Page 277 - A Knight of the White Cross
P. 277

He was first taken to a bathroom, furnished with an abundance of hot and
               cold water. Muley uttered an exclamation as, on Gervaise throwing off his

               bernouse, he saw that his flesh was a mass of bruises. After filling the bath
               with hot water, he motioned to Gervaise to get in, and lie there until he

               returned. It was some time before he came back, bringing a pot of ointment
               and some bandages. It was only on the body that the wounds needed
               dressing, for here the blows had fallen on the naked skin. When he had

               dressed them, Muley went out and returned with some Turkish garments,
               consisting of a pair of baggy trousers of yellow cotton, a white shirt of the

                same material, and a sleeveless jacket of blue cloth embroidered with
               yellow trimming; a pair of yellow slippers completed the costume. Muley
               now took him into another room, where he set before him a dish of rice

               with a meat gravy, a large piece of bread, and a wooden spoon.



               Gervaise ate the food with a deep feeling of thankfulness for the fate that
               had thrown him into such good hands. Then, after taking a long draught of
               water, he rose to his feet and followed Muley into the entrance hall. The

               latter stopped at a door on the opposite side, knocked at it, and then
               motioned to Gervaise to take off his slippers. The door was opened by the

               Arab himself.


                "Enter," he said courteously, and led Gervaise into an apartment where a

               lady and two girls were sitting on a divan. They were slightly veiled; but, as
               Gervaise afterwards learnt, Ben Ibyn was not a Moor, but a Berber, a

               people who do not keep their women in close confinement as do the Moors,
               but allow them to go abroad freely without being entirely muffled up.



                "Khadja," the merchant said, "this is the Christian slave I purchased today.
               You have for a long time desired one, but not until now have I found one

               who would, I thought, satisfy your expectations. What think you of him?"


                "He is a noble looking youth truly, Isaac, with his fair, wavy hair, his grey

               eyes, and white skin; truly, all my neighbours will envy me such a
               possession. I have often seen Christian slaves before, but they have always

               been broken down and dejected looking creatures; this one bears himself
               like a warrior rather than a slave."
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