ont, while like a gigantic, ungainly serpent the
returning force glided on over the sandy plain, till the musical (?)
head disappeared between two long lines of horsemen who formed an avenue
which kept back the crowd, and were ready when the last camel and the
rear guard had passed through to fall in behind and follow their more
fortunate plunder-laden comrades into the city.

The Hakim's countenance was dignified and impressive enough to
thoroughly keep up his character, and he listened in silence to the
remarks made in a low tone from time to time by the professor, who was
eagerly noting the crowd in front that they were approaching; but Frank
sat his camel as if turned into stone, his eyes fixed upon the
wilderness of mud-brick buildings, while he wondered which contained the
prisoner they had come to save.

The Hakim's air of dignity was of course assumed; but one of his
followers, in spite of his long intercourse with Europeans, took to his
position proudly and as if to the manner born, and this was the Sheikh,
whose handsome old grey-bearded face seemed to shine with a moon-like
radiance reflected from the principal, the Hakim being his sun.

So manifest was this that after glancing at him several times in a
half-amused, half-contemptuous way, Sam suddenly burst out with--

"You seem to like it, Mr Abrahams!"

The Sheikh started, and looked at the man riding the camel at his side
in surprise.

"Yes," he said; "it is old-fashioned, and not new and civilised like
things in Cairo, but it is grand, and I am proud of the Hakim and my
camels; are not you?"

"Not a bit of it!" said Sam contemptuously. "It's all very well for
you, Mr Abrahams, being a native and used to it. But me, an
Englishman--a Londoner--proud of it! Why, I wonder at you."

"But," said the old man, "look at the camel you are riding; how soft,
how sleek, how graceful, and how easily it moves! Ah! I see you are
getting proud."

"Me? Proud? What, of being here?" cried Sam.

"Yes; you have learned to ride the camel, and you sit it easily and
well. You ride as if, as you Englishmen say, you were born upon it."

"Oh, do we? Well, I won't say I can't ride it now, nor I won't say it
don't come easy. You see, Mr Abrahams, there ain't many things an
Englishman can't do if he gives his mind to it."

"You look well, Mr Samuel," said the old man, smiling.

"Now, no chaff!" said Sam suspiciously. "No gammon! You mean it?"

"Of course."