Tancred, to whom Baroni had conveyed the meaning of the verses, was also pleased; having observed that, on a previous occasion, the great Sheikh had rewarded the bard, Tancred ventured to take a chain, which he fortunately chanced to wear, from, his neck, and sent it to the poet of Eva. This made a great sensation, and highly delighted the Arabs.
‘Truly this is the brother of queens,’ they whispered to each other.
Now the audience was breaking up and dispersing, and Tancred, rising, begged permission of his host to approach Eva, who was seated at the entrance of the pavilion, somewhat withdrawn from them.
‘If I were a poet,’ said Tancred, bending before her, ‘I would attempt to express my gratitude to the Lady of Bethany. I hope,’ he added, after a moment’s pause, ‘that Baroni laid my message at your feet. When I begged your permission to thank you in person to-morrow, I had not imagined that I should have been so wilful as to quit the tent tonight.’
‘It will not harm you,’ said Eva; ‘our Arabian nights bear balm.’
‘I feel it,’ said Tancred; ‘this evening will complete the cure you so benignantly commenced.’
‘Mine were slender knowledge and simple means,’ said Eva; ‘but I rejoice that they were of use, more especially as I learn that we are all interested in your pilgrimage.
‘The Emir Fakredeen has spoken to you?’ said Tancred, inquiringly, and with a countenance a little agitated.
‘He has spoken to me of some things for which our previous conversation had not entirely unprepared me.’
‘Ah!’ said Tancred, musingly, ‘our previous conversation. It is not very long ago since I slumbered by the side of your fountain, and yet it seems to me an age, an age of thought and events.’