“You do not know Ibrahim yet,” he said quietly. “A young Englishman dashes at a thing without consideration; an Arab looks before he leaps, and examines the starting and the landing place. Hush!”
“Yes,” said the Sheikh at last, and he bowed his head again and again as he spoke, evidently calculating every move in the great game of chess with live pieces in which he was about to engage. “Yes; his Excellency here will be the learned Hakim—he is a learned Hakim, and the people will crowd to his tent. I could take him and his Excellency the professor, who speaks our tongue like I speak it myself, anywhere, and they would be welcome. The idea is grand and cannot fail, but my heart grows faint when I think of his young Excellency here. Could he bear to act like a slave for all the many weary months in that disguise?”
“Yes,” said Frank firmly.
“And hold your peace, no matter what may befall?”
“Yes. I will” said Frank, through his set teeth.
“We may come suddenly upon the prisoner in chains; we may see him beaten by his taskmaster. Brothers love brothers,” said the Sheikh gravely. “Could the young Excellency hold his peace and stand by looking on at such a time?”
“Yes,” said Frank, in a low, harsh voice: “it is to save my brother’s life. I would not speak to save my own.”
The old Sheikh’s face was stern and rugged as ever; not a muscle twitched; but there was a new light in his eyes as they rested upon Frank’s, and he uttered a low sigh of satisfaction.
“The English are a great, brave nation,” he said gravely. “No wonder they make themselves masters of the world.”
“Then you are satisfied, Ibrahim?”