“Has he a brother in chains and misery whom he would die to save?”
“H’m, no,” said the professor again. “Frank, lad,” he said, in Latin, “I’m afraid Sam will not pass.”
“What will he do, then?” asked the Sheikh.
“Attend on his master, the Hakim.”
“One of my young men can do that.”
“Hold the wounded when the Hakim bandages their cuts.”
“One of my young men would be safer far.”
“He knows the Hakim’s ways, and will sponge the bullet-wounds and fetch the water bowl.”
“The Hakim’s black slave should do all that, Excellency.”
“I’m afraid you are right,” said the professor; “but I want to take him if we can. Come, he is a capital cook.”