“To Allah and his prophet be all praise,” replied the Hadji, piously. “Then am I content. But say, my brother, does my wife still live to rejoice in the growing promise of our son?”
“Yes, yes, she still lives.”
“Allah be praised!” again ejaculated the Hadji. “And say, does my sister still live; does she also rejoice in the noble deeds of your gallant sons? Are they yet numbered among the stern bulwarks of our country? Do their steeds yet carry them like thunder-bolts against the foe?”
The old warrior shook his head.
“Alas! my brother, the leaden death of the hated Urus (the name the Circassians give to the Russians) have laid two in the graves of our fathers, where they sleep the sleep of the brave; but the rest yet remain to avenge their fate.”
“God is great,” answered the Hadji, “and by his prophet’s help we will yet take ample vengeance on their destroyers.”
“Allah is merciful, and will give us blood for blood,” replied the other. “But think not that they died ere they had made their foes pay dearly for their death. No, hundreds of the slavish Urus fell before their conquering sabres; and in that thought, I cease to mourn, but yet what are the lives of a thousand Urus to one true son of the Attèghèi?”
“Bosh! as nothing. As chaff to corn, as dross to pure gold; but we will avenge them brother,” said the Hadji, grasping his sword. “My heart will beat with joy, when I find myself once more among their ranks.”
“That may soon be; for their ships, but a short time ago, landed a large force on the coast to the north, who are yet shut up in their fort. But say, who are these strangers who accompany you? What do they here?”
“In the first joyful moment of meeting you I thought not of them, but will now attend to the duties of hospitality,” And introducing Ivan, the Hadji added, “I bring with me, one who is our countryman, my adopted son, next to Alp in my love; regard him as such, for my sake.”