Arabic when the right man uses it sounds like tooth-for-a-tooth law being laid down.  Hebrew is all music and soft vowels; Arabic all guttural consonants.  The Sheikh Anazeh (there was no doubt of his identity; they all kept calling him by name) fulminated.  The other bleated at him.  I learned his name at last.  Ali of the one eye pressed forward, took him by the sleeve, and called him Ahmed.  Ali seemed to be adding persuasion to Anazeh’s threats.  Whatever it was they were driving at, Ahmed began to look like yielding.  So, as I could not untangle more than one brief sentence at a time from all those galloping arguments, I pulled Ahmed away into a corner.

“What do they all want?” I asked him.  “Tell me in ten words.”  But he was not a brief man.

“They say the Sikhs are after them.  They have put the stolen sheep into their boats, as I told you they would, mister.  Now they order me to tow them with my motor-boat.  But it cannot be done, mister, it cannot be done!  I tell them there is government launch near Jericho that the Sikh patrol can use to overtake us.  I have a swift boat, but if I take in tow two other loaded boats we shall be caught; and then who will save everything I have from confiscation?”

“How close are the Sikhs?” I asked.

“God knows, mister!  They can come fast.  Unless I consent to let them use my boat, Anazeh will order his men to kill me, and then they will take the boat in any case!  There is only one thing:  they must leave the sheep behind and all crowd into my boat, but I cannot persuade them!”

At that moment another of Anazeh’s party burst in through the door.  He evidently bore bad news.  Catching sight of me, he lowered his voice to a whisper, and, whatever he said, Anazeh nodded gravely.  Then the old sheikh gave an order, and four of his men came without further ado to seize Ahmed.

“Bear me witness!” the wretched man called back to me as they dragged him off.  “I go under protest—­most unwillingly!”

Somebody struck him with a butt-end.  A woman’s head appeared over the top of the partition, and began to jabber noisily.  Several of Anazeh’s men hurled jests:  the highest compliment they paid her was to call her Um-Kulsum, the mother of sin.  Anazeh beckoned to me.  He did not seem to doubt for an instant that I would follow him.

I was in no mind to wait there and be arrested by the Sikh patrol.  I wondered whether they were coming in open order, combing the countryside, or heading all together straight for a known objective; and whether in either case I could give them the slip and head back toward Jerusalem.  In that minute I recalled Grim’s advice: 

“Do whatever the leader of the escort tells you and you’ll be all right.  You needn’t be afraid to trust him.”

That settled it.  I did not suppose for a minute that Grim had contemplated any such contingency as this; but he had volunteered the advice, so the consequences would be his affair.  I followed Anazeh into outer darkness, and one of his men pulled the door to after me.