But he only shook his head.
"The salt--not yet, O White Sheik!" said he.
"We have brought thy people precious gifts," began the Master, again.
Behind him he heard an impatient whisper--the major's voice, quivering with eagerness: "Ask him if this place is really all gold! Faith, if I could only talk their lingo! Ask him!" "I shall place you under arrest, if you interfere again," the Master retorted, without turning round.
"What saith the White Sheik ?" asked Bara Miyan, hearing the strange words of a language his ears never before had listened to.
"Only prayer in my own tongue, Bara Miyan.

A prayer that thine and mine may become _akhawat_"[1] [Footnote 1: Friends bound by an oath to an offensive and defensive alliance.] "Deliver unto me Abd el Rahman, and let thine _imams_ (priests) work stronger magic than mine," said the old Sheik with great deliberation, "and I will accept thy gifts and we will say: '_Nahnu malihin_!' (We have eaten salt together!) And I will make thee gifts greater than thy gifts to me, O White Sheik.

Then thou and thine can fly away to thine own country, and bear witness that there be Arabs who do not love to slay the Feringi, but count all men as brethren.
"But if thou wilt not deliver Abd el Rahman to me, or test thy magic against my magic, then depart now, in peace, before the setting of the sun.

I have spoken!" "Take him at his word, my Captain!" murmured Leclair.

"We can get no better terms.