And this cloud scene was pitiless in its moral. Two of the onlookers, Mrs. Haxton and von Kerber, knew exactly what it meant, while others read its message correctly enough. The expedition was forestalled. The long voyage and longer march, the vast expenditure, the hardships inseparable from the journey through the desert, the hopes, the fears, all the planning and contriving, went for nothing, since Alfieri the dreamer, Alfieri the fool, had apparently succeeded in locating the treasure of Sheba.
CHAPTER XIV
WHEREIN A BISHARIN CAMEL BECOMES USEFUL
To the Arab every white man is a Frank. The European invader was given that name during the First Crusade, and the Paynim does not change appreciably with the centuries. But he has learnt to differentiate between certain varieties of Frank, and Abdur Kad'r murmured maledictions on the Italian species as he watched the mirage slowly fading into nothingness. Though no one had told him the ultimate objective of the caravan, he felt that the presence of Italian soldiers at the nearest stopping-place put a bar to further progress. The mere fact that the kafila came from French territory was unanswerable. There were difficulties enough already, difficulties which must be discussed that evening, but this obstacle was wholly unforeseen.
Under his bent brows the gaunt sheikh had noted Mr. Fenshawe's manner when he turned excitedly to demand an explanation from von Kerber. The Effendi's change of tone told its own tale. Abdur Kad'r, true believer and desert-born, remarked to a brother Arab that Allah was Allah and Mahomet was undoubtedly the Prophet, but that of all the misbegotten produce of swine now cumbering the earth the Italians ranked easily first—or words to that effect. Then he relieved his feelings by objurgating the panic-stricken Somalis, whose superstitious minds interpreted the appearance of the air-borne host as a sure indication of war. He was in the midst of an eloquent outburst when his employer summoned him.
"How far is it to the next oasis?" came the dreaded query.
Abdur Kad'r, shrewd judge of men, knew that he must be explicit.
"Sixty kilometers, honored one," he replied.
"What! Nearly forty English miles?"
"It may be so, Effendi. In our reckoning it is twenty kos and one kos is three kilometers."