He passed the chief twice, and he could see that the Baggara looked as proud as a boy of his splendidly caparisoned horse. He saw, too, in one quick glance that his brother had gone back towards the shed-like place from which he had brought the mount, while the Emir's followers had gathered to one side of the court, everyone taking the most profound interest in the equestrian display, while the other side of the court, opposite to the house near which the chief stood, was vacant. Now was the time if the _ruse_ was to be attempted, and Frank drew a deep breath as he advanced towards the Emir, while as he passed him he made a quick, hurried gesture to the assembled followers, waving his hand to them to give way and leave him room to have a gallop round the court, at the same moment pressing the barb's sides so that it broke into a canter at once, careering along with the scarlet plume sweeping out, and once again there was a loud, eager cry. Frank felt that he was riding well, and the horse sped along till the last of the mounted men were passed, and directly after he was riding along the vacant side of the court, on and on till he was about fifty yards from where his brother stood, and in full view of the Emir and his men, when in obedience to a light check the horse stopped short, falling back almost upon its haunches, and as all gazed wonderingly across at where the rider sat they saw him gesticulate angrily at the waiting slave, as if ordering him to approach. Harry Frere ran to him at once, and Frank threw one leg out of the stirrup, pointing downward, and in dumb show bade him lengthen the stirrup leather, pointing out that he had been riding with his knees up towards his chin. The Emir laughed to himself, and his followers smiled at the absurd way in which these strangers loved to ride, while one of the many officers laughingly pointed to the long stirrup of the visitor's horse, but no one stirred; they only watched what was going on some thirty or forty yards away. For it was simple in the extreme: Frank sat looking down haughtily, and his brother with deft fingers rapidly unbuckled and readjusted the stirrup leather, looking up once at the masterful black who could not speak but signified his commands with haughty looks and impatient signs. It was all commonplace, and the spectators waited patiently, seeing the glance up of the slave, the trying of the left stirrup, and the impatient, imperious gesture to the man to adjust the other leather, the rider swinging himself round with his back to the Emir as the white slave darted under the horse's neck and seized the right stirrup, his face hidden by the horse from every one in the court, while it was perfectly natural that the rider with his back to the Emir should bend down as if watching the alteration being made. The next moment the obedient slave disobeyed, for a low, soft, impassioned voice said in English-- "For Heaven's sake don't start!"