Lost trumpet

86
THE LOST TRUMPET
Abu Zabal. . . . Kalaun, yawning, cfept from
beneath the marquee of the labourers. The others
followed him. Monotonously, mechanically, they
knelt and genuflected. Georgios, emerging from
the store-tent, regarded them with a pitying con¬
tempt, twirled his immense moustaches, and made
a dive towards the coop where the chickens were.
There arose a terrified squawk. The rooster was
without his mate and our evening’s dinner was
assured.
Going down to the canal, I encountered Huebsch
returning from it, a great bucket of water in either
hand.
“Well, well. Morning, Colonel. Going for a
sluice ? Guess there’s enough here for both of us.
I’m told the Princess Bourrin has come back ?”
“That was the reason why I did not return in
the evening,” I said. “I trust you were not incon¬
venienced ?”
“Not a bit of it.” He chuckled. “And for God’s
sake don’t apologize iri Marrot’s presence. He was
greatly pleased over your absence last night. He
thought it was a deliberate flouting of us and has
high hopes of you in consequence.”
I affixed myself to the handle of one of the buckets.
We laboured tent-wards in company. “Surely this
viewpoint of Mr. Marrot’s has occasional draw¬
backs ? Have not other employees taken advantage
of it before this time ?”
The great ovoid head was shaken very decidedly.
“Not one. You see, Marrot’s always at them about