“But you do not like it, Ibrahim,” said the professor, looking hard in the solemn, impenetrable face before him.
“There is the servant—the doctor’s man,” said the Sheikh gravely. “I have not seen him.”
“You soon shall,” said the professor.
“Tell me,” continued the Sheikh; “this young man—can he make cures—can he bind up wounds and attend to an injured or dying man?”
“He has been my servant and has helped me for years,” said the doctor.
“Hah!”
Then there was silence again, and Frank gazed at the deeply-lined, calm and impassive face before him with a feeling of resentment.
“He will not do,” thought the young man; “he is too slow and plodding. We want a brisk, dashing fellow, full of spirit and recklessness.”
He turned to the professor, and spoke a few words in Latin.
The professor smiled.