"You came direct here without attracting attention, eh?" he asked peremptorily of one of the figures mounted on a pony--of Philip, in fact, for the subaltern happened to be nearest. "Come, answer! You attracted no attention!" He was speaking in Turkish now--execrable Turkish, with a strong flavour of German accent about it, and yet a language unknown to Philip. What was he to do? Attempt an answer or remain silent? Either might easily warn the German that all was not as it should be, and then a way out of the difficulty occurred to him. Philip opened his mouth as if to answer von Hildemaller, and immediately bent double over the neck of the animal he was riding and commenced to cough violently, as if he had caught his breath, or as if the cloud of dust which the German's heavy feet had stirred had almost choked him. "Bah! Then you answer the question." The words were shot at the other horseman, and received an instant answer. "Master, all is well. We passed through the gate without creating suspicion. There is none who knows of our coming." "Then drive on," commanded the German to the man seated on the box of the vehicle; "drive on at once." "But where, where, Master?" "Where? Ah, I had forgotten that you were ignorant of the place to which I am going. Straight on till I give you an order to turn; the place is some ten miles distant." Never in all the course of their lives would Geoffrey, Keith, and Philip forget that journey--that journey, that slow, tedious journey over the rough road leading from the western gate of Bagdad, a journey occupying perhaps two hours and a half, a period which appeared to their eager, anxious minds like an eternity. They were tingling with excitement, with expectation, and with impatience. In spite of the many adventures through which they had passed, of the many tight places in which they had found themselves, this undoubtedly was the most trying of all their experiences; for at any moment the German might discover the ruse, might find out that the three who surrounded him were not his hirelings, and might defeat the efforts made to outwit him. Even his heavy breathing, his lolling head, and the fact that he was dozing, hardly helped to minimize the tension of the situation. "Ah, a building ahead of us, I think!" Geoff whispered to himself, when, having traversed the main road for some eight miles, and turned to the left at von Hildemaller's bidding, they had made their way over a side-track which was indescribably rough and trying; "a building ahead of us. Looks like a big fortress; perhaps it's a prison." He gave vent to a loud cough, so as to awaken the German, and then once more fixed his eyes on the dull shape he had seen in the distance. As for von Hildemaller, he awoke with a start, and, standing up with difficulty, and setting the rickety chaise swinging, he too peered ahead, and then, making out that distant shape, uttered a hoarse chuckle.