he French will be here within two or three
hours, and although they will not venture to enter the harbour till
daybreak they could capture all vessels going out. Tell my son that I
regret much that I let him go away for the day, but had no thought that
the enemy would come so soon. Bid him not be uneasy about me, for it
will be dark in an hour, and the French will not be up until two hours
later, and they will have their hands full without trying to catch the
craft that are putting out from here. Here is a letter for him; I was
going to leave it here in case he returned.'

"Five minutes afterwards he took his place in a boat and was rowed off
to the ship. We saw the men getting up the anchor, and then the sails
were spread, and she sailed out of the harbour. Then, not wishing to be
shut up in the town, we went out through the gates and rode to the
mound by the sea-shore that is called Marabout. Then we got off our
horses to see what would happen. It was dark when the Franks' vessels
came along; some of them sailed on towards the harbour, but most of them
anchored and let down their sails, and presently one could see vast
numbers of boats rowing towards the shore."

When the man had finished, Edgar opened the note that was handed to him.
It was written in pencil.

_My dear Edgar,--In face of all probabilities the French fleet is
in sight. They will be here soon after it is dark. The city is in a
state of mid excitement. The captain of the 'Petrel' has just come
in, saying that the French are coming along the coast from the
west, and that I must be on board before it is dark. For some
reasons I regret that you are not with me, but I believe that you
will be quite safe with your Arab friends, and possibly this may be
more to your liking than a long stay in London. Take care of
yourself, lad. God bless you!--Your affectionate father._

Edgar's first thought at hearing the news had been regret that he could
not accompany his father, but this was very speedily succeeded by a
feeling of delight that he would be enabled to witness stirring events.

"Are you glad or sorry?" the sheik asked.

"I am much more glad than sorry," he replied. "My father, no doubt, is
disappointed that I am not returning home with him. I should on no
account have remained behind had it been possible to join him in time.
As it is, it is neither my fault nor his, but, as I think, a stroke of
good fortune