"You had better have gone yourself, and left Mahommed Selim your camels
and your daughter," continued Dicky, his eyes straight upon Wassef's.

"God knows your meaning," said Wassef in a sudden fright; for the
Englishman's tongue was straight, as he well knew.

"They sneer at you behind your back, Mahommed Wassef. No man in the
village dare tell you, for you have no friends, but I tell you, that you
may save Soada before it is too late. Mahommed Selim lives; or lived
last quarter of the moon, so says Yusef the ghaffir. Sell your ten-
months' camel, buy the lad out, and bring him back to Soada."

"Saadat!" said Wassef, in a quick fear, and dropped the stem of the
narghileh, and got to his feet. "Saadat el basha!"

"Before the Nile falls and you may plant yonder field with onions,"
answered Dicky, jerking his head towards the flooded valley, "her time
will be come!"

Wassef's lips were drawn, like shrivelled parchment over his red gums,
the fingers of his right hand fumbled in his robe.

"There's no one to kill--keep quiet!" said Dicky, But Wassef saw near by
the faces of the villagers, and on every face he thought he read a smile,
a sneer; though in truth none sneered, for they were afraid of his
terrible anger. Mad with fury he snatched the turban from his head and
threw it on the ground. Then suddenly he gave one cry, "Allah!" a
vibrant clack like a pistol-shot, for he saw Yusef, the drunken ghaffir,
coming down the road.