bound separately and led into a tent larger than
the others, where sat an elderly and finely dressed man, whose proud
bearing denoted him to be the chief of this tribe. The men who had
brought Said in approached the chief with a sad air and with bowed
heads. "The howling of the women has informed me of what has happened,"
said their majestic leader, looking from one to the other of his men;
"your manner confirms it--Almansor has fallen."
"Almansor has fallen," repeated the men, "but here, Selim, Ruler of the
Desert, is his murderer, and we bring him here that you may decide as
to the form of death that shall be inflicted on him. Shall we make a
target of him for our arrows? shall we force him to run the gauntlet of
our lances? or do you decree that he shall be hung or torn asunder by
horses?"
"Who are you?" asked Selim, looking darkly at the prisoner, who,
although doomed to death, stood before his captors with a courageous
air.
Said replied to his question briefly and frankly.
"Did you kill my son by stealth? Did you pierce him from behind with an
arrow or a lance?"
"No, Sire!" returned Said. "I killed him in an open fight, face to
face, while he was attacking our caravan, because he had killed eight
of my companions before my eyes."
"Does he speak the truth?" asked Selim of the men who had captured
Said.
"Yes, Sire, he killed Almansor in a fair fight," replied one of the
men.
"Then he has done no more and no less than we should have done in his
place," returned Selim; "he fought his enemy, who would have robbed him
of liberty and life, and killed him; therefore, loose his bonds at
once!"
The men looked at him in astonishment, and obeyed his order in a slow
and unwilling manner.
"And shall the murderer of your son, the brave Almansor, not die?"
asked one of them, casting a look of hate at Said. "Would that we had
disposed of him on the spot!"
"He shall not die!" exclaimed Selim. "I will take him into my own tent,
as my fair share of the booty, and he shall be my servant."
Said could find no words in which to express his thanks. The men left
the tent grumbling; and when they communicated Selim's decision to the
women and children, who were waiting outside, they were greeted by
terrible shrieks and lamentations, and threats were made that they
would avenge Almansor's death on his murderer themselves, because his
own father would not take vengeance.
The other captives were divided among th
|