f white
men. Afterwards, when listening to the voice he loved, he hesitated.
He hesitated for many days--too many. I, knowing him well, made Omar
withdraw here with his . . . household. Then this red-faced man raged
for three days like a black panther that is hungry. And this evening,
this very evening, he came. I have him here. He is in the grasp of one
with a merciless heart. I have him here," ended Babalatchi, exultingly
tapping the upright of the gate with his hand.

"That is good," murmured Abdulla.

"And he shall guide your ship and lead in the fight--if fight there be,"
went on Babalatchi. "If there is any killing--let him be the slayer. You
should give him arms--a short gun that fires many times."

"Yes, by Allah!" assented Abdulla, with slow thoughtfulness.

"And you will have to open your hand, O First amongst the generous!"
continued Babalatchi. "You will have to satisfy the rapacity of a
white man, and also of one who is not a man, and therefore greedy of
ornaments."

"They shall be satisfied," said Abdulla; "but . . ." He hesitated,
looking down on the ground and stroking his beard, while Babalatchi
waited, anxious, with parted lips. After a short time he spoke again
jerkily in an indistinct whisper, so that Babalatchi had to turn his
head to catch the words. "Yes. But Omar is the son of my father's uncle
. . . and all belonging to him are of the Faith . . . while that man is
an unbeliever. It is most unseemly . . . very unseemly. He cannot live
under my shadow. Not that dog. Penitence! I take refuge with my God," he
mumbled rapidly. "How can he live under my eyes with that woman, who is
of the Faith? Scandal! O abomination!"

He finished with a rush and drew a long breath, then added dubiously--

"And when that man has done all we want, what is to be done with him?"

They stood close together, meditative and silent, their eyes roaming
idly over the courtyard. The big bonfire burned brightly, and a wavering
splash of light lay on the dark earth at their feet, while the lazy
smoke wreathed itself slowly in gleaming coils amongst the black boughs
of the trees. They could see Lakamba, who had returned to his place,
sitting hunched up spiritlessly on the cushions, and Sahamin, who had
got on his feet again and appeared to be talking to him with dignified
animation. Men in twos or threes came out of the shadows into the light,
strolling slowly, and passed again into the shadows, their faces turned
to ea