osier, to surround the village, destroy
the huts, behead the men, put them in sacks, and bring the rest of the
population, that is to say, the women and children, to Cairo.

Crosier executed the order punctually; all the women and children who
could be captured were brought to Cairo, and also with them one living
Arab, gagged and bound to his horse's back.

"Why is this man still alive?" asked Bonaparte. "I ordered you to behead
every man who was able to bear arms."

"General," said Crosier, who also possessed a smattering of Arabian
words, "just as I was about to order his head cut off, I understood him
to offer to exchange a prisoner for his life. I thought there would be
time enough to cut off his head, and so brought him with me. If I am
mistaken, the ceremony can take place here as well as there; what is
postponed is not abandoned."

The interpreter Ventura was summoned to question the Bedouin. He replied
that he had saved the life of a French officer who had been grievously
wounded at the Gate of Victory, and that this officer, who spoke a
little Arabic, claimed to be one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp.
He had sent him to his brother who was a physician in a neighboring
tribe, of which this officer was a captive; and if they would promise
to spare his life, he would write to his brother to send the prisoner to
Cairo.

Perhaps this was a tale invented to gain time, but it might also be
true; nothing was lost by waiting.

The Arab was placed in safe keeping, a scribe was brought to write at
his dictation. He sealed the letter with his own seal, and an Arab
from Cairo was despatched to negotiate the exchange. If the emissary
succeeded, it meant the Bedouin's life and five hundred piastres to the
messenger.

Three days later he returned bringing Roland. Bonaparte had hoped for
but had not dared to expect this return.

This heart of iron, which had seemed insensible to grief, was now melted
with joy. He opened his arms to Roland, as on the day when he had found
him, and two tears, two pearls--the tears of Bonaparte were rare--fell
from his eyes.

But Roland, strange as it may seem, was sombre in the midst of the joy
caused by his return. He confirmed the Arab's tale, insisted upon his
liberation, but refused all personal details about his capture by the
Bedouins and the treatment he had received at the hands of the doctor.
As for Sulkowsky, he had been killed and beheaded before his eyes, so it
was us