The past has too much of bitterness in it to be easily put aside.
His first thought is of Mustapha, and he casts around for the Arab, whom he last saw close by the door of the hotel.
The dusky courier is near by, engaged in a little game with several companion guides, for the Arab as a rule loves gaming, and will risk everything but his horse.
When Mustapha catches his eye he comes up hastily, understanding there is something in the wind.
"We are to go again into the old town." "When, monsieur ?" "This night.

See! Ben Taleb has sent me a message." The Arab looks at the paper stolidly; it might as well be Sanscrit to him.
"Read it, monsieur." So John complies, and his guide takes in all that is said.

He nods his head to show that he understands.
"This time I, too, will change my appearance, and they will not know that it is Mustapha Cadi who walks through the lanes of old Al Jezira with an unbeliever at his side." "A bright thought, Mustapha.

When shall we leave the hotel ?" "Say half past nine, meet me here.

I will have all arranged.