"They made a little noise until our main body came up. Unluckily that old rascal Halil's men got away on their horses, most of them: after our long march our horses were too fagged to round them up. But Halil won't give any more trouble in these parts."
"And what of our big push, sir?"
"We've started, and one may say that Bagdad will be our next stop. You'll be out of it, I'm afraid, young man; you'll be under treatment for synovitis or something of the sort when we march in."
"I hope to goodness not, sir," said Burnet, pulling a long face.
The colonel smiled.
"That's the right spirit," he said. "Well, I'll take care that the Chief knows all about your doings here. If the enemy had got this position they might have worried us a good deal on our left flank. But I'm not sure that your friend the chief here doesn't owe you more than we do, for it seems to me that he stood an uncommonly good chance of being wiped out."
And later, when Rejeb and Burnet were alone together, the Arab thanked the Englishman with all the fervour of a generous nature.
"I kiss your eyes, my brother," he said in conclusion, and Burnet knew that no Eastern phrase more expressive of gratitude could have been used.