He'd be too proud to parade his anxiety under our noses, but would
lurk in the distance, out of our sight, he probably flatters himself, to
welcome his son, and take him back to Oued Tolga. Not unnatural--and in
spite of all, I can't help being a little sorry for the man. We've
humiliated and got the better of him, because we happen to have his
secret. It's a bit like draining a chap's blood, and then challenging
him to fight. He's got all he can expect now, in receiving the child
back and if I can judge him by myself, he'll be so happy, that he'll be
only too thankful to see our backs for the last time."
"He might feel safer to stick a knife in them."
"Oh, lord, I'm too hot to worry!" laughed Nevill. "Let's bid the boy
Godspeed, or the Mussulman equivalent, which is a lot more elaborate,
and then turn our thoughts to a bath of sorts and a dinner of sorts. I
think Providence has been good to us so far, and we can afford to trust
It. I'm sure Miss Ray would agree with me there." And Nevill glanced
with kind blue eyes toward the shut door behind which Victoria had
disappeared with her sister.
When at last the little Mohammed had been despatched with great ceremony
of politeness, as well as a present of Stephen's gold watch, the two
Englishmen watched him fade out of sight with his cavalcade of men from
the Zaouia, and saw that nothing moved in the southern distance.
"All's right with the world, and now for a wash and food!" cried Nevill,
turning in with a sigh of relief at the gate of the bordj.
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