After a moment's fruitless search Sir Richard unslung the field-glasses which he carried, and applied them to his eyes; and in another moment, having adjusted the focus, he uttered an exclamation.
"By Gad, Anstice, you're right! It's a native of sorts, and he is coming directly towards us. He is too far off for me to distinguish his features--you look and see what you can make of him."
He handed the glasses to Anstice, who raised them to his eyes; and after adjusting the lenses to suit his younger, keener sight, he swept them round in an attempt to focus the distant object.
First an apparently illimitable expanse of sky and sand swam slowly into view, each insignificant landmark in the desert magnified almost incredibly by the powerful glasses; and at last the blue-robed native appeared suddenly as though only a stone's throw away from the man who searched for him.
The glass revealed him as an Arab of an ordinary type clad in a faded blue djibbeh, over which he wore the short grey coat so inexplicably beloved of the native. On his head was a scarlet fez; and his blue robe was gathered up in such a way as to leave bare his brown and sinewy legs as he paddled ruthlessly and unhesitatingly over the burning sand.
As he lowered the glasses Anstice gave a short description of the advancing native to Sir Richard, adding: "He seems to be in something of a hurry--he's covering the ground in a most energetic fashion--and he really does appear to be making straight for us!"
All at once Sir Richard's lately-born optimism fell from him like an ill-fitting garment. Taking the glasses back he adjusted them once more with fingers that absolutely trembled; and when after a long and steady stare he lowered them and turned to his companion his face was very serious.
"Anstice, I hope to God I'm mistaken, but that fellow looks uncommonly like Hassan--and from the haste he's making I should say he had been sent out to meet us. And that can only mean disaster--either Bruce is worse, or----" He broke off suddenly, his fine old face suddenly grey.
"Oh, it won't be so bad as that, sir!" Unconsciously Anstice replied to the unspoken suggestion. "Possibly your daughter has sent this chap to relieve your mind--Cheniston may have taken a turn for the better--heaps of things may have happened."
"Quite so." Sir Richard was replacing his glasses in their case with oddly fumbling movements. "But I wish to God we were safely back ... we can't even see the village for these confounded palm trees!"