“I feel ever so much braver,” said Ibrahim.
“Yes, there is a great satisfaction in having a full stomach.”
“How do you feel, Selim?”
The man groaned, wearily, and in a quaint manner told his master that he felt bad.
“I shall die,” he said, “and I don’t want to do so. Before I ate salt with your excellency I wanted to die, but now—I don’t like it at all.”
The Arab had been so miserable that all terror had been removed from the thought of death. His appetite satisfied, his love of life grew stronger, and the very thought of his impending fate was horrible.
“Hold my hand,” suddenly exclaimed Max.
“What are you going to do?”
“Never mind; I want to stand up, and this confounded boat is so shaky I am afraid I’ll fall over into the water.”
Ibrahim grasped Max around the legs, while Selim held one hand.