"Of being seen, sir; I durs’n’t show myself. Look at those boats there, sir," he said, pointing through the cabin door at some native boats which were passing—such boats were passing at all hours of the day. "He might be there." "Who? Not that decrepit old chap we saw this afternoon?" "No," he said, clutching the side of his bunk and looking half-mad; "Jassim! Jassim himself!" "Jassim? You haven’t seen him, have you?" I asked, startled. "Yes," he groaned; "and he saw me! We came face to face in that crowd outside the mosque. I knew him directly, and he knew me—I’ll swear it." "You’re mistaken, man; it couldn’t have been he." Mr. Scarlett shook his head. "No, no! I recollect his face as though it was yesterday—he has a scar on his upper lip, too. No, no! I couldn’t make a mistake! He shot out an arm, felt above my elbow, then turned away without a word." "Touched the bracelet; made sure it was still there, did he?" Phew! I whistled, and shivered in spite of the terrible heat inside the cabin, for there was something so uncanny about the whole business. If Jassim had recognized him there might be danger—might be very great danger, unless Mr. Scarlett would let me or someone take the cursed thing off his arm. We could not hope that we had escaped by hurrying away. Two Englishmen couldn’t walk through the town of Muscat without everyone knowing from where they came. There was not a mail steamer in the harbour, and even if there had been, and we might have been taken for passengers, the native boatmen who had brought us off from shore would give us away. It was very awkward. "Kid-ney get cold, master," Percy pleaded, with a disappointed look in his face; so I went and tried to eat, sending Mr. Scarlett’s share into the cabin. I ate but little; he ate less. His nervousness and fright were infectious. I began to feel as nervous as a cat. Fearing lest Jassim—if indeed it was Jassim—should try to force his way on board, I gave very stringent orders that no native boat should be allowed to come alongside and no one allowed on board without my permission. I also stopped the leave of the native crew, lest they should be tampered with. Webster, Moore, and Ellis, who acted as quartermasters, were provided with revolvers, and ordered to use them if anyone did attempt to come aboard during the night. I don’t know what they thought had suddenly made this precaution necessary. Certainly the whole crew knew that something had happened, and every one of us was in a horrid state of nerves. When the sun had set, Mr. Scarlett ventured out for a breath of the hot air. I had a terrible night with him. I had never seen anyone so unmanned as he was. Eventually he did go to sleep, but woke screaming in a hideous nightmare, and there was no more sleep after that—for either of us.