CHAPTER XXIII.
FOUND—IN THE HOUSE OF THE MOOR.
John hears at last.
A native servant brings him a note, and it can be set down as positive that the young Chicagoan eagerly breaks the seal.
It is from Ben Taleb. He writes a fair English hand, for he is a man of much education.
Come again this night at eleven. Tell Mustapha to be at the wall where you departed from my house, at that hour, and to rap upon the large stone with the handle of his knife, giving the signal of Mahomet's tomb.
Ben Taleb, of Morocco.
So John's heart thrills with expectation. This looks friendly; he may be near the end of his journey. It is still dark and uncertain ahead, for even when he has found his mother, a reconciliation between these separated parents seems impossible. The past has too much of bitterness in it to be easily put aside.
His first thought is of Mustapha, and he casts around for the Arab, whom he last saw close by the door of the hotel.
The dusky courier is near by, engaged in a little game with several companion guides, for the Arab as a rule loves gaming, and will risk everything but his horse.