As David entered, he passed Sharif Bey, and something in the look on
the Arab physician's face--a secret malignancy and triumph--struck him
strangely. And now a fresh anxiety and apprehension rose in his mind as
he glanced at Kaid. The eye was heavy and gloomy, the face was clouded,
the lips once so ready to smile at him were sullen and smileless now.
David stood still, waiting.

"I did not expect thee till to-morrow, Saadat," said Kaid moodily at
last.

"The business is urgent?" "Effendina," said David, with every nerve at
tension, yet with outward self-control, "I have to report--" He paused,
agitated; then, in a firm voice, he told of the disaster which had
befallen the cotton-mills and the steamer.

As David spoke, Kaid's face grew darker, his fingers fumbled vaguely with
the linen of the loose white robe he wore. When the tale was finished he
sat for a moment apparently stunned by the news, then he burst out
fiercely:

"Bismillah, am I to hear only black words to-day? Hast thou naught to
say but this--the fortune of Egypt burned to ashes!"

David held back the quick retort that came to his tongue.

"Half my fortune is in the ashes," he answered with dignity. "The rest
came from savings never made before by this Government. Is the work less
worthy in thy sight, Effendina, because it has been destroyed? Would thy
life be less great and useful because a blow took thee from behind?"