‘The fellow has spirit,’ said Scherirah, calmly. ‘‘Tis pity it will cost him his life.’
‘Bold man,’ exclaimed Alroy, ‘for a moment hear me! I am a pilgrim, poorer than a beggar. The jewel they talk of is a holy emblem, worthless to you, to me invaluable, and to be forfeited only with my life. You may be careless of that. Beware of your own. The first man who advances dies. I pray you humbly, chieftain, let me go.’
‘Kill him,’ said Scherirah.
‘Stab him!’ exclaimed Kisloch.
‘Give me the jewel,’ said the third robber.
‘The God of David be my refuge, then!’ exclaimed Alroy.
‘He is a Hebrew, he is a Hebrew,’ exclaimed Scherirah, jumping up. ‘Spare him, my mother was a Jewess.’
The assailants lowered their arms, and withdrew a few paces. Alroy still remained upon his guard.
‘Valiant pilgrim,’ said Scherirah, advancing, with a softened voice, ‘are you for the holy city?’
‘The city of my fathers.’