João was resigned. ‘As I am to die,’ he thought, ‘I thank God I have a clear conscience, in that I have never wilfully wronged a fellow-creature.’ Then he remembered the kind pity shown him by the daughter of the Sheikh, and said to himself, ‘As I am to die, that sweet maiden at least will have pity and will mourn for me.’ So he walked erect through the throng of spectators with as firm a step as the fetters would permit, and was conducted to the Sheikh, who was seated on a hillock near the site chosen for the execution of the prisoners. Crowds of women and children thronged on each side of his path, and as he passed near some muffled figures of women, João heard the words, ‘Put your trust in God, He is merciful!’ and his heart leapt with joy, for he recognised the sweet voice of the Sheikh’s daughter.
When the three prisoners were placed in front of the Sheikh, he thus addressed them: ‘Oh, Kaffers! Enemies of our Faith! prepare for death and the eternal punishment which awaits you hereafter. You,’ he said, turning to João, ‘boast that you are the famous Portuguese gunsmith. Does this Sherifian edict of our Lord and Master the Sultan belong to you?’ holding it out, as he spoke, for João to see.
‘I am João, the gunsmith,’ the latter replied.
‘Prove it,’ said the Sheikh, ‘before twenty-four hours pass, by making a twisted gun-barrel; a forge and implements shall be prepared. If you fail, you will be placed as a target and perish under the fire of the Faithful; and, as for the other prisoners’ (turning towards them), ‘Kaffers!’ he exclaimed, ‘Blood for blood! You shall both die, and thus those whose brethren were slain by the accursed infidels shall have their revenge!’
With a loud voice João cried out, ‘I swear by the Holy Cross of Christ, if you injure a hair of the head of my countrymen, I shall not do what you have proposed in order to prove that I am the gunsmith. Neither durst thou, O Sheikh! put me or my countrymen to death unless prepared to incur the dire displeasure of the Sultan.’ Then, turning round to the assembly of elders, he continued in a loud voice: ‘I am João the gunsmith, the maker of twisted barrels, and as I have been offered by the Sultan a large sum to serve His Majesty, whosoever amongst you may have cause to be dissatisfied with the Sheikh, and will give immediate notice at the Court that I am a prisoner here and that the Sheikh has threatened to take my life, will be sure to obtain high favour with His Majesty, who wishes to employ me, as the Sheikh knows right well from the Sherifian edict now in his possession. We three Portuguese soldiers were taken prisoners in battle, and not in the commission of crime. The Sheikh calls us rebels against God, but we believe in the Almighty as you do. We have the same law as you from God, “Thou shalt do no murder.”’
Sheikh Shashon shook with rage and fear: he knew he had enemies amongst the tribe, as many had suffered from his tyranny and extortion: so he dreaded lest some one should hasten to the Court and report to the Sultan that the gunsmith João was his prisoner and sentenced to death. Turning therefore to the slaves who guarded the prisoners, he said, ‘Take the infidels back to their place of confinement. They shall die a more cruel death than that of being shot, since this accursed Nazarene has dared to threaten me in such an insolent manner.’
Murmurs arose amongst the crowd that the prisoners should at once be slain, some crying out ‘Blood for blood,’ but the more prudent elders told the Sheikh that João ought to be taken at once to the Sultan to make gun-barrels for the Faithful to fight with against the Christians.
After much uproar the prisoners were led off, and the Sheikh returned to his dwelling, having made up his mind, from fear of incurring the Sultan’s displeasure, to prepare at once to proceed to the Court. He sent for Rahma, and when she appeared, said, ‘Loved daughter! I have met your wishes, and shall spare the lives of the Christians. To-morrow they will accompany me to Fas to be delivered over to the Sultan, who may, if such be his will, put them to death, should the Nazarene who calls himself João the gunsmith prove to be an impostor.’
Rahma embraced her father but said not a word. She rejoiced in her heart, for she was certain João was not an impostor, but she felt sad that he was to leave, and that she could never hope to see again the handsome young Christian whose life she had endeavoured to save, but who, after all, might suffer death hereafter by order of the Sultan.
‘Light of my eyes!’ said the Sheikh, ‘do not look so sad. Is it because I leave you? Please God, I shall soon return and prepare for your wedding with my friend old Sheikh Amar.’