Ben Ahmet flourished his scimiter, and Ali Mustaf lifted a long-bladed knife, crying:
“Back, dog of a Christian, or, by Allah! this shall pierce your heart!”
“Oh-ho! So that’s the trick. Well, if I stand back, what do you propose to do? Tell me that.”
“You are trapped, knave.”
“Are you sure? I will acknowledge that I allowed yonder base slave to deceive me; but it is a strong trap that can hold me.”
“By the beard of the Prophet, you speak boldly, boy.”
“I speak the truth. What do you intend to do with me?”
“You shall never pass from beneath this roof alive.”
Frank whistled softly.
“That is agreeable information! So you mean to murder me?”