“Take what?” demanded the prince in surprise.
“Take—take my failure to find his daughter.”
“Ha! to be sure; he may be ill-pleased at that. But if I thought there was any chance of evil befalling Cormac in the camp, by all the gods of the east, west, north, and south,” cried the prince, carried away by the strength of his feelings into improper and even boastful language, “I would go and demand his liberation, or fight the whole tribe single-handed.”
“A pretty boast for a man in present safety,” remarked the Hebrew, with a remonstrative shake of the head.
“Most true,” returned the prince, flushing; “I spoke in haste, yet it was not altogether a boast, for I could challenge Gadarn to single combat, and no right-minded chief could well refuse to let the issue of the matter rest on that.”
“Verily he would not refuse, for although not so tall as you are, he is quite as stout, and it is a saying among his people that he fears not the face of any man—something like his daughter in that.”
“Is she so bold, then?”
“Nay, not bold, but—courageous.”
“Humph! that is a distinction, no doubt, but the soft and gentle qualities in women commend themselves more to me than those which ought chiefly to characterise man. However, be this as it may, if Cormac does not return soon after daybreak to-morrow, I will hie me to the camp to see how it fares with him.”
As next morning brought no Cormac, or any news of him, Bladud started for the camp, accompanied by the anxious Hebrew.