"If thou knewest aught of medicine," answered El Hakim, "thou
wouldst be aware that physicians hold no counsel or debate in the
sick chamber of their patient. Hear," he added, as the low
growling of the staghound was heard from the inner hut, "even the
dog might teach thee reason, Ulemat. His instinct teaches him to
suppress his barking in the sick man's hearing. Come without the
tent," said he, rising and leading the way, "if thou hast ought
to say with me."

Notwithstanding the plainness of the Saracen leech's dress, and
his inferiority of size when contrasted with the tall prelate and
gigantic English baron, there was something striking in his
manner and countenance, which prevented the Bishop of Tyre from
expressing strongly the displeasure he felt at this unceremonious
rebuke. When without the hut, he gazed upon Adonbec in silence
for several minutes before he could fix on the best manner to
renew the conversation. No locks were seen under the high bonnet
of the Arabian, which hid also part of a brow that seemed lofty
and expanded, smooth, and free from wrinkles, as were his cheeks,
where they were seen under the shade of his long beard. We have
elsewhere noticed the piercing quality of his dark eyes.

The prelate, struck with his apparent youth, at length broke a
pause, which the other seemed in no haste to interrupt, by
demanding of the Arabian how old he was?

"The years of ordinary men," said the Saracen, "are counted by
their wrinkles; those of sages by their studies. I dare not call
myself older than a hundred revolutions of the Hegira." [Meaning