It can only be accounted for by the fact that like most keen men John Craig is in the habit of relying upon his judgment in such matters, and there is something about the face of Mustapha that wins his confidence.
Then, again, there are the events of the preceding night. The courier stood by him like a Spartan hero; yes, he can be trusted.
Thus John meets the guide warmly, and a new hope immediately springs into existence, a hope born of confidence.
"What does all this mean, Mustapha Cadi? See, I have brought the agent of the stage line, but when we arrive at the scene of the wreck we find it deserted. What does it mean? Have my friends fallen into the hands of robbers?"
Mustapha immediately nods his head.
"It is so, monsieur."
"Who are they?"
"Arabs, Kabyles, Moors—all who hate the Franks, yet love money more. They are under a desperate leader, the Tiger of the Desert."
At this Monsieur Constans utters a low cry.
"He means Bab Azoun, ze terrible gate-way of death."