THEN days had elapsed since the capture of Tancred; Amalek and his Arabs were still encamped in the rocky city; the beams of the early sun were just rising over the crest of the amphitheatre, when four horsemen, who were recognised as the children of Rechab, issued from the ravine. They galloped over the plain, shouted, and threw their lances in the air. From the crescent of black tents came forth the warriors, some mounted their horses and met their returning brethren, others prepared their welcome. The horses neighed, the camels stirred their long necks. All living things seemed conscious that an event had occurred.

The four horsemen were surrounded by their brethren; but one of them, giving and returning blessings, darted forward to the pavilion of the great Sheikh.

‘Have you brought camels, Shedad, son of Amroo?’ inquired one of the welcomers to the welcomed.

‘We have been to El Khuds,’ was the reply. ‘What we have brought back is a seal of Solomon.

‘From Mount Seir to the City of the Friend, what have you seen in the joyful land?’

‘We found the sons of Hamar by the well-side of Jumda; we found the marks of many camels in the pass of Gharendel, and the marks in the pass of Gharendel were not the marks of the camels of the Beni–Hamar.’

‘I had a dream, and the children of Tora said to me, “Who art thou in the hands of our father’s flocks? Are none but the sons of Rechab to drink the sweet waters of Edom?” Methinks the marks in the pass of Gharendel were the marks of the camels of the children of Tora.’

‘There is a feud between the Beni–Tora and the Beni–Hamar,’ replied the other Arab, shaking his head. ‘The Beni–Tora are in the wilderness of Akiba, and the Beni–Hamar have burnt their tents and captured their camels and their women. This is why the sons of Hamar are watering their flocks by the well of Jumda.’

In the meantime, the caravan, of which the four horsemen were the advanced guard, issued from the pass into the plain.

‘Shedad, son of Amroo,’ exclaimed one of the Bedouins, ‘what! have you captured an harem?’ For he beheld dromedaries and veiled women.

The great Sheikh came forth from his pavilion and sniffed the morning air; a dignified smile played over his benignant features, and once he smoothed his venerable beard.

‘My son-in-law is a true son of Israel,’ he murmured complacently to himself. ‘He will trust his gold only to his own blood.’

The caravan wound about the plain, then crossed the stream at the accustomed ford, and approached the amphitheatre.

The horsemen halted, some dismounted, the dromedaries knelt down, Baroni assisted one of the riders from her seat; the great Sheikh advanced and said, ‘Welcome in the name of God! welcome with a thousand blessings!’

‘I come in the name of God; I come with a thousand blessings,’ replied the lady.

‘And with a thousand something else,’ thought Amalek to himself; but the Arabs are so polished that they never make unnecessary allusions to business.

‘Had I thought the Queen of Sheba was going to pay me a visit,’ said the great Sheikh, ‘I would have brought the pavilion of Miriam. How is the Rose of Sharon?’ he continued, as he ushered Eva into his tent. ‘How is the son of my heart; how is Besso, more generous than a thousand kings?’

‘Speak not of the son of thy heart,’ said Eva, seating herself on the divan. ‘Speak not of Besso, the generous and the good, for his head is strewn with ashes, and his mouth is full of sand.’

‘What is this?’ thought Amalek. ‘Besso is not ill, or his daughter would not be here. This arrow flies not straight. Does he want to scrape my piastres? These sons of Israel that dwell in cities will mix their pens with our spears. I will be obstinate as an Azafeer camel.’

Slaves now entered, bringing coffee and bread, the Sheikh asking questions as they ate, as to the time Eva quitted Jerusalem, her halting-places in the desert, whether she had met with any tribes; then he offered to his granddaughter his own chibouque, which she took with ceremony, and instantly returned, while they brought her aromatic nargileh.

Eva scanned the imperturbable countenance of her grandfather: calm, polite, benignant, she knew the great Sheikh too well to suppose for a moment that its superficial expression was any indication of his innermost purpose. Suddenly she said, in a somewhat careless tone, ‘And why is the Lord of the Syrian pastures in this wilderness, that has been so long accursed?’

The great Sheikh took his pipe from his mouth, and then slowly sent forth its smoke through his nostrils, a feat of which he was proud. Then he placidly replied: ‘For the same reason that the man named Baroni made a visit to El Khuds.’

‘The man named Baroni came to demand succour for his lord, who is your prisoner.’

‘And also to obtain two millions of piastres,’ added Amalek.

‘Two millions of piastres! Why not at once ask for the throne of Solomon?’

‘Which would be given, if required,’ rejoined Amalek. ‘Was it not said in the divan of Besso, that if this Prince of Franguestan wished to rebuild the Temple, the treasure would not be wanting?’

‘Said by some city gossip,’ said Eva, scornfully.

‘Said by your father, daughter of Besso, who, though he lives in cities, is not a man who will say that almonds are pearls.’

Eva controlled her countenance, though it was difficult to conceal her mortification as she perceived how well informed her grandfather was of all that passed under their roof, and of the resources of his prisoner. It was necessary, after the last remark of the great Sheikh, to take new ground, and, instead of dwelling, as she was about to do, on the exaggeration of public report, and attempting to ridicule the vast expectations of her host, she said, in a soft tone, ‘You did not ask me why Besso was in such affliction, father of my mother?’

‘There are many sorrows: has he lost ships? If a man is in sound health, all the rest are dreams. And Besso needs no hakeem, or you would not be here, my Rose of Sharon.’

‘The light may have become darkness in our eyes, though we may still eat and drink,’ said Eva. ‘And that has happened to Besso which might have turned a child’s hair grey in its cradle.’

‘Who has poisoned his well? Has he quarrelled with the Porte?’ said the Sheikh, without looking at her.

‘It is not his enemies who have pierced him in the back.’

‘Humph,’ said the great Sheikh.

‘And that makes his heart more heavy,’ said Eva.

‘He dwells too much in walls,’ said the great Sheikh. ‘He should have ridden into the desert, instead of you, my child. He should have brought the ransom himself; ‘and the great Sheikh sent two curling streams out of his nostrils.

‘Whoever be the bearer, he is the payer,’ said Eva. ‘It is he who is the prisoner, not this son of Franguestan, who, you think, is your captive.’

‘Your father wishes to scrape my piastres,’ said the great Sheikh, in a stern voice, and looking his granddaughter full in the face.

‘If he wanted to scrape piastres from the desert,’ said Eva, in a sweet but mournful voice, ‘would Besso have given you the convoy of the Hadj without condition or abatement?’

The great Sheikh drew a long breath from his chibouque. After a momentary pause, he said, ‘In a family there should ever be unity and concord; above all things, words should not be dark. How much will the Queen of the English give for her bro............