At this moment there was some little disturbance without the tent, which it seems was occasioned by the arrival of Tancred’s servants, Freeman and True-man. These excellent young men persisted in addressing the Arabs in their native English, and, though we cannot for a moment believe that they fancied themselves understood, still, from a mixture of pride and perverseness peculiarly British, they continued their valuable discourse as if every word told, or, if not apprehended, was a striking proof of the sheer stupidity of their new companions. The noise became louder and louder, and at length Freeman and Trueman entered.
‘Well,’ said Tancred, ‘and how have you been getting on?’
‘Well, my lord, I don’t know,’ said Freeman, with a sort of jolly sneer; ‘we have been dining with the savages.’
‘They are not savages, Freeman.’
‘Well, my lord, they have not much more clothes, anyhow; and as for knives and forks, there is not such a thing known.’
‘As for that, there was not such a thing known as a fork in England little more than two hundred years ago, and we were not savages then; for the best part of Montacute Castle was built long before that time.’
‘I wish we were there, my lord!’
‘I dare say you do: however, we must make the best of present circumstances. I wanted to know, in the first place, whether you had food; as for lodging, Mr. Baroni, I dare say, will manage something for you; and if not, you had better quarter yourselves by the side of this tent. With your own cloaks and mine, you will manage very well.’
‘Thank you, my lord. We have brought your lordship’s things with us. I don’t know what I shall do to-morrow about your lordship’s boots. The savages have got hold of the bottle of blacking and have been drinking it like anything.’
‘Never mind my boots,’ said Tancred, ‘we have got other things to think of now.’