"Wallahy! the German!" he exclaimed.
Almost at the same moment the two figures rose. Clearly they had recognised Frank. And then Wonckhaus and his Kurd companion began with haste to roll rocks from the pile down the slope, obviously with the intention of blocking the track.
"Come, Ali!" cried Frank. "Joseph, look after the rest. Bring them along."
Urging their mounts to their best speed, the two men dashed along the track, and reined up only when they were in danger of being crushed by the rocks crashing down from above. The narrow path was already almost impassable. Frank sprang from his horse and began to clamber up the face of the cliff, followed, after a moment's hesitation, by Ali.
Twenty feet above them Wonckhaus stood irresolute. He held a jagged boulder, and seemed to be in two minds about hurling it straight upon the climbing Englishman. Some prudential instinct--it may have been a scruple--gave him pause, and his Kurd companion, taking the cue from him, held a large stone similarly poised.
"Wait a moment," said Frank coolly. "I won't keep you long."
Wonckhaus, somewhat taken aback by Frank's calmness, and the absence of hostility from his tone, watched him in silence as he climbed to his side.
"Another stone or two would have completely blocked the track," Frank went on.
Shooting a curious glance at him, Wonckhaus replied:
"That was my intention, Mr. Forester."