CHAPTER IX—A BOLT FROM THE BLUE
“Thank Heaven you are back!” said Oliphant when Tom appeared over the brow of the hill. “I don’t think I ever spent a more miserable night.”
“Anything happened?”
“No. It wouldn’t have been so bad if anything had. If I’d had something to do—somebody to fight, or something!”
“Well, you could have gone to sleep.”
“So I did, and woke in a fright. I dreamt that wretched Jew fellow was coming at me with outstretched hands, and his fingernails were like some horrid bird’s claws, and he grew bigger and bigger as he came until he seemed as huge as a mountain. But what luck did you have?”
“None, or next to none. The kasbah’s as strong as Newgate. And the worst of it is, we were spotted and followed, had to truss up one fellow; another alarmed the village. We escaped just by the skin of our teeth.”
He related in detail the incidents of the night.
“It looks as if we’ll have to back out after all,” said Oliphant gloomily when the story was finished.
“I’ll be hanged if we will. I’ve been thinking it over, and talking it over with Abdul, on the way back. The only chance, it seems to me, is to face all the risks and make a dash for it.”