Soon a man came in, and walking over to Forder put his hand out and
shook his. He sat down by him and, talking very quietly so that the
others should not hear, said: "Who are you, and from where do you
come?"
"From Jerusalem," said Forder. "I am a Christian preacher."
"If you value your life," went on the stranger, "you will get out of
this as quickly as you can, or the men, who are a bad lot, will kill
you. I am a Druze[70] but I pretend to be a Moslem."
"What sort of a man is the Chief of Ithera?" asked Forder.
"Very kind," was the reply. So the friendly stranger went out. Forder
listened carefully to the talk.
"Let us cut his throat while he is asleep," said one man.
"No," said the Chief. "I will not have the blood of a Christian on my
house and town."
"Let us poison his supper," said another. But the Chief would not
agree.
"Drive him out into the desert to die of hunger and thirst," suggested
a third. "No," said the Chief, whose name was Khy-Khevan, "we will
leave him till the morning."
Forder was then called to share supper with the others, and afterwards
the Chief led him out to the palm gardens, so that his evil influence
should not make the beasts ill; half an hour later, fearing he would
spoil the date-harvest by his presence, the Chief led him to a filthy
tent where an old man lay with a disease so horrible that they had
thrust him out of the village to die.
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