‘Perhaps in the desert, where there is none to be useful, I might not be useless,’ said Eva, with some reluctance and reserve.
‘Hope has only one arrow left,’ said Baroni, mournfully.
‘Is it indeed so bad?’
‘Oh! save him, Eva, save him!’ exclaimed Fakredeen, distractedly.
She placed her finger on her lip.
‘Or I shall die,’ continued Fakredeen; ‘nor indeed have I any wish to live, if he depart from us.’
Eva conversed apart for a few minutes with Baroni, in a low voice, and then drawing aside the curtain of the tent, they entered.
There was no change in the appearance of Tancred, but as they approached him he spoke. Baroni dropped into his former position, Fakredeen fell upon his knees, Eva alone was visible when the eyes of Tancred met hers. His vision was not unconscious of her presence; he stared at her with intentness. The change in her dress, however, would, in all probability, have prevented his recognising her even under indifferent circumstances. She was habited as a Bedouin girl; a leathern girdle encircled her blue robe, a few gold coins were braided in her hair, and her head was covered with a fringed kefia.
Whatever was the impression made upon Tancred by this unusual apparition, it appeared to be only transient. His glance withdrawn, his voice again broke into incoherent but violent exclamations. Suddenly he said, with more moderation, but with firmness and distinctness, ‘I am guarded by angels.’
Fakredeen shot a glance at Eva and Baroni, as if to remind them of the tenor of the discourse for which he had prepared them.