The soldier who'd spoken and for whom The Jackal had stepped aside, evidently the commander of this patrol, spoke again and directed his words to Ali, "Where found you the _dalul_, dog?"
Ali answered, "I stole him from some Druse."
The soldier drew his dagger and spoke again, "Die you will, but choose whether you die swiftly or slowly. Why are you found in possession of the finest _dalul_ among two thousand such owned by the Pasha of Damascus?"
At that moment, out in the thicket, one of the camels being led by the dismounted Druse as they made their way among the trees and brush, chose to grunt. The eyes of every man except the officer turned toward the sound.
Ali said, "The Druse from whom I stole the _dalul_ are in close pursuit. They are twenty-three in all."
Except for the officer, who thoughtfully kept the point of his dagger pricking Ali's ribs, the Moslems scattered and, a few seconds later, it was as though they had never been.
The officer addressed Ali. "Bid the _dalul_ lie down."
Ali gave the order and Ben Akbar obeyed. Unconcerned as though there were no Druse within forty miles, but not forgetting to prick Ali's ribs with his dagger, the officer scorned even to glance in the direction from which the Druse approached. Ali wondered. Some Moslems yearned so ardently for the life to come that they set not the least value on the one they already had, but the officer seemed more practical-minded.
"The Druse number a score and three," Ali ventured finally. "They come from the direction where the camel grunted and they cannot fail to see you should you neglect to hide."
"I did not ask your opinion," the officer growled. "Be silent!"
Since the order was emphasized with a sudden jab of the dagger, Ali remained silent. He composed himself. This, as well as everything else, was now in the hands of Allah and He alone would determine the outcome. But it never harmed anything to ponder.
The rest of the Moslems and The Jackal had disappeared as suddenly and completely as morning dew when the sun turns hot. Though they could not be very far away, neither was the end of the thicket. Once out of the brush, Ali could mount Ben Akbar and ride. If the pursuit were resumed, and, regardless of who won the forthcoming battle, it would be, it must still be delayed while the fight was in progress. If Allah would only see fit to make the officer take the point of his dagger out of Ali's ribs and go wherever his men had gone, it would be worth Ali's while to try to break away.