"This Arab—" she said, "was he a tall, good-looking man with a striped hood to his burnous, his outer cloak, you know?"
"That's him," agreed Tagg. "More like a fellow you'd see at Tangier than in these parts. You know the sort of chap I mean, cap'n?"
"I do," said Stump. "Reg'lar stage Arabs, they are. Sort of
Frenchified, with clipped whiskers."
"But please tell me what happened," cried Irene breathlessly.
"Well, miss, there ain't much to tell. They had a serious confab for five minutes, an' then she tells me she's goin' ashore. 'Wot time will ye be back, m'am, an' I'll send a boat,' sez I. 'I dunno,' sez she, 'I may be late, so I shall return in a native boat.' She axed your maid, miss, to bring a wrap from her cabin, and she was gone without another word."
"Then that settles it," interposed Mr. Fenshawe dryly. "Mrs. Haxton is a lady who knows her own mind. She is fully qualified to take care of herself. Off you go to bed, Irene. Sufficient for the day is the excitement thereof. And, according to present Indications, we shall be kept busy to-morrow. Goodnight, Mr. Royson. I shall be better able to thank you in the morning."
Irene, too, held out a hand to Dick.
"I'm making up all sorts of nice compliments to offer you," she said, pleasantly. "You need, not protest. I was gagged for the best part of an hour when I very specially wanted to talk, so I have a whole lot of things to say after breakfast."
Dick read the meaning of the glance she flashed at him. Oddly enough, it expressed his own thought. They must endeavor to find out how Mrs. Haxton came to be such a close acquaintance of El Jaridiah's. Not only had he risked his life when he fancied she was in danger, but she, on her part, was willing to return with him to Massowah under cover of the night—to Massowah, whence she had fled in terror not many hours earlier.