"Such a child! He commands four hundred spahi horse, has already taken part in three engagements, had two horses shot down under him, and in the coming war is to lead the left wing of my corps."
The Beldis now looked in astonishment at the child who, conscious that all eyes were directed toward him, strove to assume a proud look.
"But you will at least stand beside your son in the contest?" said Madame Beldi, anxiously.
"By no means. I shall lead the centre and he will look after his division. At his age I was already wearing the Order of Nischan and I hope he will not return without having won it, too."
"But suppose he should come to a hand-to-hand fight and be in danger?" asked Madame Beldi, with growing anxiety.
"Then he will be fighting as befits him," replied Kutschuk, stroking his moustache, that seemed to rise of its own accord.
"But he is far too young to enter a contest with men," said Madame Beldi, with an expression of pity.
"Feriz," Kutschuk called to his son, "take a sword from the wall there and show our friends that you know how to swing it like a man."
The boy sprang up and chose from the weapons hanging on the wall, not a sword but a heavy club, seized it at the very end of the handle and swung it with outstretched arm so easily in every direction that it would have been a credit to any man. His proof of strength was rewarded by a general cry of astonishment.
"Kutschuk, give me the boy!" said Beldi.