naboots that threatened him. "My friend here is American. He stands for
the United States in Egypt."

Abdalla had not moved a muscle during the disturbance, or during Dicky's
speech. He seemed but the impassive spectator, though his silence and
the look in his eyes were ominous. It would appear as though he waited
to see whether the Englishman and his friend could free themselves from
danger. If they could, then it was God's will; if they could not,
Malaish! Dicky understood. In this he read Abdalla like a parchment,
and though he had occasion to be resentful, he kept his nerves and his
tongue in an equable mood. He knew that Abdalla would speak now. The
Egyptian raised his hand.

"In the name of Allah the Compassionate, the Merciful, go your ways," he
said loudly. "It is as Donovan Pasha says, he stayed the hand of Ismail
for my sake. Noor-ala-Noor, the Light from the Light, saw into his
heart, and it was the honest heart of a fool. And these are the words of
the Koran, That the fool is one whom God has made His temple for a
season, thereafter withdrawing. None shall injure the temple. Were not
your hearts bitter against him, and when he spoke did ye not soften? He
hath no inheritance of Paradise, but God shall blot him out in His own
time. Bismillah! God cool his resting-place in that day. Donovan
Pasha's hand is for Egypt, not against her. We are brothers, though the
friendship of man is like the shade of the acacia. Yet while the
friendship lives, it lives. When God wills it to die, it dies. . . ."
He waved his hand towards the gateway, and came slowly down the steep
steps.

With a curious look in his eyes, Dicky watched the people go. Another
curious look displaced it and stayed, as Abdalla silently touched his