“He means us to escape for our lives,” said the doctor excitedly. “Yes, look,” he continued, for the young chief pointed to the window, nodded to the speaker, and hurried away.
“Quick!” said the professor; “stop for nothing. We must get to the camels, and take our chances.”
As he spoke the young chief dashed in again, followed by the Sheikh, the panting horse having been handed over to one of the guard; and this time the young man crossed to Frank, laid his left hand upon the young man’s shoulder, smiling proudly, and waving his right hand in the air as if cutting with his sword.
“The Emir’s son bears the news, Excellencies, that there has been a great battle, and that his father and his friends have routed the rebellious ones, who have taken to flight, leaving many killed and wounded, and among these there is the Emir’s greatest friend. He has been shot by a gun and is dying, but the Emir bids you be ready to bring him back to life, for he is like a brother and saved him from his treacherous foes.”
“That’s a modest demand for one evening, Robert, my son,” said the professor, with a quaintly humorous look. “How do you feel?”
“As if I had been raising the expectations of these people till the time had come for their hopes to be dashed.”
While he was speaking the triumphant blowing of trumpets and discordant beating of drums, heard faintly upon the evening air, announced the return of the victorious forces from what had doubtless been nothing much more serious than a slight skirmish. But it was serious enough for the friends.
“What is to be done?” said the professor. “We shall have to go to the dying man’s place.”
The Sheikh heard what was said, and turned to question the young chief at once.
“No, Excellencies,” he said; “the Emir is having his brother chief borne to his own house. He will be brought to the palace here, and will not be long.”