There does seem something a
little unhealthy about it."
"I'm just about fed up with Mongars," Quest declared.
"We do nothing but lie about, and they won't even let us fire a gun off."
"Personally," the Professor confessed, holding up a glass bottle in front
of him from which a yellow beetle was making frantic efforts to escape, "I
find this little patch of country unusually interesting. The specimen
which I have here--I spare you the scientific name for him--belongs to a
class of beetle which has for long eluded me."
Laura regarded the specimen with disfavour.
"So far as I am concerned," she observed, "I shouldn't have cared if he'd
eluded you a little longer. Don't you dare let him out, Professor."
"My dear young lady," the Professor assured her, "the insect is perfectly
secure. Through the cork, as you see, I have bored a couple of holes,
hoping to keep him alive until we reach Port Said, when I can prepare him
as a specimen."
"Port Said!" Lenora murmured. "It sounds like heaven."
Quest motioned them to sit a little nearer.
"Well," he said, "I fancy we are all feeling about the same except the
Professor, and even he wants to get some powder for his beetle. I had a
moment's talk with Craig this morning, and from what he says I fancy they
mean to make a move a little further in before long. It'll be all the more
difficult to escape then."
"You think we could get away?" Lenora whispered eagerly.
Quest glanced cautiously around.
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