Oliphant followed these directions, and by and by returned, with his trousers cut in several places. “I tried to climb up,” he explained, “but couldn’t manage it. I think it could be done, though, with practice.” “Which we haven’t time for.” The discovery of the caves had occupied some little time, and furnished material for speculation and talk that helped to relieve the tedium of waiting. But their patience had well nigh given out when night once more descended and still Abdul had not returned. The two were eating their supper in moody silence when they heard suddenly the sound of a stone rattling down the hillside. They seized their revolvers and sprang up, waiting for another sound. Clearly some one, man or animal, was climbing the hill. All was again silent; then, from some point beyond them, came the sound of a high-pitched voice. “It’s Abdul. Thank goodness!” cried Oliphant, with a laugh. “Come on, you laggard, and give an account of yourself.” “You have been a long time, Abdul,” said Tom, as that young Moor came through the darkness. “True, master; but it is with us a saying, ‘Every delay is good.’” “Well, come and have something to eat. You’re pretty tired and hungry, no doubt. Then you can tell us what you have done.” But Abdul declined the food offered him, and producing a wallet from beneath his djellab, displayed a heap of dates. He related that he had made his way safely into the village, but as he went through the street towards the house of Hamet Ali—a friend on whose discretion he could rely—he fancied from the manner of an old water-carrier that the man had recognized him. He contrived to slip away among a company of muleteers that happened to be passing, and reached his friend’s house unmolested; but shortly afterwards he learnt from this friend that the water-carrier had mentioned his suspicions, and that inquiries were being diligently made for him through the village. Every exit was watched; and his friend was in some anxiety lest an emissary of the sheikh should come and search the house. Hamet, however, was an old enemy of the sheikh, though, with true oriental dissimulation, he had hitherto managed to hide the fact. He agreed to give Abdul shelter so long as it was safe to do so, but impressed upon him that he must not venture to show himself out of doors. He then inquired what had brought Abdul to the village, and the boy thought it advisable to confide in him, taking care to heighten the mystery of the wonderful ship that sailed through the air, and to promise, on the Englishmen’s behalf, liberal bakshish to Hamet if he lent all possible assistance to the enterprise. He wished his friend to send a messenger to Tom, but this Hamet refused to do, for the results to himself, if the messenger were followed and caught, might be disastrous.