‘We are children of Jethro, and the great Sheikh has sent us a long way to give you salaam. Your desert here is not fit for the camel that your Prophet cursed. Come, let us finish our business, for we wish to see a place where there are palm trees.’
‘Are these children of Eblis?’ said Sheikh Hassan to Baroni.
‘It is the day of judgment,’ said Baroni, looking pale; ‘such a thing has not happened in my time. I am lost.’
‘What do these people say?’ inquired Tancred.
‘There is but one God,’ said Sheikh Hassan, whose men had now reached him, ‘and Mahomet is his Prophet. Stand aside, sons of Eblis, or you shall bite the earth which curses you!’
A wild shout from every height of the defile was the answer. They looked up, they looked round; the crest of every steep was covered with armed Arabs, each man with his musket levelled.
‘My lord,’ said Baroni, ‘there is something hidden in all this. This is not an ordinary desert foray. You are known, and this tribe comes from a distance to plunder you;’ and then he rapidly detailed what had already passed.
‘What is your force, sons of Eblis?’ said the Sheikh to the horsemen.
‘Count your men, and your muskets, and your swords, and your horses, and your camels; and if they were all double, they would not be our force. Our great Sheikh would have come in person with ten thousand men, were not your wilderness here fit only for Giaours.’
‘Tell the young chief,’ said the Sheikh to Baroni, ‘that I am his brother, and will shed the last drop of my blood in his service, as I am bound to do, as much as he is bound to give me ten thousand piastres for the journey, and ask him what he wishes.’