"Master," exclaimed Ali, "you are exposing yourself to certain death. What can you do, alone and unaided, against these Arabs, even if you overtake them?"
"In certain cases," replied M. de Morin, "argument is futile, and I have been arguing too long already. Do what I bid you, and do not lose sight of this man so long as I am within range of his gun. Good-bye!"
He took his horse by the head and set off at full gallop.
The Arab, still motionless, smiled a malicious smile, the meaning of which it was easy to divine. I shall not be long, he seemed to say, without my revenge upon this dog of an unbeliever.
CHAPTER XXIV.
As soon as M. de Morin had disappeared in a cloud of dust, Ali, in obedience to the orders he had received, took the road back to Djiddah. The Bedouin, after a moment's hesitation, took the same route. His material interests outweighed his prudence. He rendered himself liable, it is true, to be roughly handled by the Turkish authorities on his return to the town; for, if the European had powerful friends in Djiddah, they would make him responsible for the abduction carried out under his eyes by his companions. But, on the other hand, if he disappeared and concealed himself in the desert, how could the purloiner of his horse either restore the animal or pay him its value? And such a steed as his was worthy of considerable risk.
Having come to this conclusion, he thought it better to overtake Ali and enter into conversation with him, seeing that a little preliminary information on the score of M. de Morin might be useful.
The interpreter, with that shrewdness peculiar to the Arabs generally, and developed especially in the case of those who, like Ali, are in constant communication with strangers, was equally quick in recognizing that he was bound to magnify to the utmost his master's importance, and to employ all his tact and skill in an endeavour to secure the assistance and co-operation of the Bedouin. For, if the latter perceived that such a line of conduct would conduce to his own interests, he would certainly not hesitate to institute such a search after M. de Morin and Joseph as would be sure to result in success. A genuine Arab would invariably refuse to come to the assistance of any European, if his doing so involved his pursuing or fighting against his co-religionists and his friends. But the Bedouin is not an Arab, though very often one is confounded with the other. The Arab is sedentary; he has his family, his clan, his tribe, his domestic hearth, his cattle, and very frequently his land. For their protection, or for the advantages to be derived from it, he appreciates the benefits of a partial civilization, relative to his wants, and he seeks after it. The Bedouin, on the contrary, is a Nomad; his horizon is bounded by the desert or the mountain; his property is limited to his weapons, his horse, or his camel; he lives by pillage alone, and his ideas of religion and morality are of the vaguest possible description. A story is told of a Bedouin, convicted of murder and theft, having been asked by a Frenchman—"What would you say to God, if you were summoned to appear before Him?" The reply was—"I should not say anything. I should merely greet Him. If He were good-natured and gave me food and tobacco, I should stay with Him; if not, I should mount my horse and ride away." This answer proves conclusively that, to the majority of these people, God is only an earthly king, somewhat more powerful than the rest, and living in a remote desert. The Bedouins formerly were shepherds, who formed, as it were, numerous colonies around the sedentary population, but, little by little, their wandering life has deteriorated their character and brought them down in the social scale. They must not be confounded with the original type of the Arab race; they have the same genealogical tree, but they are only the decayed branches of a tree still green and flourishing.
Knowing all this, and having long been conversant with the Bedouin character, Ali, when questioned by the steedless cavalier, was most particular in informing him that M. de Morin and his friends were very great personages, under the protection of the Turkish Government, rich enough to repay with generosity any services rendered to them, and powerful enough to punish all attempts at desertion or treason.
Whilst thus endeavouring to enlist an ally, the interpreter reached the walls of Djiddah. He rapidly made his way down the street, which runs along the whole length of the town, gained the quay, got into a boat, and went on board the steamer, which already had its steam up, and only awaited M. de Morin and Joseph to weigh anchor.