“But you don’t think the Count would fight him?”
“You bet your life he would, and paint the town red with his vital fluid, too, if he was in his proper form. But he’s sick and strung-up both, and I don’t care for the risk.”
“Isn’t it wonderful how well he sits his horse?” asked Mansfield, looking at Cyril as he rode in front.
“That’s what I tell you, he’s strung-up for this job. He has something big in his eye that I don’t see. I must figure it out.”
Mr Hicks relapsed into silence, pondering busily the problem he had set himself, and Mansfield did not disturb his meditations as they rode through the fruit-gardens and walnut-groves surrounding the city, and then across the bare fields, populous just now with camels belonging to friendly Arabs. The tribesmen were encamped in the neighbourhood of the town for the double purpose of obtaining their annual store of corn from the farmers, and allowing their camels the luxury of grazing upon the stubble, which the peasants did not resent, since it helped to clear the fields for the ploughing which would take place when the winter rains were over. A little farther, and the signs of cultivation became more rare, one or two villages were passed, each with its belt of fertile soil, and then the desert itself came into view—not a wide flat expanse of sand, but a region of stony hills and rugged valleys, with here and there a patch of coarse grass or starved-looking bushes. The blind man, feeling the way with the staff he carried, seemed never at a loss to discover the track, which was hardly distinguishable even to the eye, and at length, on rounding the shoulder of a hillock in no way more remarkable than the rest, he turned to Cyril and remarked—
“This is the place where the sheikh will meet my lord.”
“Then he is late,” said Cyril, looking round.
“Nay, my lord, the Beni Ismail will not show themselves until they are satisfied that the khawajas are their friends.” He raised his voice in a shrill cry, and presently a head appeared, peeping suspiciously round a rock at some distance. Informed of this, Yeshua repeated his call, and presently three Arabs made their appearance from different directions, each man leading his horse. The blind man went forward to meet them, and an animated colloquy ensued, out of earshot of the travellers.
“I don’t quite like the look of this,” said Cyril. “Is our blind friend stipulating for his share of the spoils?”
“Oh no, Count,” said Mansfield; “he’s trying to get them to swear not to hurt us. He told me he would. The poor beggar has cottoned to me rather,” he added shamefacedly. “Yesterday I went to see the mission with which he is connected, and the ladies told him, and he was awfully pleased.”