“How can you have the heart,” said Harold at last turning to Yoosoof, “to treat these poor creatures so cruelly?”
Yoosoof shrugged his shoulders.
“My fader treat them so; I follow my fader’s footsteps.”
“But have you no pity for them? Don’t you think they have hearts and feelings like ourselves?” returned Harold earnestly.
“No,” replied the Arab coldly. “They have no feelings. Hard as the stone. They care not for mother, or child, or husband. Only brutes—cattle.”
Harold was so disgusted with this reply that he relapsed into silence.
Towards the afternoon, while the dhow was running close in-shore, a vessel hove in sight on the horizon. A few minutes sufficed to show that it was a steamer. It was of course observed and closely watched by the slave-dealers as well as by Harold Seadrift and Disco Lillihammer, who became sanguinely hopeful that it might turn out to be a British man-of-war. Had they known that Yoosoof was equally anxious and hopeful on that point they would have been much surprised; but the wily Arab pretended to be greatly alarmed, and when the Union Jack became clearly visible his excitement increased. He gave some hurried orders to his men, who laughed sarcastically as they obeyed them.
“Yoosoof,” said Harold, with a slight feeling of exultation, “your plans seem about to miscarry!”
“No, they not miscarry yet,” replied the Arab, with a grim smile.
“Tell me, Yoosoof,” resumed Harold, prompted by strong curiosity, “why have you carried us off bound in this fashion?”