Thus they advance.

Presently they turn sharply to the left, and enter a dark passage.

"We will wait here a few minutes."

"But why?" asks the impatient doctor.

"You saw the group above descending, monsieur?"

"Yes."

"I recognized them as rival couriers. If they saw me they would glance
sharply at my companion. Perhaps for much duros they have some time
taken a Frank through Al Jezira at night. That would not count. If they
believed I did the same thing they would spread the news abroad, and I
am afraid we would have trouble. Better a little delay than that," and
he draws a finger across John's throat to signify the terrible stroke of
a vengeful yataghan.

"I think you are right," replies John.

They hear the group go by, laughing and joking, and the passage is again
clear.

"Again, forward, monsieur," whispers the faithful courier, and leaving
their hiding-place they push on.

They are in the heart of the old town, and a most singular sensation
comes over John as he looks all around to see the white walls, the