Again he repaired to the French authorities to report his suspicions, but they, having no corroborative evidence, would take no action.
"All right," said he again, "wait and see!"
Whether the Arabs were tired of waiting for Adan, or had no actual designs upon him at all, and had finished their business, they, at any rate, put to sea at last. Only a few miles outside the harbour they attacked a French dhow, killing five of the crew of eight. Of the remaining three two were too old to be of any use, so they were run ashore on a small island, with their dhow, and abandoned. The two old men got safely back to Djibouti, where they reported what had happened. The third was carried off to Arabia as a slave.
Then the French Hakim sent for Adan and asked, "What's this story you have been telling concerning these piratical Arabs?"
Said Adan, "As you would not believe me when you had a chance to lay these fellows by the heels, what's the use of troubling me now that they have gone?"
The French Hakim smiled—Adan claims that smile was a graceful admission of the mistake he had made—and pointed out how hard it was for him to act on a vague opinion formed by Adan that some, seemingly harmless, Arabs were going to kill him.
Adan replied that if men in his trade did not take strict heed of what their wits tell them may happen, that thing is sure to happen, as bad men do not write letters to the people they wish to kill, but just kill them, and when they least expect it. He concluded this piece of wisdom by asking the French Hakim, "What about the fight at Wakderia?"
"Yes, what about it?" said the Hakim, "it took place in British waters, and, in any case, we could take no action on your evidence. Why, you admit yourself, you killed two Arabs."
"If that is the case," said Adan, "I am going back to Zeila, and if ever those Arabs come there I'll have them punished. Should I stay here you'll let them come and kill me before you raise a hand."