Briefly Osborne explained the situation, adding that he would be greatly obliged if the prisoners could be handed over to the custody of the military until the Lieutenant could report the facts to the Senior Naval Officer.
"Certainly," was the reply. "I'll furnish a subaltern's guard. Mr. Fordyce!"
"Sir!" replied an alert, bronzed Second-lieutenant.
"These two men are to be marched back under escort. See that they are placed in the guard-room. You will be responsible for their safe custody."
At an order from a tall, smiling-faced, native sergeant, who appeared to take a delight in having a rascally Greek in his charge, Georgeos Hymettus descended from his lofty perch. Surrounded by men with fixed bayonets he was hurried off to a distance of fifty yards, while other soldiers took up their position around the Arab prisoner.
The latter, now that his companion in misfortune was out of ear-shot, addressed a few rapid sentences in Arabic to the British Major. Then, to Osborne's and Webb's astonishment, the officer drew them aside, at the same time halting the escort and signing to the Arab to follow.
"The courage of a worm, the sagacity of a bat, the energy of a snail, by Jove! Gentlemen, I begin to feel particularly cheap."
Osborne stood stock-still, dumb with amazement. Webb, hardly able to realize the situation, looked at the speaker with ill-disguised astonishment. The utter surprise of being reminded of his own words, by a man who appeared to be a genuine Bedouin, literally took the wind out of his sails.
"Thanks for a very pleasant afternoon!" continued the disguised prisoner. "It is indeed most unfortunate that your misplaced zeal prompted you to raid friend Georgeos's secret wireless station. I've been on his track for weeks. I may as well introduce myself as Major Ferriter, of the Intelligence Staff. If necessary, my friend Major Scott here will guarantee my bona fides."
"For weeks?" echoed Osborne. "Then why didn't you nab the spy before? He must have been doing tons of mischief."