ed and dirty, wore a very beautiful knife, which
(though it reposed in a gaudy sheath of yellow, green and blue beads,
fringed with a dependent filigree, or lace work, of similar beads with
tassels of cowrie-shells) hailed from Damascus and had a handle of ivory
and gold, and an inlaid blade on which were inscribed verses from the
Q'ran.

Moussa Isa knew the pattern of it well by the close of day. The Leading
Gentleman took that evening to sharpening the already sharp blade of the
knife. As he sharpened it on his sandal and the side of the boat, and
tried its edge on his thumb, he regarded the thin body of Moussa Isa
very critically.

His look blended contempt, anticipation, and anxiety.

He broke a long brooding silence with the remark:--

"The little dog will be thinner still, to-morrow "--a remark which
evoked from the fair youth the reply: "And so will you".

Perhaps truth covered and excused a certain indelicacy and callousness
in the statement of the Leading Gentleman, albeit the fair young man
appeared annoyed at it. His British blood and instincts became
predominant when the killing and eating of a fellow-creature were on the
_tapis_--the said fellow-creature being on it at the same time.

A colleague from Dar-es-Salaam, who had an ear and a half, three teeth,
six fingers, innumerable pockmarks and a German accent, said, "He will
have little fat," and there was bitterness in his tone. As a business
man he realized a bad investment of capital. The food in which they had
wallowed should have gone to the fattening of Moussa Isa. Also a fear
struck him.

"He'll jump overboard in the night--the ungrateful dog. Tie him up," and
he reached for a coil of cord.

"He will not be tied up," observed the fair youth in a quiet, obstinate
voice.

"See, my friend," said the Leading Gentleman, "it is a case of one or
many. Better _that_ one," and he pointed to Moussa Isa, "than another,"
and he looked meaningly at the fair young man.

"And yet, I know not," murmured the venerable Arab, "I know not. We are
not in the debt of the slave. We _are_ in the debt of the Sheikh. It
would cancel all obligations if the Sheikh from the North preferred to
offer himself as--"

The young man's long knife flashed from its sheath as he sprang to his
feet. "Let us eat monkey, if eat we must," he cried, pointing to the
Arab--and, even as he spoke, the huge man with the scars, flinging his
great arms around the youth's ankles, partly