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." "Well, I'm glad I do. You think these savages will think so too, and that I am the real thing?" "Oh, yes. Look at the Hakim." "Sha'n't! I've been looking till I feel ashamed of him." "Ashamed?" said the Sheikh. "Why?" "Dressed up like that! Him a first-class London surgeon and M.D., with Palladium Club and Wimpole Street on his card. I tell you I'm ashamed of him, and I'm ashamed of myself, and I ain't sure now that it isn't all a dream." "I do not understand," said the Sheikh coldly. "You can't, Mr Abrahams. You're a very nice, civil old gentleman, and I like you, and I'm much obliged for lots of good turns you've done me; but you see you've never been to London, and don't know what's what." "No," said the Sheikh; "I have never been to London yet, but I have often thought of going with some family, for I have been asked twice. But if I do come I shall try to see you, Mr Samuel."