After that he stared out of the window for a long time, not even moving his head when a crowd of Bedouins galloped to within fifty yards of the train and volleyed at it from horseback "merely out of devilment," as Hadad hastened to assure us.
We were winding up the Lebanon Valley by that time.

Carpets of flowers; green grass; waterfalls; a thatched hut to the twenty square miles, with a scattering of mean black tents between; every stone building in ruins; goats where fat kine ought to be; and a more or less modern railway screeching across the landscape, short of fuel and oil.

That's Lebanon.
We grew depressed.

Then silent.

Our meditations were interrupted by the sudden arrival of Narayan Singh in the door of the compartment, grinning full of news.
"They have opened the letter, sahib! They accuse Yussuf Dakmar of deceiving them.