THE ESCAPE FROM JEDABIA 43 



relays of green tea in an inadequate kettle and filled 

 both our thermos flasks, also the water bottles. 



It was then nearly 9 p.m., at which hour Hassanein 

 had said he would return, but the minutes dragged on 

 and there was no sign of his coming. At 10 I became 

 anxious. I couldn't lie still any more, and began walk- 

 ing up and down the big room by the light of one candle 

 guttering on the window ledge. Ali came to me to ask 

 if he and the servant, who was also a spy, could go home. 

 I said he must stay until Hassanein Bey returned, for I 

 did not want to give the boy an opportunity of inquiring 

 into my companion's designs, but each hour that went 

 by made our flight more and more difficult, for we could 

 not begin to pack beds, luggage, etc., till the house was 

 empty. At 11 I was nearly frantic. I don't think I have 

 ever spent a worse two hours. I began to wonder whether 

 the spies had discovered our plot and, deciding to 

 frustrate it at all costs, had arranged to have my ally 

 knocked senseless as he crossed the wide expanse of white 

 sandstone between our house and the scattered buildings 

 of Jedabia. 



At 11.30, as I was preparing to set forth in search 

 and was actually winding myself into the intricacies of 

 a jerd so as to pass unnoticed in the dark, Hassanein 

 arrived, staggering beneath the mejidies, for a very 

 moderate sum in that coinage weighs intolerably. He 

 discharged eggs, bread and clothing in a heap and 

 explained that the usual Arab dilatoriness had delayed 

 him. The letters to sheikhs of zawias were not ready, 

 the eggs were not cooked, the clothes were not quite 

 finished. However, we didn't wait for much talk. We 

 sent off the servants with minute instructions about 

 to-morrow's work. An Arab spy is clever in some ways, 

 but he never looks ahead, so it is generally fairly easy 

 to lull his suspicions. 



