"No, no, I cannot tell you that," said the boy.
"Speak, boy. You shall be safe. I will protect you from all harm. What woman was it?"
"Master, do not ask me. I dare not tell you."
"Listen," said Ishmael, and his voice grew hard and hoarse. "There is a traitor in my camp, and I must find out who it is. What treacherous woman sent you into Cairo with that letter?"
The boy struggled hard. His ugly black face under his shaven poll was distorted by fear. He hesitated, began to speak, then stopped altogether.
At that moment Helena came forward as if she had suddenly awakened from a dream, and Mosie saw her for the first time since he had been dragged into the tent. In another instant all fear had gone from his face and his eyes were blazing with courage.
"Tell me, I command you," said Ishmael.
"No, no, I will never tell you," said the boy.
Again a groan—this time a growl—came from the people at the tent's mouth.
"Torment would make his tongue wag," said one.