“There’s no help for it, Burne,” said the professor calmly; “it is of no use to complain.”
“I am an Englishman, sir, and I shall grumble as much and as long as I please,” cried the old gentleman snappishly; “and you, Lawrence, if you laugh at me, sir, I’ll knock you off your horse. Here, what was the use of our buying weapons of war, if we are not going to use them?”
“Their conversation has been short,” said the professor. “I suppose it is settled. So vexatious too, when we were quite near the ancient stronghold.”
“Bah! you’ve seen old stones and ruins enough, man. I wish to goodness we were back in London. Well, Yussuf, what do they say?”
“That if your excellencies will surrender peaceably, you shall not be hurt. There is nothing else for us to do but give up.”
“And you advise it, Yussuf?” said the professor.
“Yes, your excellency, we must give up; and perhaps if you are patient I may find a means for us to escape.”
“Hah! that’s better,” cried Mr Burne; “now you are speaking like a man. Come along, then, and let’s get it over. Can the brutes speak English?”
“No, excellency, I think not. Shall I lead?”
“No,” said Mr Burne. “I shall go first, just to show the miserable ruffians that we are not afraid of them if we do give up. Come along, Preston. Confound them! how I do hate thieves.”