“Certainly I did,” replied the captain. “You didn’t ask for any more information, or I should have told you that we went to Berbera first. The great annual fair has just opened at Berbera, and I have on board large stores of merchandise and trading properties. On other occasions I go to Zaila first, but during the progress of the fair I always go direct to Berbera and unload. I supposed that fact to be generally understood,” and, turning on his heel, the captain walked off to give some orders to his men.
Guy was half inclined to be angry at first, but on reflection he concluded he was just as well satisfied. Besides, it would give him a chance to see that wonderful African fair, which he now remembered to have heard about on different occasions.
But one other person was visible on the deck, a short, chunky man, with a dark complexion, and crafty, forbidding features.
A Portuguese or a Spaniard Guy put him down for at once, and he instantly conceived a deep mistrust of him. The fellow, however, was inclined to be sociable.
“Ah, an Englishman,” he said, coming up to Guy and holding out his hand, an action which Guy professed not to see.
“You are going to Berbera, perhaps,” he went on, nowise discomfited by the rebuff.
“No,” said Guy shortly. “To Zaila.”
“Ah, yes, Zaila! You have friends there, perhaps? I, too, am acquainted. I know very well Sir Arthur Ashby, the governor at Zaila.”
His keen eyes scanned Guy’s face closely, and noted the faint gleam of surprise at this information.
But Guy was too clever to be thrown off his guard.