ching lips and forehead and breast, speaking with slow, leisurely,
voices, were two Arab sheikhs from the far Soudan. One of these showed
a singular interest in the movements of Nahoum Pasha as he entered the
chamber, and an even greater interest in David when he was announced;
but as David, in his journey up the chamber, must pass near him, he
drew behind a little group of officials, who whispered to each other
excitedly as David came on. More than once before this same Sheikh
Abdullah had seen David, and once they had met, and had made a treaty of
amity, and Abdullah had agreed to deal in slaves no more; and yet within
three months had sent to Cairo two hundred of the best that could be
found between Khartoum and Senaar. His business, of which Ebn Ezra Bey
had due knowledge, had now been with Nahoum. The business of the other
Arab, a noble-looking and wiry Bedouin from the South, had been with Ebn
Ezra Bey, and each hid his business from his friend. Abdullah murmured
to himself as David passed--a murmur of admiration and astonishment. He
had heard of the disfavour in which the Inglesi was; but, as he looked
at David's face with its quiet smile, the influence which he felt in the
desert long ago came over him again.

"By Allah," he said aloud abstractedly, "it is a face that will not hide
when the khamsin blows! Who shall gainsay it? If he were not an infidel
he would be a Mahdi."

To this his Bedouin friend replied: "As the depths of the pool at Ghebel
Farik, so are his eyes. You shall dip deep and you shall not find the
bottom. Bismillah, I would fight Kaid's Nubians, but not this infidel
pasha!"

Never had David appeared to such advantage. The victory over himself the
night before, the message of hope that had reached him at the monastery
in the desert, the coming of Lacey, had given him a certain quiet
masterfulness not reassuring to his foes.

As he entered the chamber but now, there flashed into his mind the
scene six years ago when, an absolute stranger, he had stepped into this
Eastern salon, and had heard his name called out to the great throng:
"Claridge efendi!"

He addressed no one, but he bowed to the group of foreign
consuls-general, looking them steadily in the eyes. He knew their
devices and what had been going on of late, he was aware that his fall
would mean a blow to British prestige, and the calmness of his gaze
expressed a fortitude which had a disconcerting effect upon the group.
The British