Butheita patted her dromedary on the neck with her little hand, urging it to greater speed. Like an arrow they flew across the sand until they had reached her father's tent. Butheita drew in her reins at the door and commanded the animal to kneel down.
"Stranger, we are at our journey's end! At the threshold of our tent, Butheita bids you welcome, blessed be your entrance into our house!"
She quickly loosens the shawl that binds him to the saddle, and before he is aware of what she is doing lifts him in her arms. Lightly, as though he were a plaything, she bears him into the inner apartment of the tent, where she smilingly deposits him on a mat.
"Blessed be your entrance into my tent! Now refresh yourself with repose after your long ride. I am going out to prepare your breakfast."
He follows Butheita with eager eyes, as she steps into the other apartment of the tent. Forgotten are all the schemes and thoughts that ordinarily occupy him day and night. Forgotten are the past and future; he now lives for the present only. May the sun mercifully stand still, and this hour prove an eternity! Why occupy himself with thoughts of the future, the present is so beautiful, so heavenly? Oh, that it could last forever! But no! a cloud passes over his brow; he remembers—
"No! Let the present pass rapidly," said he. "I am a prisoner, and how would my soldiers laugh to see the sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, bound and a captive in the tent of a Bedouin chieftain!"
He knew that Butheita had remained in the other apartment and heard his words. She quickly went to him, profound sorrow depicted in her charming countenance.
"They would laugh at you, sarechsme? Oh, how sorry I should be to have them do so! True, it is unpleasant to be a prisoner. Yet, you must know that my father is highly esteemed; he is the first man of the village. O sarechsme, the Bedouins call him their father, their protector, and the Mamelukes are proud of his friendship; and it was out of love for them that he made you a prisoner. If you are unhappy, oh, forgive poor Butheita, who was compelled to obey her father's commands! Oh, do not be angry with her!"
"I am not angry with you," said he, gently. "Yet consider, is it not hard and shameful for me, a man and a soldier, to lie here bound hand and foot?"
Her countenance lighted up with joy. "Yes, I understand that," said she, thoughtfully. "It pains me to the soul, not to be able to lessen your misery, to improve your condition. Yet," she suddenly continued, "I can and I will relieve you."