“Of course I should have to take Abdul—or rather he would have to take me; and however dangerous it would be for two, it would be still more dangerous for three. If you’ll stay and keep an eye on the airship, I’ll take advantage of the moonlight and go and have a look round. Your turn will come, you may be sure of that. If I don’t come back, you know how to set the machine going. Scoot back to the yacht, and get Mr. Greatorex to make straight for Tangier.” “There’ll be a pretty row about this before we’ve done with it! All right!—if you _will_ go. But I say, they’ll spot you for a foreigner if any one catches sight of you—in those clothes.” “Yes; I forgot that. I wish I’d provided myself with a rig-out in the Moorish style.” Here Abdul produced from the folds of his djellab a small bundle, which, being unrolled, proved to be a long grey garment with a pair of yellow shoes wrapped in it. “You’re a brick, Abdul!” cried Tom. “You guessed I’d want something of this sort, eh?” “Yes, master. I could only get one.” “So you’re out of it for the present, anyhow, Oliphant. Well, good-bye. If we’re lucky we’ll be back by the morning; if not—you know what to do.” Five minutes later Tom, swathed in the djellab, disappeared over the brow of the hill with Abdul. He carried his revolver; the Moor had only a knife. In his unfamiliar garment Tom found it by no means easy to make the descent down the rough precipitous path; but Abdul went first, picking the easiest course, and both arrived safely at the bottom. Then they began their march to the village. It was a toilsome journey, and Tom found the Moorish slippers a very inconvenient footgear. A long tramp, and another steep climb, brought them to the wall of the village, which was built on the slope of the hill. The gates had been shut at sunset, Abdul explained: that was the Moorish fashion. Tom perceived that the wall was utterly dilapidated: in that respect Ain Afroo was typically Moorish. In many parts the parapet had fallen to pieces, and, for any protection it afforded, the wall might as well not have been there. It gave easy foothold to a climber, and Tom indulged a hope that the kasbah might prove to be in equally bad preservation.