Removing his chibouk, the Pirate of the Desert glared at me fiercely for several moments without uttering a word, slowly raising himself into a sitting posture, an example followed by his two brutal-looking companions. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke that seemed to hang like a pall over the three occupants of the divan.
Labakan, raising his brown, sinewy hand towards me, was the first to break the painful silence.
“Behold! O gracious Master!” he cried. “Report hath not lied. Thine enemy liveth!”
The great Sheikh of the Ennitra rose, his countenance livid with rage.
“Lo! it is verily the accursed son of Eblis, thief of our secrets!” he burst forth in fiery passion. “At length thou art revealed unto us! Thou — who hast brought upon us despair, defeat, and death, who hast defiled the land that we inhabit — art now within our power, and, upon the Book of Everlasting Will, I swear thou shalt not escape. For many moons hast thou evaded us, and though our horsemen have scoured the plains of Ahaggar, the Areg, and the Ahír, even unto the waterless Desert of Tibbou, in search of thee, thou disappearest like the shadow of a cloud. Neither the terrors of the wilderness, nor the knife of our servant Labakan, have daunted thee, but at last thy career hath ended — at last thy doom is nigh!” he cried, thundering forth the final sentence, and shaking his clenched and sinewy fist.
“True, O Ruler of the Desert,” I answered, as he paused to take breath, “I have again fallen into thine hands, yet the judgments of the Bedouins are tempered with — ”
“Again?” he ejaculated, his black eyes full of angry fire. “All yes! I remember. Thou wert put to the torture which we reserve for dogs of thine accursed race, and thy strength burst the bonds that held thee.”
“The influence of this son of an unbeliever, who hath stolen our power, was the cause of our defeat when our brave sons attacked the homards on the Oasis of Meskam,” added Labakan, apparently determined that the Great Sheikh should forget none of the allegations against me.
“The Ruler of the Desert hath no need of the promptings of a secret assassin,” I exclaimed, fiercely turning upon him.
“Silence, dog!” roared the Bedouin chieftain. “Add not to thy crimes by thus rebuking Allah’s chosen. By thy clever machinations hast thou learned our secrets and divested us of our power. Thrice have the armed men of thy brethren, the Infidels, attacked and defeated us; thrice have we been compelled to flee from those who have plotted to conquer the True Believers, and all owing to thy crafty theft of the unseen power that once was ours. While thou livest, thou bearest upon thee influence to work our destruction wheresoever we go, but when thou hast been consigned to the darkness of Hâwiyat, then will power and success return unto our people. Ere to-morrow’s sun hath set, thou shalt be a corpse, for Allah is swift in punishing.”
“He, the One to be praised, is also gracious and merciful,” I added. “Dost thou, who hast performed thy sujdah within the Harem of Al-Medinah, forget thy Korân?” I asked reproachfully.
“Mention not our Faith with thy polluted lips!” he cried, adding, ”‘The Infidels are smitten with vileness wheresoever they are found.’”
These words of the Prophet, with which he endeavoured to crush my argument, gave the utmost satisfaction to the men about me, who murmured approbation in an undertone, and nodded their heads expressive of admiration at the wisdom of their sinister-faced, tyrannical chief.
“For many moons have I dwelt within thy land, O mighty Sultan of the Sahara,” I said. “Though I have ever acted with honour towards thy people of Al-Islâm, yet I am far spent with travel, and clothed with calamity as with a garment. Why seekest thou my death?”
“Have I not already told thee? Thou hast filched from us the wondrous secret power by which we vanquished our enemies; the unseen force that hath enabled us to rule the Desert. While thou remainest alive, of a surety ruin and extinction threaten us.”
“But I am, alas! ignorant of thy strange allegation,” I said, earnestly endeavouring to get the angry Arab to speak more calmly. “By what means have I taken from thee this extraordinary influence that once was thine? Tell me, for a slave may not be condemned for an unknown crime.”
“Thou knowest well,” he answered distinctly, with loud emphasis and glittering eye, placing one hand upon the hilt of his jewelled jambiyah, and standing erect with regal air. “It is useless for thee to deny deeds which have worked our defeat, and actions that must ere long be the cause of our downfall.”
“I deny nothing, O mighty Sheikh of the Ennitra,” I protested. “Years ago, thy valiant race filled me with admiration, and because of that, I learned to speak thy tongue, and read the commands of the Prophet. Times without number have I been the willing servant of thy people of Al-Islâm; nay, even to-day have I brought hither under my protection a fair woman of thy tribe, whom I assisted to escape from a harem in the land of thine enemies.”
“A woman?” he exclaimed, with an expression of surprise, and, turning to his attendants, asked, “Who is she?”
“She is named Halima, O Master,” answered Labakan. “To me hath she explained that the Infidel intended to convey her to his own land, and only by a ruse did she succeed in getting to our camp. He carried her off from the harem of the Sheikh of the Kel-Fadê, in order to possess her himself.”
“Miserable parasites!” ejaculated Hadj Absalam angrily, on hearing the mention of the hostile tribe, “May their vitals be devoured by insects, and may their bodies be given unto the wild beasts! Did the chief of these locusts of the sands hold our kinswoman in bondage?”
“Yes,” I answered. “We escaped from the palace of the Sheikh together.”
“Behold, O Master!” said the bandit who had attempted to kill me. “He admits that they journeyed in company. He tried by force to cause her to fly with him across the Atlas and beyond the sea, unto the land of the Infidels.”
“It’s a lie!” I shouted warmly. “Bring her hither, and let her, O Sheikh, relate unto thee her story.”
“Already she hath told it,” the old chieftain replied. “Already thou art proved to be no respecter of our women, for thine eyes have defiled their unveiled faces, and by thy speeches hast thou caused them to forget the commands of the Prophet, and look upon thee, a white-faced son of offal, with favour.”
“My acquaintance with any woman of thy race will not preclude her from drinking of the fountain of Salsabil,” (a spring in Paradise), I answered defiantly.
“Thou wilt deny next that thou hast ever spoken with our beauteous Daughter of the Sun!” exclaimed the irate Despot of the Desert, who, as he uttered Zoraida’s name, bowed low in reverence, an example imitated by all his followers.
“I deny not my actions, neither shall I attempt to refute the allegations made against me by a murderer,” I answered.
My captors laughed jeeringly. I knew by their manner that they were determined that I should die, and I expected no mercy. Yet, despite an inward feeling of despair, I determined to show a bold front. I had been betrayed; but they should not see that I feared them.
“Secretly hast thou entered her private apartment, and remained there alone with her. To thee, son of Malec (the principal angel who has charge of hell), she hath disclosed our secrets — secrets which thou now holdest; hence, thou art the one Infidel in the world who possessest power to work evil upon us.”
“Whatever secrets I may have learned I have not used,” I protested firmly. “With me a secret remaineth always a secret.”
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