But the Arab, too, had friends in the crowd, and they, pressing forward in turn, made it seem as though a bloody conflict were inevitable.
Just as the issue was trembling in the balance, a shout arose from the crowded street.
"The white man! Make room for the white man!" and through the parted ranks Guy saw advancing a bronzed Englishman in white flannels and helmet.
The stranger pushed right in through the sullen group of negroes until he reached the open space before the tent, and stood face to face with Guy.
Their eyes met in one amazed glance that startled the wondering spectators, and then from Guy's lips burst a glad, hoarse cry:
"Melton Forbes, or I am dreaming!"
"Chutney, by Jove! My dear fellow, can it be possible?"
All else forgotten in their deep joy of meeting, the two bronzed Englishmen fell into each other's arms, and the Arabs and negroes, dimly comprehending what it all meant, shouted in sympathy and lowered their arms.