"Here, Ombark, you slave, pour water on my hands."
"We heard," said Mehedin, "that the town had been retaken, and the infidels driven into the sea,—a curse on their fathers!"
"May you ride three days on a thirsty camel! Why do you believe such lies? though I would it were true," said Cassim.
"Listen to me, O Moslemeen," said Omar, with an air of importance, "were not the infidels enticed into the mountains by the Emir Abd el Kader? and when they had passed the defile, did he not cut off their retreat? Great was the slaughter of the infidels; a price had been fixed for every head brought in, but it had to be lowered and lowered or the Sultan's treasury would not have paid for all; eight thousand were slain!"
"To God the glory!" said Cassim; "but you, Mahmoud, what say you to that, you, that think the Nazarene dogs invincible?" Mahmoud was a young man about twenty, of rather unprepossessing appearance, with small restless grey eyes, and a gentle and rather feminine countenance.
"I did not say so," answered Mahmoud calmly; "but I know from letters which are true, received by the Wezeer, that the whole infidel army was but seven thousand, of which more than six thousand returned to Djezair. May they be exterminated!"
"The curse of the Prophet on your house," said Cassim to Omar; "why do you invent such lies, and why are we such fathers of the ears to believe them?"
"Know you to whom you speak?" returned Omar, flushing with rage. "Tenfold curses on your father, and may every dog's son of your tribe be destroyed!"
Cassim was of Arab family, and this was too much for him.
"That from one dog," said he, and he hurled the pitcher, from which he was washing his hands, at Omar's head; but for his large turban, the blow would have been more serious: as it was, he was stunned; but recovering, sprung to his feet, dagger in hand, vowing vengeance; but now the others interfered to stop the quarrel, and Cassim, cooled by the effect of his missile, regretted his hastiness. Mahmoud was particularly zealous in pacifying the sufferer.