‘A thousand salaams,’ he exclaimed, when he had reached Tancred; ‘there is but one God. I press you to my heart of hearts. There are also other friends, but they are not here.’
‘Salaam, great Sheikh! I feel indeed we are brothers. There are friends of whom we must speak, and indeed of many things.’
Thus conversing and riding side by side, Amalek and Tancred entered the camp. Nearly five thousand persons were collected together in this wilderness, and two thousand warriors were prepared at a moment’s notice to raise their lances in the air. There were nearly as many horses, and ten times as many camels. This wilderness was the principal and favourite resting-place of the great Sheikh of the children of Rechab, and the abundant waters and comparatively rich pasturage permitted him to gather around him a great portion of his tribe.
The lamps soon gleamed, and the fires soon blazed; sheep were killed, bread baked, coffee pounded, and the pipe of honour was placed in the hands of Tancred. For an Arabian revel, the banquet was long and rather elaborate. By degrees, however, the guests stole away; the women ceased to peep through the curtains; and the children left off asking Baroni to give them backsheesh. At length, Amalek and Tancred being left alone, the great Sheikh, who had hitherto evinced no curiosity as to the cause of the presence of his guest, said, ‘There is a time for all things, for eating and for drinking, also for prayers. There is, also, a season to ask questions. Why is the brother of the Queen of the English in the Syrian desert?’
‘There is much to tell, and much to inquire,’ said Tancred; ‘but before I speak of myself, let me know whether you can get me tidings of Eva, the daughter of Besso.’
‘Is she not living in rooms with many divans?’ said Amalek.
‘Alas!’ said Tancred, ‘she was a prisoner, and is now a fugitive.’
‘What children of Gin have done this deed? Are there strange camels drinking at my wells? Is it some accursed Kurd that has stolen her sheep; or some Turkman, blacker than night, that has hankered after her bracelets?’
‘Nothing of all this, yet more than all this. All shall be told to you, great Sheikh, yet before I speak, tell me again, can you get me tidings of Eva, the daughter of Besso?’
‘Can I fire an arrow that will hit its mark?’ said Amalek; ‘tell me the city of Syria where Eva the daughter of Besso may be found, and I will send her a messenger that would reach her even in the bath, were she there.’