‘Demand to know distinctly what these men want,’ said Tancred to Baroni, who then conferred with them.
‘They want your lordship,’ said Baroni, ‘whom they call the brother of the Queen of the English; their business is clearly to carry you to their great Sheikh, who will release you for a large ransom.’
‘And they have no feud with the Jellaheens?’
‘None; they are strangers; they come from a distance for this purpose; nor can it be doubted that this plan has been concocted at Jerusalem.’
‘Our position, I fear, is fatal in this defile,’ said Tancred; ‘it is bitter to be the cause of exposing so many brave men to almost inevitable slaughter. Tell them, Baroni, that I am not the brother of the Queen of the English; that they are ridiculously misled, and that their aim is hopeless, for all that will be ransomed will be my corpse.’
Sheikh Hassan sat on his horse like a statue, with his spear in his hand and his eye on his enemy; Baroni, advancing to the strange horsemen, who were in position about ten yards from Tancred and his guardian, was soon engaged in animated conversation. He did all that an able diplomatist could effect; told lies with admirable grace, and made a hundred propositions that did not commit his principal. He assured them very heartily that Tancred was not the brother of the Queen of the English; that he was only a young Sheikh, whose father was alive, and in possession of all the flocks and herds, camels and horses; that he had quarrelled with his father; that his father, perhaps, would not be sorry if he were got rid of, and would not give a hundred piastres to save his life. Then he offered, if he would let Tancred pass, himself to go with them as prisoner to their great Sheikh, and even proposed Hassan and half his men for additional hostages, whilst some just and equitable arrangement could be effected. All, however, was in vain. The enemy had no discretion; dead or alive, the young Englishman must be carried to their chief.
‘I can do nothing,’ said Baroni, returning; ‘there is something in all this which I do not understand. It has never happened in my time.’
‘There is, then, but one course to be taken,’ said Tancred; ‘we must charge through the defile. At any rate we shall have the satisfaction of dying like men. Let us each fix on our opponent. That audacious-looking Arab in a red kefia shall be my victim, or my destroyer. Speak to the Sheikh, and tell him to prepare his men. Freeman and Trueman,’ said Tancred, looking round to his English servants, ‘we are in extreme peril; I took you from your homes; if we outlive this day, and return to Montacute, you shall live on your own land.’
‘Never mind us, my lord: if it wern’t for those rocks we would beat these niggers.’
‘Are you all ready?’ said Tancred to Baroni.