“Why, didst thou kill both?”
“Shame on thee; ’twas the Arabs!”
“I thought so. I met two horsemen and two riderless steeds, galloping away down the road. I knew they’d been at some devilment.”
“Good runner, in the name of God, speed thee to Bozrah, or somewhere, for help, and bring it quickly.”
“Bring? not so; send. I come not ’till my set day!”
“Any thing; but hurry!”
“Hurry! Yes, hurry! I love hurry.”
He was away like an arrow, in his course. His steed leaped over one of the dead miscreants and Laconic shouted back: “Carrion dinners! Thank God!”