CHAPTER IV
“What’s the meaning of this, Mansoor?” cried Belmont harshly. “Who are these people, and why are you standing staring as if you had lost your senses?”
The dragoman made an effort to compose himself, and licked his dry lips before he answered.
“I do not know who they are,” said he in a quavering voice.
“Who they are?” cried the Frenchman. “You can see who they are. They are armed men upon camels, Ababdeh, Bishareen—Bedouins, in short, such as are employed by the Government upon the frontier.”
“Be Jove, he may be right, Cochrane,” said Belmont, looking inquiringly at the Colonel. “Why shouldn’t it be as he says? why shouldn’t these fellows be friendlies?”
“There are no friendlies upon this side of the river,” said the Colonel abruptly; “I am per-
