CHAPTER XXIX
Treachery
Only for a moment did this weakness master the cool and resolute Englishman, whose self-command was instantly restored by the recollection that the least imprudence on his part, before these watchful and merciless foes, would be fatal both to himself and to him whom he came to save.
But how was he to reveal himself to his brother, without risking an outburst of emotion that would betray them both?
A moment’s thought told him what to do; and with a well-feigned start of surprise, he cast a fierce look at Hugo, and, lifting his clenched hand, cried in English, in the tone of one hurling a threat at an enemy—
“Hugo de Claremont, do you know your brother Alured?”
That Hugo did so, was clear from the start of amazement, and the sudden paleness of his sun-browned face. But, mindful of the peril of betraying any emotion before these keen and suspicious watchers, he controlled himself with a mighty effort, and, retorting Alured’s stern look, said with equally well-assumed defiance—
“Thank God, my brother, that I see you once more!”
“What means this, El Katoom?” cried Ali Atar, who had watched this strange scene in silent wonder. “Wherefore eyest thou yon infidel so fiercely? and why did he threaten thee but now?”
“Valiant sheikh,” replied Hugo, frowning like one enraged beyond all patience, “when I last met this man, we stood sword-point to sword-point: and I little thought to meet him here.”
This, though literally true, imposed on the wily Saracen more completely than the most artful falsehood. If these two were mortal foes, and had last met in deadly fight, there could be no risk of collusion between them; and his suspicions vanished at once.