They were Sharif's confederates, fanatics carefully chosen.

The attempt on Kaid's life should have been made opposite the spot where they stood.

They craned their necks in effort to find the Christian tent-maker, but in vain.
Suddenly they heard a cry, a loud voice calling.

It was Rahib the tent-maker.

He was beside Kaid's stirrups, but no weapon was in his hand; and his voice was calling blessings down on the Effendina's head for having pardoned and saved from death his one remaining son, the joy of his old age.