"You will probably perish on the road to Tozeur, in a
sandstorm."
"Ah, those sandstorms: they interest me. Have you ever been to Tozeur?"
"God forbid! Gafsa is quite bad enough for me. Or you may be strangled by
the Arabs; such things occur every day. You smile? Read the papers! At
some places, like Sfax, there are regular organized bands of assassins,
the police being doubtless in their pay. Be sure to hold your revolver in
readiness--better carry it in your jacket pocket, like this.... No
revolver! (To the company at large) _He has no revolver_! In that case,
don't dream of going out after sunset, here or anywhere else in this
country. And read the papers."
It was always "read the papers."
I mentioned that I had walked home, at midnight on the previous evening,
from the station.
"Then don't do it again, if you value your life. Not long ago a lieutenant
was attacked on that very road, and almost beaten to death. He managed to
crawl back to barracks, and is now a wreck, incapacitated from further
service. By a miracle he was able to identify one of his assailants.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73