Osman, a tall, skinny, whiteclad, elderly Moor, appears in the archway.
BRASSBOUND. Osman Ali (Osman comes forward between Brassbound and Johnson): you have seen this unbeliever (indicating Sir Howard)come in with us?
OSMAN. Yea, and the shameless one with the naked face, who flattered my countenance and offered me her hand.
JOHNSON. Yes; and you took it too, Johnny, didn't you?
BRASSBOUND. Take horse, then; and ride fast to your master the Sheikh Sidi el Assif OSMAN (proudly). Kinsman to the Prophet.
BRASSBOUND. Tell him what you have seen here. That is all.
Johnson: give him a dollar; and note the hour of his going, that his master may know how fast he rides.
OSMAN. The believer's word shall prevail with Allah and his servant Sidi el Assif.
BRASSBOUND. Off with you.
OSMAN. Make good thy master's word ere I go out from his presence, O Johnson el Hull.
JOHNSON. He wants the dollar.
Brassbound gives Osman a coin.
OSMAN (bowing). Allah will make hell easy for the friend of Sidi el Assif and his servant. (He goes out through the arch.)BRASSBOUND (to Johnson). Keep the men out of this until the Sheikh comes. I have business to talk over. When he does come, we must keep together all: Sidi el Assif's natural instinct will be to cut every Christian throat here.
JOHNSON. We look to you, Captain, to square him, since you invited him over.
BRASSBOUND. You can depend on me; and you know it, I think.
JOHNSON (phlegmatically). Yes: we know it. (He is going out when Sir Howard speaks.)SIR HOWARD. You know also, Mr. Johnson, I hope, that you can depend on ME.
JOHNSON (turning). On YOU, sir?
SIR HOWARD. Yes: on me. If my throat is cut, the Sultan of Morocco may send Sidi's head with a hundred thousand dollars blood-money to the Colonial Office; but it will not be enough to save his kingdom--any more than it would saw your life, if your Captain here did the same thing.
JOHNSON (struck). Is that so, Captain?
BRASSBOUND. I know the gentleman's value--better perhaps than he knows it himself. I shall not lose sight of it.
Johnson nods gravely, and is going out when Lady Cicely returns softly by the little door and calls to him in a whisper. She has taken off her travelling things and put on an apron. At her chatelaine is a case of sewing materials.
LADY CICELY. Mr. Johnson. (He turns.) I've got Marzo to sleep.
Would you mind asking the gentlemen not to make a noise under his window in the courtyard.
JOHNSON. Right, maam. (He goes out.)
Lady Cicely sits down at the tiny table, and begins stitching at a sling bandage for Marzo's arm. Brassbound walks up and down on her right, muttering to himself so ominously that Sir Howard quietly gets out of his way by crossing to the other side and sitting down on the second saddle seat.
SIR HOWARD. Are you yet able to attend to me for a moment, Captain Brassbound?
BRASSBOUND (still walking about). What do you want?
SIR HOWARD. Well, I am afraid I want a little privacy, and, if you will allow me to say so, a little civility. I am greatly obliged to you for bringing us safely off to-day when we were attacked. So far, you have carried out your contract. But since we have been your guests here, your tone and that of the worst of your men has changed--intentionally changed, I think.
BRASSBOUND (stopping abruptly and flinging the announcement at him). You are not my guest: you are my prisoner.
SIR HOWARD. Prisoner!
Lady Cicely, after a single glance up, continues stitching, apparently quite unconcerned.
BRASSBOUND. I warned you. You should have taken my warning.
SIR HOWARD (immediately taking the tone of cold disgust for moral delinquency). Am I to understand, then, that you are a brigand?
Is this a matter of ransom?
BRASSBOUND (with unaccountable intensity). All the wealth of England shall not ransom you.
SIR HOWARD. Then what do you expect to gain by this?
BRASSBOUND. Justice on a thief and a murderer.
Lady Cicely lays down her work and looks up anxiously.
SIR HOWARD (deeply outraged, rising with venerable dignity). Sir:
do you apply those terms to me?
BRASSBOUND. I do. (He turns to Lady Cicely, and adds, pointing contemptuously to Sir Howard) Look at him. You would not take this virtuously indignant gentleman for the uncle of a brigand, would you?
Sir Howard starts. The shock is too much for him: he sits down again, looking very old; and his hands tremble; but his eyes and mouth are intrepid, resolute, and angry.
LADY CICELY. Uncle! What do you mean?
BRASSBOUND. Has he never told you about my mother? this fellow who puts on ermine and scarlet and calls himself Justice.
SIR HOWARD (almost voiceless). You are the son of that woman!
BRASSBOUND (fiercely). "That woman!" (He makes a movement as if to rush at Sir Howard.)LADY CICELY (rising quickly and putting her hand on his arm).
Take care. You mustn't strike an old man.
BRASSBOUND (raging). He did not spare my mother--"that woman," he calls her--because of her ***. I will not spare him because of his age. (Lowering his tone to one of sullen vindictiveness) But I am not going to strike him. (Lady Cicely releases him, and sits down, much perplexed. Brassbound continues, with an evil glance at Sir Howard) I shall do no more than justice.
SIR HOWARD (recovering his voice and vigor). Justice! I think you mean vengeance, disguised as justice by your passions.
BRASSBOUND. To many and many a poor wretch in the dock YOU have brought vengeance in that disguise--the vengeance of society, disguised as justice by ITS passions. Now the justice you have outraged meets you disguised as vengeance. How do you like it?
SIR HOWARD. I shall meet it, I trust, as becomes an innocent man and an upright judge. What do you charge against me?
BRASSBOUND. I charge you with the death of my mother and the theft of my inheritance.
