"With me," the Professor assured him, "you will be safe anywhere. I speak
a little of their language. I have lived with them. They are far more
civilized than some of the interior tribes."

"We'll find a comfortable hotel where we can leave the girls--" Quest
began.

"You can cut that out," Laura interrupted. "I don't know about the kid
here, but if you think I'm going to miss a camel ride across the desert,
you're dead wrong, so that's all there is to it."

Quest glanced towards Lenora. She leaned over and took his arm.

"I simply couldn't be left behind," she pleaded. "I've had quite enough of
that."

"The journey will not be an unpleasant one," the Professor declared
amiably, "and the riding of a camel is an accomplishment easily acquired.
So far as I am aware, too, the district which we shall have to traverse is
entirely peaceable."

They disembarked and were driven to the hotel, still discussing their
project. Afterwards they all wandered into the bazaars, along the narrow
streets, where dusky children pulled at their clothes and ran by their
side, where every now and then a brown-skinned Arab, on a slow-moving
camel, made his way through the throngs of veiled Turkish women, Syrians,
Arabs, and Egyptians. Laura and Lenora, at any rate, attracted by the
curious novelty of the scene, forgot the heat, the street smells, and the
filthy clothes of the mendicants and loafers who pressed against them.
They bought strange jewellery, shawls, beads and perfumes. The Professor