"Do you think so? Then if we are victorious they will kill him."
"They will be far more certain to kill him if we are defeated."
"That is true. We must trust in God!" said M. Delange.
"Allah defend us!" exclaimed the interpreter.
The small band of horsemen was now only separated from the Bedouins by a very small extent of ground, and they marched on in silence, at a walk, as if they were at a review, each man having his revolver in his hand but concealing it behind the pommel of his saddle. The Nomads, on the contrary, were gesticulating, brandishing their arms, exciting their camels with their voices, and spurring their horses, but without moving from the position they had taken up.
There were no longer any women or children to be seen in the encampment; they had prudently betaken themselves to the tents, in readiness, when the battle should be over, to insult and torture the vanquished.
As he had done at the first interview, M. Périères, followed by an interpreter, rode straight up to the chief, who, mounted on a magnificent steed, was in advance of his force.
"I have found one of my companions. I now come to demand the other."
"I have already told you that he has been killed," answered the chief.
"And I continue to disbelieve you," said M. Périères. "Did you not tell me that both were dead? You knew to the contrary, just as well as you know now where to lay your hands on the one I seek."