Ḥussein took from his lip the narghileh tube which was already between them and explained the mystery.
“It was the automobile of Misterr X. He journeyed from Aleppo to Baghdâd in four days, and the last day Muḥammad el ’Abdullah went with him, for the road was through the country of the Deleim.”
“I saw them start,” said Fattûḥ the Aleppine. “But the automobile lies now broken in Baghdâd.”
Muḥammad paid no heed to this slur upon the reputation of the carriage.
“White!” said he. “It was all painted white. Wallah, the Arabs wondered as it fled past. And I was seated within upon the cushions.”
That night Fattûḥ and I held a short council. We had won successfully through a hazardous day, but it seemed less than wisdom to go farther without an Arab guide, and I proposed to add Muḥammad el ’Abdullah to our party, if he would come.
“He will come,” said Fattûḥ. “This sheikh is a man. And your Excellency is of the English.”
Muḥammad neither demurred nor bargained. I think he would have accompanied me even if I had not belonged to the race that owned the carriage. Our adventure pleased him; he was one of those whose blood runs quicker than that of his fellows, whose fancy burns brighter, “whom thou, Melpomene, at birth” ... upon many an unknown cradle the Muse sheds her clear beam.
“But if we were to meet the raiders of the Benî Ḥassan?” I asked, mindful of the unsuccessful parleyings at Hît.
“God is great!” replied Muḥammad, “and we are four men with rifles.”