The Greek's white burnous fluttered on ahead, turning angle after angle, diving into dark alleys and shooting across open spaces. At last he stopped and, too exhausted to speak, waved his hand in triumph at the frowning wall of the town that towered directly over their heads for twenty feet.
Close by the wall was a circular stone tower, partly in ruins, and into this Canaris dived eagerly. It was an anxious moment to the two who waited on the outside, but at last the Greek reappeared in triumph with his hands full. The Jewish merchant had kept his promise.
He paused a second or two to listen to the outcry in the town.
"They are coming nearer," he said. "Keep cool and don't get excited. They will search every stall in the market before a man comes near us, and besides this is the last place they would look. They will never suspect us of any intention to scale the wall. Still we must lose no time," he added. "Now here is a box of shells apiece; put them in your pockets, buckle these sabers around your waists, take the rifles I bought. They are better, so you may throw the others away."
"Forbes can't carry one," said Guy. "What shall we do with it?"
"Leave it behind," replied Canaris. "We have burden enough. I had the Jew put up the stuff in three oilcloth bags. We must divide it into two loads."
He turned the contents of all on the ground.
"Yes, everything is here," he said. "Crackers, dates, figs, two lamps, a box of candles, matches, and two flasks of palm oil. Now, then, for the final move."
He divided the stuff into two bags, and then, going back into the guard tower, came out with a bunch of long ropes.
"Hurry up," said Guy. "Do you observe how close the sounds are coming?"