“Vain boaster,” said Marzak.
“Am I so?” Sakr-el-Bahr loosed his shaft at last into the gloom, and peered after it following its flight, which was wide of the direction of the swimmer’s head. “A hit!” he cried brazenly. “He’s gone!”
“I think I see him still,” said one.
“Thine eyes deceive thee in this light. No man was ever known to swim with an arrow through his brain.”
“Ay,” put in Jasper, who stood behind Sakr-el-Bahr. “He has vanished.”
“’Tis too dark to see,” said Vigitello.
And then Asad turned from the vessel’s side. “Well, well—shot or drowned, he’s gone,” he said, and there the matter ended.
Sakr-el-Bahr replaced the cross-bow in the rack, and came slowly up to the poop.
In the gloom he found himself confronted by Rosamund’s white face between the two dusky countenances of his Nubians. She drew back before him as he approached, and he, intent upon imparting his news to her, followed her within the poop-house, and bade Abiad bring lights.
When these had been kindled they faced each other, and he perceived her profound agitation and guessed the cause of it. Suddenly she broke into speech.