Mohammed looked aside.
“I took it to him, Effendi. It was the token by which he knew her need.”
“The pedlar?”
“The pedlar, Effendi.”
“You knew where to find him, then?”
“I knew where to find him, but I feared to tell you; feared that you might ridicule him.”
He ceased. He was become oddly reticent. Graham shrugged his shoulders, helplessly.
“I only hope the authorities will succeed in capturing the Bishareen brigands,” he said grimly.
“The authorities will never capture them,” replied the dragoman with conviction. “For five years they have lived by plunder, and laughed at the Government. But before another moon is risen”—he was warming to his usual eloquence now—“no Masr-Bishareen will remain in the land, they will be exterminated—purged from the desert!”
“Indeed,” said Graham; “by whom?”