"Will money render thee a trusty guide?" demanded Durward.
"If I be not such without it, No," replied the heathen.
"Then what will bind thee?" asked the Scot.
"Kindness," replied the Bohemian.
"Shall I swear to show thee such, if thou art true guide to us on this pilgrimage?"
"No," replied Hayraddin, "it were extravagant waste of a commodity so rare. To thee I am bound already."
"How!" exclaimed Durward, more surprised than ever.
"Remember the chestnut-trees on the banks of the Cher! The victim, whose body thou didst cut down, was my brother, Zamet, the Maugrabin."
"And yet," said Quentin, "I find you in correspondence with those very officers by whom your brother was done to death; for it was one of them who directed me where to meet with you – the same, doubtless, who procured yonder ladies your services as a guide."
"What can we do?" answered Hayraddin, gloomily – "These men deal with us as the sheep-dogs do with the flock; they protect us for a while, drive us hither and thither at their pleasure, and always end by guiding us to the shambles."