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"That's the point--the whole point!" the Professor exclaimed excitedly.
"He's done us! He's landed! That paper was pushed into my hand by a tall Arab, who mumbled something and hurried off across the docks. On the landing-stage, mind!"
The Captain came and put his head out of the door.
"Mr. Quest," he said, "can you spare me a moment? You can all come, if you like."
They moved up towards him. The Captain closed the door of his cabin. He pointed to a carpet-sweeper which lay against the wall.
"Look at that," he invited.
They lifted the top. Inside were several sandwiches and a small can of tea.
"What on earth is this?" Quest demanded.
The Captain, without a word, led them into his inner room. A huge lounge stood in one corner. He lifted the valance. Underneath were some crumbs.
"You see," he pointed out, "there's room there for a man to have hidden, especially if he could crawl out on deck at night. I couldn't make out why the d.i.c.kens Brown was always sweeping out my room, and I took up this thing a little time ago and looked at it. This is what I found."
"Where's Brown?" Quest asked quickly.
"I rang down for the chief steward," the Captain continued, "and ordered Brown to be sent up at once. The chief steward came himself instead. It seems Brown went off without his wages but with a huge parcel of bedding, on the first barge this morning, before any one was about."
Quest groaned as he turned away.
"Captain," he declared, "I am ashamed. He has been here all the time and we've let him slip through our fingers. Girls," he went on briskly, turning towards Laura, who had just come up, "India's off. We'll catch this barge, if there's time. Our luggage can be put on sh.o.r.e when the boat docks."
The Captain walked gloomily with them to the gangway.
"I shall miss you all," he told Laura.
She laughed in his face.
"If you ask me, I think you'll be glad to be rid of us."
"Not of you, Miss Laura," he insisted.
She made a little grimace.
"You're as bad as Mr. Harris," she declared. "We'll come for another trip with you some day."
They left him leaning disconsolately over the rails. The Professor and Quest sat side by side on one of the trunks which was piled up on the barge.
"Professor," Quest asked, "how long would it take us to get to this Mongar village you spoke about?"
"Two or three days, if we can get camels," the other replied. "I see you agree with me, then, as to Craig's probable destination?"
Quest nodded.
"What sort of fellows are they, any way?" he asked. "Will it be safe for us to push on alone?"
"With me," the Professor a.s.sured him, "you will be safe anywhere. I speak a little of their language. I have lived with them. They are far more civilized than some of the interior tribes."
"We'll find a comfortable hotel where we can leave the girls--" Quest began.
"You can cut that out," Laura interrupted. "I don't know about the kid here, but if you think I'm going to miss a camel ride across the desert, you're dead wrong, so that's all there is to it."
Quest glanced towards Lenora. She leaned over and took his arm.
"I simply couldn't be left behind," she pleaded. "I've had quite enough of that."
"The journey will not be an unpleasant one," the Professor declared amiably, "and the riding of a camel is an accomplishment easily acquired.
So far as I am aware, too, the district which we shall have to traverse is entirely peaceable."
They disembarked and were driven to the hotel, still discussing their project. Afterwards they all wandered into the bazaars, along the narrow streets, where dusky children pulled at their clothes and ran by their side, where every now and then a brown-skinned Arab, on a slow-moving camel, made his way through the throngs of veiled Turkish women, Syrians, Arabs, and Egyptians. Laura and Lenora, at any rate, attracted by the curious novelty of the scene, forgot the heat, the street smells, and the filthy clothes of the mendicants and loafers who pressed against them.
They bought strange jewellery, shawls, beads and perfumes. The Professor had disappeared for some time but rejoined them later.
"It is all arranged," he announced. "I found a dragoman whom I know. We shall have four of the best camels and a small escort ready to start to-morrow morning. Furthermore, I have news. An Englishman whose description precisely tallies with Craig's, started off, only an hour ago, in the same direction. This time, at any rate, Craig cannot escape us."
"He might go on past the Mongar camp," Quest suggested.
The Professor shook his head.
"The Mongar village," he explained, "is placed practically at a cul-de-sac so far as regards further progress southwards without making a detour. It is flanked by a strip of jungle and desert on either side, in which there are no wells for many miles. We shall find Craig with the Mongars."
They made their way back to the hotel, dined in a cool, bare room, and sauntered out again into the streets. The Professor led the way to a little building, outside which a man was volubly inviting all to enter.
"You shall see one of the sights of Port Said," he promised. "This is a real Egyptian dancing girl."
They took their seats in the front row of a dimly-lit, bare-looking room.
The stage was dark and empty. From some unseen place came the monotonous rhythm of a single instrument. They waited for some time in vain. At last one or two lights in front were lit, the music grew more insistent. A girl who seemed to be dressed in little more than a winding veil, glided on to the stage, swaying and moving slowly to the rhythm of the monotonous music. She danced a measure which none of them except the Professor had ever seen before, coming now and then so close that they could almost feel her hot breath, and Lenora felt somehow vaguely disturbed by the glitter of her eyes. An odd perfume was shaken into the air around them from her one flowing garment, through which her limbs continually flashed. Lenora looked away.
"I don't like it," she said to Quest simply.
Suddenly Laura leaned forward.
"Look at the Professor," she whispered.
They all turned their heads. A queer change seemed to have come into the Professor's face. His teeth were gleaming between his parted lips, his head was a little thrust forward, his eyes were filled with a strange, hard light. He was a transformed being, unrecognisable, perturbing. Even while they watched, the girl floated close to where he sat and leaned towards him with a queer, mocking smile. His hand suddenly descended upon her foot. She laughed still more. There was a little exclamation from Lenora. The Professor's whole frame quivered, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the anklet from the girl's ankle and bent over it. She leaned towards him, a torrent of words streaming from her lips. The Professor answered her in her own language. She listened to him in amazement. The anger pa.s.sed. She held out both her hands. The Professor still argued. She shook her head. Finally he placed some gold in her palms. She patted him on the cheek, laughed into his eyes, pointed behind and resumed her dancing. The anklet remained in the Professor's hand.
"Say, we'll get out of this," Quest said. "The girls have had enough."
The Professor made no objection. He led the way, holding the anklet all the time close to his eyes, and turning it round. They none of them spoke to him, yet they were all conscious of an immense sense of relief when, after they had pa.s.sed into the street, he commenced to talk in his natural voice.
"Congratulate me," he said. "I have been a collector of a.s.syrian gold ornaments all my life. This is the one anklet I needed to complete my collection. It has the double mark of the Pharaohs. I recognised it at once. There are a thousand like it, you would think, in the bazaars there.
In reality there may be, perhaps, a dozen more in all Egypt which are genuine."
They all looked at one another. Their relief had grown too poignant for words.
"Early start to-morrow," Quest reminded them.