The Moor still looked somewhat mistrustfully around. Then, with an appearance of being convinced, he dismounted, and ordered his followers to dismount also, asking his guest to choose whichever of the horses he pleased for himself and his son. At this imputation of kinship, Sir Mark elevated his eyebrows; the young man was certainly a disreputable-looking object. Thinking it policy to accept the offer, Sir Mark mounted the head-man’s own steed, Oliphant following his example with the horse of one of his party. Then, bidding a score of the men lift the airship on their shoulders, the head-man and the rest remounted, and led the way to the village. Both Sir Mark and Oliphant were glad that the distance was not great, for the high Moorish saddles were a sore trial to their unaccustomed limbs. The envoy, at any rate, was under no delusion as to the nature of the hospitality promised. From the manner in which the tribesmen escorted the two Englishmen to the village, there could be little doubt that they were prisoners. From his perch in the tree Tom noticed that although the majority of the horsemen accompanied his friends towards the walls, four or five detached themselves from the party and returned to the plantation, which they proceeded to search pretty thoroughly. He made himself as small as he could among the foliage when they passed beneath him, but they did not look up; apparently it did not occur to them that any one should have mounted into a tree. When they had finished their fruitless search, they went, not in the direction their fellow-villagers had taken, but towards the coast. Tom saw them spread out as they rode from the plantation, and watched them until they were mere specks in the distance. Then, when they were, he supposed, perfectly satisfied that the suspected third member of the English party could not have escaped them, they wheeled round and returned one by one again passing not far from his hiding-place. Clearly, if they were so suspicious, it would be expedient for him to remain for some time in the tree—an unpleasant prospect, for he was becoming very stiff and cramped, and suffering rather severely from hunger and thirst. It was some hours before he ventured to slip to the ground. Even then he did not dare to leave the shelter of the wood, knowing that in the open he would inevitably be observed. But he stretched his limbs and found a few blackberries, which somewhat appeased his hunger. Every now and then he again climbed the tree to find out whether any one was approaching, or whether a watch was still being kept. Late in the afternoon he descried, on the further side of the village, a horseman approaching from the direction of the hills. He came at full gallop, and rode straight into the village, disappearing there from Tom’s view. “Hope to goodness he isn’t a messenger from the sheikh!” thought Tom.