They were given no time for further conversation, for one was hustled this way and one that.
As Barclay sat brooding on the fate that had overtaken his party and trying to find a reason for it, someone entered the tent.
In the newcomer he recognised the leader of the force that had waylaid and captured him and his party.
"So, George Barclay, we meet for a second time," a deep voice said savagely in French.
Barclay scanned the big man in the white burnoose who stood looking at him with hatred in his dark, fiery eyes.
To his knowledge he had never seen him before.
"Where did we first meet?" he asked quietly.
"Sixteen years ago, when you murdered my father, the Sultan Casim Ammeh."
Sir George started violently and scanned the man anew. He had a reason now for the untoward happenings.
"Do you remember all I promised for you and yours that day you refused to listen to my pleadings?" the savage voice asked.