shone wildly. Hardly had he seated himself when he broke the custom of
momentary grave silence by blurting forth:

"Furthermore, howadji, I am the bearer of gladly tidings which will make
you to beshout yourself aloud for joyfulness and leap about and
besclaim: 'Pretty fair!' and other words of a grand rapture. For the
bird will sing gleesome dirges in your heart!"

"Well?" queried Kirby in no especial excitement. "I'm listening. But if
the news is really so wonderful you surely took your time in bringing
it. I've been here all evening, while you've stayed below there, trying
to increase those fellaheens' stock of ignorance. What's the idea?"

"Oh, I prythee you, do not let my awayness beget your goat, howadji!"
pleaded Najib, ever sensitive to any hint of reproof from his master.
"It was that which made the grand tidings. If I had not of been where I
have been this evening--and doing what I have done--there would not be
any tidings at all. I made the tidings myself. Both of them. And I made
them for _you._ Is it that I may now tell them to you, howadji?"

"Go ahead," adjured Kirby, humouring the wistful eagerness of the man.
"What's the news you have for me?"

"It is more than just a 'news,' howadji," corrected Najib with jealous
regard for shades of meaning. "It is a tidings. And it is this: You and
my poor self and the fellaheen and even those hell-selected pashalik
soldiers--we are all to be rich. Most especially _you,_ howadji.
Wealthiness bewaits us all. No longer shall any of us be downward and
outward from povertude. No more shall any of us toil early and
belatedly. We shall all live in easiness of hours and with much payment.