"Strange that they haven't been to see you."

"Wallah! Not strange at all."

"I see. They regard you as a man without authority, who might make
trouble and leave other men to face it, eh?"

"Who says I have no authority?"

"Well, if you could prove you have--"

"What then?" the man in bed demanded, trying to sit up. "Feisul, for
instance, is a friend of mine, and these men with me are his friends
too. You have no letter, of course, for that would be dangerous..."

"Jimgrim, in the name of the Most High, I swear I had a letter! He who
stabbed me took it. I--"

"Was the letter from Feisul?"

"Malaish--no matter. It was sealed, and bore a number for the
signature. If you can get that letter for me, Jimgrim--but what is the
use! You are a servant of the British."

"Tell me who stabbed you and I'll get you the letter."

"No, for you are clever. You would learn too much. Better tell the
doctor of this place to hurry up and heal me; then I will attend to my
own affairs."