The silence continued. The invaders had dispersed. Sleep was impossible, and they passed the time in conversation until a streak of light, flickering through the opening, showed that morning had come.
Food and drink were brought in. The prisoners ate sparingly. The shadow of a great calamity was overhanging.
"I am just as sure," said Melton, "that something will shortly happen, as I am that you and I are in Rao Khan's slave prison at Harar."
"Listen," answered Guy.
Footsteps approached. The door creaked and opened, and a man entered. With a cry of wonder Guy and Melton sprang to their feet. The new-comer was bronzed and burnt, he had light hair, a mustache and a soft blond beard, but he wore trousers and a tunic of white linen.
The surprise was mutual. The stranger scanned them closely from head to foot.
"Who are you?" cried Guy hoarsely. "Can it be possible that you are an Englishman—an Englishman in Harar?"
The man paused a moment, and then said quietly: "I am a Greek. My name is Canaris Mataplan. At present I am an interpreter to Rao Khan, the Emir."
"But your English?" cried Melton. "It is perfect."
"I was a cafe-keeper at Cairo for seven years," replied the Greek. "I learned English there."