I left them standing all alone, with nothing but the empty night to bristle at.
The rest of that night, until half-an-hour before dawn was a half-waking dream of discomfort and chilly draughts in the mouth of the hotel arcade, where I sat and watched the spies, and they watched me.

The third man was presumably still sleeping in the mosque, but it was satisfactory to know that the other two were just as cold and unhappy as I felt.
About ten minutes before the car came the third man showed up sheepishly, looking surprised as well as relieved to find me sitting there.

He put in several minutes explaining matters to his friends.

I don't doubt he lied like a horse-trader and gave a detailed account of having followed me from place to place, for he used a great deal of pantomimic gesture.

The other two were cynical with the air of men who must sit and listen to another blowing his own trumpet.
The car arrived with a fanfare of horn-blowing, the chauffeur evidently having had instructions to call lots of attention to himself.