Zaguir. (The same) As they have been there since last evening, it must be that they are lying in wait for some one.
Aisha. And whom?
Zaguir. (With embarrassment) Perhaps those who come at night and return at dawn.
Aisha. (Severely) What did you say?
Zaguir. (Quickly) Don’t be angry—I am only warning you! Otherwise, I should have said nothing.
Aisha. And what do you know, naughty boy?
Zaguir. Only the worst of things. For example, that he comes down the slope and enters through the orchard gate, which has a key; that he steals along in the shadow of the arcades until he reaches here and that he goes away in a similar manner—on foot as he comes, without entrusting to us his horse.
Aisha. Above all you have not mentioned this?
Zaguir. Indeed to no person!—it is serious!
Aisha. He is a Moor, a refugee in the Sierra, a rebel who comes secretly to obtain medicine for his wife who is ill.