Nell's eyebrows rose and her countenance reflected embarrassment, after which she said:
"He will know that from my looks."
"Perhaps. But he is not to blame, for he could not know what was happening. Remember also that afterwards he came to our rescue."
This recollection placated Nell's anger a little. She did not, however, want to grant pardon to the culprit at once.
"That is very well," she said, "but a real gentleman ought not to bark on greeting."
Stas burst out laughing again.
"Neither does a real gentleman bark on leave-taking unless he is a dog, and Saba is one."
But after a while sorrow dimmed the boy's eyes; he sighed once, then again; after which he rose from the stone on which they sat and said:
"The worst is that I could not free you."
And Nell raised herself on her little toes and threw her arms around his neck. She wanted to cheer him; she wanted, with her little nose close to his face, to whisper her gratitude, but, as she could not find appropriate words, she only squeezed his neck yet more tightly and kissed his ear. In the meantime Saba, always late—not so much because he was unable to keep pace with the camels, but because he hunted for jackals on the way, or drove away vultures perched on the crests of rocks with his barking—came rushing up, making his customary noise. The children at the sight of him forgot about everything, and notwithstanding their hard situation began their usual caresses and play until they were interrupted by the Arabs. Chamis gave the dog food and water, after which all mounted the camels and started with the greatest speed southward.