Coelred and Porlor, after a consultation, made the black sailors build a sort of sconce or small fort with some of the remaining bales and other materials, with an angle pointing landwards, and the two ends resting on the sea when it was high tide. They also dug a trench outside in the sand, into which the water flowed. The remaining merchandise was brought inside this extemporary intrenchment, and the loading proceeded through the night. It was calm and the moon was up. A little before dawn Coelred, who was on the watch, thought he saw dark figures cautiously creeping round the huts. The boat happened to be alongside the vessel, and there were only a few men and Porlor on shore. Coelred aroused them, and they all stood to their arms, when a sudden rush was made by a number of Arabs. The two boys stood side by side at the angle, with the sailors supporting them. Luckily it was high tide. There was a desperate struggle for the fort. The foremost assailants were hurled back by the young Englishmen with their spears. The brothers then drew their swords and began an unequal fight, supported by their men, who behaved well. More of the enemy came to the attack from behind the huts, and began to scale the enclosure. All would have been lost if, at that moment, the boat had not touched the sand. The boys retreated fighting, and were seized by their own people as the boat was shoved off. The marauders secured a small portion of the cargo, with the loss of several of their number. Two of the crew were also killed. As soon as Coelred and Porlor were on board, Monas weighed and made sail before a light northerly breeze.
The Prince's wound proved to be mortal. The loss of blood had been great, there was much exhaustion, and inflammation set in. The boys nursed him tenderly. On the third day he felt that his end was near. Porlor was supporting him, while Coelred held a cool bandage on his forehead. Monas had some skill, but the case was beyond human aid. He stood looking down on the little scene, amazed at the madness which had led to such consequences. "Farewell, my friends," said the Prince; "my folly nearly ended your lives as well as my own. You have become dear to me. I hoped that you would have been my companions in arms, and that we might have carved out an empire together. I saw that you were true and brave, worthy to be the comrades of one who is of the blood of Alaric." He paused, and his voice became weaker. He finished what he wished to say with difficulty. "I was driven from my country. Like you, I desired to return. One pleasure is left me. I can give you the means of going home." He looked at Coelred, whose cool hand, damped with water from a chatty, was on his forehead. "Take off my belt," he said. The boy hesitated. "Take it. I would see it round your waist." Coelred gently unfastened the embroidered leathern belt, which was heavy, and did with it as the dying man had told him. Athanagild smiled as if contented. "Old man," he said, with difficulty turning to Monas, "thou art my witness that I leave all I possess to my young Counts. I charge thee to safeguard them." He closed his eyes as Monas bowed low before him in token of assent. After a long pause the Prince touched the belt and said, in his corrupt Greek, "I there place the treasure close packed in secrecy. Farewell." (Ufaireo dia malki tote.) These were his last words. The boys never forgot them, and ever afterwards used the first word, which they pronounced "uvaru" for a secret hiding–place. Athanagild did not speak again, and passed away during the night.
The moon was shining brightly, and bathing the calm expanse of water with a silvery light, when the old man and the two young boys, with tears in their eyes, committed the remains of this impulsive and generous son of Alaric to the deep.
CHAPTER V
UJJAYANI
The sea was like molten silver. The burning sun blazed pitilessly down on the little vessel, which was motionless. The northerly breeze reckoned upon by Monas had failed him. They had been becalmed for days, and the water was running short. All day the boys were stretched out under a rough awning of palm leaves, panting for breath. The sky was like a dome of burnished steel. One night Porlor watched the northern horizon, and saw a bank of clouds rising, which he pointed out to the old pilot and to his brother. Soon cat's–paws were seen along the surface of the sea. Monas said there would be a breeze in the morning. But their water would not last them, unless they replenished at some well on the Arabian coast; yet this was a very perilous proceeding, for the eastern side of the Red Sea was infested by savage robbers. There was, however, no alternative, and as soon as the breeze filled his sails, Monas steered for a port called Jidda, 320 miles south of Myos Hormos. They came to off a grove of palm trees, which denoted the presence of wells, on a bright moonlight night. A short distance to the south there were a few scattered huts. When dawn broke they could see that the wells were in possession of armed men. Monas feared to land, but the boys declared they would die fighting rather than die of thirst. Well armed, and accompanied by half a dozen of the crew, Coelred and Porlor took the boat, landed, and boldly advanced towards the wells. They were met half–way by a solitary Arab, who stood in the path uttering the word "Bismillah." He was a powerful young man, about five years older than Coelred, in a long camel's–hair cloth, with the hood secured round his head by a green band. His complexion was bronzed, nose aquiline, lips rather thick, and he had piercing black eyes. He held a long spear in his right hand. Coelred said in Greek that they must have water. The young Arab replied in the same language that the wells were in his possession. He said that he was Muhammad, the son of Abdallah, servant of Abu Taleb, one of the chiefs of the Koraish of Mekka. He was commanding an expedition against the robbers who attacked the caravans of Mekka, and had defeated them and driven them from the wells of Jidda. They should have water if they paid for it—let the master of the ship come to him. Coelred sent the boat back for old Monas, and the English lads stood facing the Arab youth, all leaning on their spears. Few more words passed between them. The Arab gazed at the young Englishmen with unconcealed admiration, and the lads scanned the features of the strange being before them with feelings of curiosity and interest which they could not have explained. Monas was very agreeably surprised to find a law–maintaining force at the wells, instead of the cut–throats he expected. It was soon arranged that the vessel should be watered and replenished with some provisions, in exchange for six bales of cloth. This occupied the rest of the day. Young Muhammad and the English lads rested under the shade. The Arab's knowledge of Greek merely enabled him to strike bargains, and he could not converse, so that the time was passed, for the most part, in friendly silence. The undefinable feeling of interest which took possession of the boys when they first encountered this extraordinary man was increased as they sat near him. The expression of his countenance changed frequently, but was always remarkable. His eyes were bright and eager while he bargained with Monas; they had a soft and gentle look when they rested on the truthful faces of his companions; then again they once or twice flashed a look of fierce anger, apparently without cause. But what the boys noticed with most interest was that far–away, abstracted look which came into the Arab's eyes as he rested under the trees, as if he saw things invisible to all besides himself; and when this strange look came it lasted long. They had seen something like it in the Princess Alca, and once or twice in old Monas. But there was something in the Arab's look which was peculiar to himself: it was as if madness mingled in his strange abstraction; and when he shook it off, it was with a glance of fury. The boys were quite absorbed by their companion, and when Monas called them away the sun was already on the horizon. They took leave of each other with solemn courtesy, and an hour afterwards the vessel was under weigh and sailing down the Red Sea with a fresh northerly breeze. The boys talked long over their encounter with this strange being, and never forgot it. The makers of England and the false prophet had this wonderful meeting before the serious work of their lives was begun. It taught the English boys to recognise a man with deep convictions, and to distinguish between real fanaticism and fraud. It elevated the fanciful conceptions of the Arab, and when he dreamt of angels he saw the faces of Coelred and of Porlor.
