"God be praised for that!" thought Nicholas, and he repeated his question in Turkish.
"For seditious designs against the sovereign power of the Sultan and his deputy in Tripoli, Mehemet Salik."
Nicholas laughed.
"That sounds serious. Shall I go inside, gentlemen? I am your prisoner, and I deliver up my arms," and he handed the soldier his pistol and knife and stepped in. "I should advise you," he added, "to come in, too, for if some of this hot-headed clan see a Turk standing there he will not stand there long entire. Come in, friend, for though I am maliciously accused that is no fault of yours, and I would not see your blood nor the blood of my clan shed."
The soldier followed his advice and led the horses inside, barring the gate behind him.
Petrobey had heard Nicholas's voice, and a great wave of relief came over him. He had been sitting there quite silent, guarded by two soldiers, in a dumb agony of fear, not for himself, but for Yanni. That he himself could escape somehow or other on the way to Tripoli he did not doubt, but his escape meant death to Yanni if still in the town, as the letter from Mehemet said; while if he delivered himself up at Tripoli, the moment the war of independence began, death to both of them. His only consolation had been that Nicholas, at least, was safe. He would have been back an hour before, unless in some way the alarm had been given him, and his appearance now, coming in peacefully and calmly, must mean that he knew what had happened, and had some wise thought within him. Mitsos—and at the thought of Mitsos he looked up suddenly at Nicholas, in the sudden hope that Mitsos had started for Tripoli—and as he caught Nicholas's eye the latter nodded and smiled, and Petrobey felt certain that Nicholas had answered the question he had silently asked him.
Nicholas sat down cheerfully and continued to speak in Turkish:
"This is some strange mistake," he said, "but I shall not be sorry to pay my respects to his Excellency in Tripoli, a duty which I have hitherto neglected."
One of the soldiers smiled.
"And his Excellency will not be sorry to see you. He sent for you, if you remember, last autumn, and your cousin wrote him a letter saying that his bastard kinsman should be sought for and sent when found."