What other object the visitors had in coming to the camp we could not learn. I had my suspicions, however, when I heard the young sheikh—whose name was Siddy Ischem—invite our master to accompany him.
“No! Allah be praised, I have never been accustomed to towns and their ways; and within stone and brick walls I hope not to enter, unless I go at the head of my people, sword in hand, to plunder and destroy the cursed infidels,—when, with the blessing of Mohammed, I will get out again as soon as the work is accomplished.”
“Each man to his taste,” answered Siddy Ischem. “A city affords its pleasures as well as the Desert.”
The greater part of the next morning was spent at the camp. We were then ordered to be ready to march. Siddy Boo Cassem, owner of the famous Bu Saef camel, with several of his tribe, accompanied our party. No camels or horses were allowed us, however, and having to march on foot, a dreary, fatiguing journey we found it. Some of our masters rode on either side of us, to prevent the possibility of our running away; though where we could have run to it was hard to say. We travelled on all day, the night overtaking us while we were still on the road. In about an hour, however, the moon rose, and enabled us better to see the path.
Not long afterwards, we caught sight of a lofty tower rising out of the plain, and the dark frowning walls of a fortified town; and from the remarks of the Arabs we learned that this was our destination. We soon came under the walls, when the leaders of our band began to defile through a narrow archway. My heart sank within me, for I felt that the difficulties of escape would be increased. I expressed my feelings to Boxall; but he rejoined,—“Such walls as these can be easily scaled; and if we once get on the outside, we are not so likely to be observed and followed as from an open camp. Cheer up, Charlie; ‘it’s a long lane that has no turning.’”
Even he, however, felt somewhat dispirited when we were conducted to a long, low building, into which we were thrust, and the door closed upon us. All we could discover in the gloom was that the walls were of bare stone, with rings and chains secured to them, and that the floor was excessively dirty. We were so tired from our journey that we longed to lie down; but we were unable to do so until we could scrape from the floor the offal which thickly covered it.
“I hope they are not going to send us supperless to bed,” exclaimed Ben. “Can’t you sing out that we are in want of food, Mr Blore, and that we shall be
much obliged to them if they will send us something to drink at the same time?”
There was a single, strongly-barred window in the room, looking into the street. I went to it, and cried at the top of my voice, “Oh, pity! oh, pity! oh, pity! Will any one have compassion on us, and bring us some food to supply our wants?”