‘But he lives,’ said Fakredeen. ‘I have been speaking to some of the Turkish prisoners. They also saw him fall; but he was borne off the field, and, though insensible, it was believed that the wound was not fatal. Trust me, he is at Aleppo.’ ‘They saw him borne off the field?’ ‘Safe, and, if not well, far from desperate.’ ‘O God of my fathers!’ said Eva, falling on her knees; ‘thine is indeed a mercy-seat!’
‘Yes, yes; there is nothing like the God of your fathers, Eva. If you knew the things that are going on in this place, even in these vaults and caverns, you would not tarry here an instant. They worship nothing but graven images, and the Queen has fallen in love with Tancred, because he resembles a marble statue older than the times of the pre-Adamite Sultans. Come, come!’
‘But how could they know that he was far from desperate?’
‘I will show you the man who spoke to him,’ said Fakredeen; ‘he is only with our horses. You can ask him any questions you like. Come, put on your Mamlouk dress, every minute is golden.’
‘There seems to me something base in leaving him here alone,’ said Eva. ‘He has eaten our salt, he is the child of our tents, his blood will be upon our heads.’
‘Well, then, fly for his sake,’ said Fakredeen; ‘here you cannot aid him; but when you are once in safety, a thousand things may be done for his assistance. I could return, for example.’
‘Now, Fakredeen,’ said Eva, stopping him, and speaking in a solemn tone, ‘if I accompany you, as you now require, will you pledge me your word, that the moment we pass the frontier you will return to him.’
‘I swear it, by our true religion, and by my hopes of an earthly crown.’