"I never saw any one die in that way," said Ali, half incredulously. "Can your ingenuity discover any other advantage ensuing from your misfortune?"
"Without it, I should not have met you," said Robin.
The vanity of the Persian was gratified. "And how do you regard me?" he inquired.
"As my preserver," was the reply.
"Anything besides?" asked the Amir, who had been fed on flattery from his childhood.
"Yes, but I do not wish to tell you my thoughts; you might not like them," said Robin.
"But you must and shall tell them!" cried the Amir, in the tone of one accustomed to command. Robin was to him so different from any one with whom he had ever met before, that the Persian regarded the English youth with curiosity as well as interest. "After so brief an acquaintance what am I in your eyes?" continued Ali.
"I think that, in one way, you are something like what I was before you found me."
"You speak in riddles; explain your meaning," said Ali.
"You are weary and very thirsty, and you know of no water near," Robin spoke slowly; he did not wish to offend. "And I know of a spring—an abundant spring—a Fountain of Life; perhaps God sent you to me that I might tell you where to find it."