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All at once the Arab spoke, in slow, grave tones. "Your God is not my God, Master," said he, impersonally. "No, the God of your people is not the God of mine. We have our own; and the land is ours, too. None of the Nasara may come thither, and live. Three came, that I have heard of, and they died. I crave my Master's bidding to depart." "Presently, yea," the Master answered.
Bohannan shuddered, as he glanced from one to another, then up at some of the approaching men of the expedition. Rrisa affirmed that Mohammed was indeed the prophet of Allah, and that the ways of the Nasara were most strange. "Good!" exclaimed the Master, with his first word of approval. Even his aplomb was a little shaken by the complete success of the attack. "It's all working like a clock."
"It is my will that thou speak to me and declare this thing, Rrisa," said he, decisively. "Say, thou, hath no man of the Nasara faith ever penetrated as far as to the place of thy birth?" But three did reach an oasis not far to westward of it, fifty years ago, or maybe fifty-one." "Ah, so?" exclaimed the Master, a touch of eagerness in his grave, impassive voice. "Who were they?"
But, tell me, thou, is it true that in thy country the folk slay all Nasara they lay hands on, by cutting with a sharp knife? Cutting the stomach, so?" He made an illustrative gesture. "Since you do force me to speak, against my will, M'almé you being of the Nasara blood I will declare the truth. Yea, that is so." "A pleasant custom, surely! And why always in the stomach?
It burned coppery, with a flush of hot blood under that dark skin. By the clear white light in the cabin, the Master closely observed him. Idly he broke off a leaf of the khat, and nibbled at it. "Is that the truth?" he inquired, pitilessly. "I must speak truth to you, Master," confessed the Arab, with bitter shame. "Two of the Feringi Nasara men like yourself have indeed touched and kissed it.
In the towns there was a certain amount of formal fanaticism which found vent in donkey-drivers addressing their beasts as "Nasara" to the accompaniment of whacks and yells, but public behaviour was tolerant enough, and the attitude of Moorish officialdom was almost courtly.
Such, though they come from China, India, or the farther islands of the Indian Ocean, may enter freely." "Of course. But I am speaking now of men of the Nasara faith. How of them? Tell me, thou!" "You are of the Nasara, M'almé! Do not make me answer this! You, having saved my life, own that life. It is yours. Ana bermil illi bedakea! My head is at your feet.
"My head is at your feet, M'almé, and I am yours to do with as you will, even to the death, but I implore you, by the beard of the Prophet, do not do this thing!" "And why not, Rrisa?" "You and I, Master, are akhawat. Therefore I can speak true words. You must not go to Mecca. No man of the Nasara may go there and live."
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