"No; wait a little," I answered; "let me talk to him a bit first."
Approaching near enough for him to hear me distinctly, I said:
"Belesys, you have only to cry out or make the least resistance, and in one instant that knife severs your head from your body."
"Soldiers," I continued, turning myself to his guard, "the moment you call for assistance or lift up your hands to attack us, that moment, mark me, your general is a dead man."
The proximity of Bichri's knife to the general's gullet seemed to have a sobering influence upon him, and in a voice very much subdued, he implored his soldiers and slaves to keep perfectly quiet, and at his wish they retreated to the sides of the tent.
Bichri began to whistle one of his Benjamite airs, and deliberately brought up his other knee on to the general's chest.
"You are stifling me, young man; let me breathe, let me breathe."
"O nonsense, I know better than that," replied Bichri, without stirring an inch; "I am a very light weight."
"Let me go," gasped Belesys. "Believe me, I was only joking; let me free, and I will recompense you liberally."