"Oh," replied George in the same language, "and what does he want with me? Who is this officer? Why can't he come to me?" he went on in defiant tones.
"You are prisoner, and the officer he not come to prisoners. You are to die soon," was the comforting reply.
"Yes, and who is going to kill me? You?" with fine contempt in his tones, eyeing the insignificant wretch up and down.
"I come not here to talk with the dog of a Christian. If you will not come with me, I must take you, for the Pasha will not wait. Come!"
Helmar burst out into a loud laugh. The thought of this dirty little Egyptian taking him anywhere against his will was too much for him; notwithstanding the exigencies of the situation he resolved to tease him.
"And how do you propose to drag me from here if I do not choose to go?"
The little man's eyes glittered, and his hand rested on a revolver in his belt. He saw that the "dog of a Christian" was laughing at him, and he did not like it.
"My orders are to bring you; if you will not come alive, then——" and he drew his revolver and levelled it at George's head.
Thinking he had gone far enough, and realizing that the wretch was in earnest, George stopped laughing.
"All right, lead the way, I'll go with you. But you might give me something to eat; I haven't touched food since yesterday afternoon and am hungry."