Belbeis and the others, to the effect that
Helmar's hands should be bound and the old man taken on to Damanhour
a prisoner. As soon as this was settled, the party once more saddled
up and continued their journey.

Hakesh was made to mount behind Helmar's saddle, and in this
uncomfortable position the poor old man clung to him for support.

"I can never thank you sufficiently for saving my life," said he, as
they rode slowly along. "True, I am so old that it does not much
matter, but my work is not yet done, and I would live to see it
finished."

"There is no need of thanks," replied George. "I am glad to have
helped you. However, our troubles are not yet ended. Abdu won't soon
forget that cuff I gave him--we have yet much to fear from his
spite."

The old man's attention was now entirely taken up with clinging on
to his position, and he relapsed into silence. Helmar was occupied
with thoughts of escape, so nothing more was said until the town of
Damanhour was reached.

CHAPTER XVIII

BEHIND PRISON BARS

On his arrival at Damanhour George was conducted by his guards
straight to the prison where he was to be confined. The gaol was one
of the many ramshackle buildings which the village was comprised of.
As the little party slowly made their way through the unpaved streets,
they were intently watched by crowds of men, women, and children; the
men were principally rebel soldiers, mixed with a smattering of
insurgent townspeople, the women and children--creatures of all
sorts--from the village folk to the common ruck which follows a native
army. Many were picturesque, but others looked like the drainings of
the slums of larger cities. There was no doubt as to the sentiments
they entertained for the white people, for, as they caught sight of
Helmar's face, under escort of rebel soldiers, unmistakable signs of
rejoicing were shown, and more than once the threatening attitude of
the mob made Helmar wonder if he would reach his destination alive.

As they neared the centre of the town, Hakesh drew his companion's
attention to a building surrounded by high walls.

"That, I expect, is where they will imprison us. It is the town
gaol, and since Arabi has been here they have used it for military
purposes. It is a filthy den."

"I expect so," replied George. "From what little I know of these
people, I should hardly expect cleanliness to be amongst their
virtue