It was like pouring life into
their veins. They all, at the Professor's instigation, drank sparingly.
Quest, with a great sigh of relief, lit a cigar.
"Some adventure, this!" he declared.
The Professor, who had been talking to the men in their own language,
turned back towards the two girls.
"It is a caravan," he explained, "of peaceful merchants on their way to
Jaffa. They are halting for us, and we shall be able, without a doubt, to
arrange for water and food and a camel or two horses. The man here asks if
the ladies will take the horses and ride?"
They started off gaily to where the caravan had come to a standstill. They
had scarcely traversed a hundred yards, however, before the Arab who was
leading Lenora's horse came to a sudden standstill. He pointed with his
arm and commenced to talk in an excited fashion to his two companions.
From across the desert, facing them, came a little company of horsemen,
galloping fast and with the sunlight flashing upon their rifles.
"The Mongars!" the Arab cried, pointing wildly. "They attack the caravan!"
The three Arabs talked together for a moment in an excited fashion. Then,
without excuse or warning, they swung the two women to the ground, leapt
on their horses, and, turning northwards, galloped away. Already the crack
of the rifles and little puffs of white smoke showed them where the
Mongars, advancing cautiously, were commencing their attack. The Professor
looked on anxiously.
"I am not at all sure," he said in an undertone to Quest, "about our
position with the Mongars.
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