of them changes her
course that is just what she must do within the next hour or so, and I
jolly well hope she will. I haven't forgiven that beast, Delgado, the
trick he tried to play on us by slipping away with our goods, to say
nothing of those poor devils of slaves. Pass the coffee, will you?"

For the next ten minutes we ate in silence, for Stephen had an excellent
appetite and was hungry after his morning climb.

Just as we finished our meal Hassan appeared, looking even more
villainous than he had done the previous day. I saw also that he was
in a truculent mood, induced perhaps by the headache from which he was
evidently suffering as a result of his potations. Or perhaps the fact
that the _Maria_ had got safe away with the slaves, as he imagined
unobserved by us, was the cause of the change of his demeanour. A third
alternative may have been that he intended to murder us during the
previous night and found no safe opportunity of carrying out his amiable
scheme.

We saluted him courteously, but without salaaming in reply he asked me
bluntly through Sammy when we intended to be gone, as such "Christian
dogs defiled his house," which he wanted for himself.

I answered, as soon as the twenty bearers whom he had promised us
appeared, but not before.

"You lie," he said. "I never promised you bearers; I have none here."

"Do you mean that you shipped them all away in the _Maria_ with the
slaves last night?" I asked, sweetly.

My reader, have you ever taken note of the appearance and proceedings
of a tom-cat of established age and morose disposition when a little
dog suddenly disturbs it on the prowl? Have you observed how it contorts
itself into arched but unnatural shapes, how it swells visibly to almost
twice its normal size, how its hair stands up and its eyes flash, and
the stream of unmentionable language that proceeds from its open mouth?
If so, you will have a very good idea of the effect produced upon Hassan
by this remark of mine. The fellow looked as though he were going to
burst with rage. He rolled about, his bloodshot eyes seemed to protrude,
he cursed us horribly, he put his hand upon the hilt of the great knife
he wore, and finally he did what the tom-cat does, he spat.

Now, Stephen was standing with me, looking as cool as a cucumber and
very much amused, and being, as it chanced, a little nearer to Hassan
than I was, received the full benefit of this rude proceeding. My word!
didn't it wake h