"Here are slaves worth having. Get your ropes," he shouted to his companions.
The Count interposed.
"Art thou a believer?" he asked in Turkish.
They surveyed him doubtfully, and then turned to Hadifah and his men, tall, imperturbable looking, their dark faces visible through their open hoods of steel. They looked at their shields also, and at their bare cimeters resting points to the floor.
"Why do you ask?" the man returned.
"Because, as thou mayst see, we also are of the Faithful, and do not wish harm to any whose mothers have taught them to begin the day with the Fah-hat."
The fellow was impressed.
"Who art thou?"
"I am the Emir Mirza, of the household of our Lord the Padishah—to whom be all the promises of the Koran! These are slaves I selected for him—all these thou seest in bonds. I am keeping them till he arrives. He will be here directly. He is now coming."
A man wearing a bloody tarbousche joined the pillagers, during this colloquy, and pressing in, heard the Emir's name passing from mouth to mouth.