Her words created a visible impression upon them, and seriously they whispered among themselves, until suddenly their Sheikh addressed them, saying—
“Already have I decided that the Infidel shall be put to the torture, that his ears shall be cut off, his eyes put out, and his tongue removed. Are those thy wishes?”
“Thy will be done, O Ruler,” they answered; and Labakan added, “Our Woman of Wisdom hath no longer power to lead us unto victory. She is enamoured of this accursed Christian dog who bringest the direst evil upon us.”
“Then away with him!” cried Hadj Absalam, waving his arm towards me. “Let his hands be lopped off, and let his end be one of long suffering.”
Four men seized me roughly, and were dragging me out, when Zoraida, advancing a few steps, uttered a final earnest appeal. In her beautiful face was a look of intense anxiety, as she stood alone in the centre of the pavilion, pale, erect, queenly.
“Hearken!” she cried wildly. “If this man—who is not our enemy—be put to death, remember that upon thee will fall the curses of one whose incantations can produce good or evil, life or death! Thou sayest that he holdeth the power that I should hold, but I tell thee—”
“Hath he not by thine aid possessed himself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders?” interrupted the Sheikh.
“The Crescent is no longer possessed by an Infidel,” she answered quickly. “During a fight with the Kel-Fadê it was lost, and hath since that time lain undiscovered.”
“I found it at—”
“Hush! Remain silent,” she whispered, speaking in broken French and glancing at me significantly.