“Time—­time is swift!” said Kagig, pulling out a watch like a big brass turnip and shaking it, presumably to encourage the mechanism.

“The fact is,” said Monty, drawing us farther aside, for Rustum Khan was growing restive and inquisitive, “I’ve not much faith in Kagig’s prospects at Zeitoon.  He has talked to me all along the road, and I don’t believe he bases much reliance on his men.  He counts more on holding me as hostage and so obliging the Turkish government to call off its murderers.  If you men can rescue that lady in the hills and return to Tarsus you can serve Kagig best and give me my best chance too.  Hurry back and help the consul raise Cain!”

That closed the arguments, because Maga Jhaere slipped past Kagig and approached us with the obvious intention of listening.  She had discovered a knowledge of English scarcely perfect but astonishingly comprehensive, which she had chosen to keep to herself when we first met—­a regular gipsy trick.  Fred threw down the gauntlet to her, uncovering depths of distrust that we others had never suspected under his air of being amused.

“Now, miss!” he said, striding up to her.  “Let us understand each other!  This is my friend.”  He pointed to Monty.  “If harm comes to him that you could have prevented, you shall pay!”

Maga tossed back her loose coils of hair and laughed.

“Never fear, sahib!” Rustum Khan called out.  “If ought should happen to my Colonel sahib that Umm Kulsum shall be first to die.  The women shall tell of her death for a generation, to frighten naughty children!”

“You hear that?” demanded Fred.

Maga laughed again, and swore in some outlandish tongue.

“I hear!  And you hear this, you old—­” She called Fred by a name that would make the butchers wince in the abattoirs at Liverpool.  “If anything happens to that man,—­she pointed to Will, and her eyes blazed with lawless pleasure in his evident discomfort—­“I myself —­me—­this woman—­I alone will keel—­keel—­keel—­torture first and afterwards keel your friend ’at you call Monty!  I am Maga!  You have heard me say what I will do!  As for that Rustum Khan—­you shall never see him no more ever!”

Kagig pulled out the enormous watch again.  He seemed oblivious of Maga’s threats—­not even aware that she had spoken, although she was hissing through impudent dazzling teeth within three yards of him.

“The time,” he said, “has fleed—­has fled—­has flown.  Now we must go, effendi!”

“I go with that man!” announced Maga, pointing at Will, but obviously well aware that nothing of the kind would be permitted.

“Maga, come!” said Kagig, and got on his horse.  “You gentlemen may take with you each one Zeitoonli servant.  No, no more.  No, the ammunition in your pockets must suffice.  Yes, I know the remainder is yours; come then to Zeitoon and get it!  Haide—­Haide!  Mount!  Ride!  Haide, Zeitoonli!  To Zeitoon!  Chabuk!”