"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head.
"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. "It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain met his death."
I was horrified at this logical reply.
"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is coming."
I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew back.
"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you nor for anyone else."
And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which
still sounds in my ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to you."
I looked at him uncomprehendingly.
"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. "For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the help of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."