“True, master; but it is with us a saying, ‘Every delay is good.’”
“Well, come and have something to eat. You’re pretty tired and hungry, no doubt. Then you can tell us what you have done.”
But Abdul declined the food offered him, and producing a wallet from beneath his djellab, displayed a heap of dates. He related that he had made his way safely into the village, but as he went through the street towards the house of Hamet Ali—a friend on whose discretion he could rely—he fancied from the manner of an old water-carrier that the man had recognized him. He contrived to slip away among a company of muleteers that happened to be passing, and reached his friend’s house unmolested; but shortly afterwards he learnt from this friend that the water-carrier had mentioned his suspicions, and that inquiries were being diligently made for him through the village. Every exit was watched; and his friend was in some anxiety lest an emissary of the sheikh should come and search the house. Hamet, however, was an old enemy of the sheikh, though, with true oriental dissimulation, he had hitherto managed to hide the fact. He agreed to give Abdul shelter so long as it was safe to do so, but impressed upon him that he must not venture to show himself out of doors.
He then inquired what had brought Abdul to the village, and the boy thought it advisable to confide in him, taking care to heighten the mystery of the wonderful ship that sailed through the air, and to promise, on the Englishmen’s behalf, liberal bakshish to Hamet if he lent all possible assistance to the enterprise. He wished his friend to send a messenger to Tom, but this Hamet refused to do, for the results to himself, if the messenger were followed and caught, might be disastrous.
On the morning of the same day, when Hamet returned from his usual visit to the sôk, he reported that a camel-driver had arrived, bearing a message from a Jew of Rabat, Salathiel ben Ezra by name, who proposed to come in person to see the sheikh, and had sent a swift rider in advance to request a safe-conduct. The Jews are tolerated, scorned, made to do menial work, in the ports; in remote districts of Morocco they carry their lives in their hands. But the message conveyed to the sheikh had been such that Salathiel’s request was granted, and a dozen men had been sent on horseback towards the coast as an escort. Hearing this, Abdul decided that at all costs he must return to his employer. Under cover of the night he had contrived to slip away from the village, and had come back by a circuitous route so as to make sure of not being intercepted.
“But what of the prisoner?” asked Tom. “Did you learn anything of him?”
“Yes, master. He is in the sheikh’s kasbah.”
“What is kasbah?”
“Strong place, master; thick walls; a very bad prison.”
“We are on the right track, Oliphant,” said Tom.