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So delighted and interested was the audience that they paid little heed to a mounted camel-man who trotted swiftly between the palm trunks. All might have been well had not Fardet, carried away by his own success, tried to repeat his trick once more, with the result that the date fell out of his palm, and the deception stood revealed.
Monsieur Fardet stamped about with a guttural rolling of r's, glancing angrily at his companions as if they had in some way betrayed him; while the fat clergyman stood with his umbrella up, staring stolidly with big, frightened eyes at the camel-men. Cecil Brown curled his small, prim moustache, and looked white, but contemptuous.
Last of all came Headingly, slight and tall, with the student stoop about his shoulders, and Fardet, the good-natured, fussy, argumentative Parisian. "You see we have an escort to-day," he whispered to his companion. "So I observed." "Pah!" cried the Frenchman, throwing out his arms in derision; "as well have an escort from Paris to Versailles. This is all part of the play, Monsieur Headingly.
"If it were not for your grey hairs " he said. "Damn your impudence!" cried the Colonel. "If we have to die, let us die like gentlemen, and not like so many corner-boys," said Belmont with dignity. "I only said I was glad to see that Monsieur Fardet has learned something from his adventures," the Colonel sneered. "Shut up, Cochrane! What do you want to aggravate him for?" cried the Irishman.
Their departure was a relief to the three men who were left. "I am glad they are gone," said Stephens, from his heart. "Yes, yes, it is better," cried Fardet. "How long are we to wait?" "Not very long now," said Belmont grimly, as the Arabs closed in around them. The Colonel and the three women gave one backward glance when they came to the edge of the oasis.
Then he gave an order, and in an instant the four men were seized. A couple of deft turns with a camel-halter secured each of their wrists. Fardet screamed out, for the rope had bitten into his open wound. The others took it with the dignity of despair. "You have ruined everything. I believe you have ruined me also!" cried Mansoor, wringing his hands.
"Think of my wasting three cartridges in that fashion! If I had him at Bisley I'd shoot the turban off him, but this vibrating glare means refraction. What's the matter with the Frenchman?" Monsieur Fardet was stamping about the plateau with the gestures of a man who has been stung by a wasp. "S'cre nom! S'cre nom!" he shouted, showing his strong white teeth under his black waxed moustache.
The two Emirs stood gravely watching them. "For my part," said Cochrane, "I had as soon die now as be a slave in Khartoum." "What do you say, Norah?" asked Belmont. "If we die together, John, I don't think I shall be afraid." "It is absurd that I should die for that in which I have never had belief," said Fardet.
His fingers were twitching with nervousness and plucking incessantly at the front of his covercoat. "Why does he wish to know?" asked the Colonel. "I do not know." "But it is evident," cried Monsieur Fardet. "He wishes to know which is the best worth keeping for his ransom." "I think we should see this thing through together," said the Colonel.
The camels were not recovered yet from their long march, and the pursuers, if they were indeed close behind, were almost certain to overtake them. "For God's sake, Fardet, try and keep him in play," said he. "I believe we have a chance if we can only keep the ball rolling for another hour or so." But a Frenchman's wounded dignity is not so easily appeased.
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