mb of
marble. Without looking at him she seemed to feel that with one movement
he could crush that nervous figure in which lived the breath of the
great desert haunted by his nomad, camel-riding ancestors.--"Power is
in the hand of God," he said, all animation dying out of his face, and
paused to wait for Lingard's "Very true," then continued with a fine
smile, "but He apportions it according to His will for His own purposes,
even to those that are not of the Faith."

"Such being the will of God you should harbour no bitterness against
them in your heart."

The low exclamation, "Against those!" and a slight dismissing gesture
of a meagre dark hand out of the folds of the cloak were almost
understandable to Mrs. Travers in the perfection of their melancholy
contempt, and gave Lingard a further insight into the character of
the ally secured to him by the diplomacy of Belarab. He was only half
reassured by this assumption of superior detachment. He trusted to the
man's self-interest more; for Daman no doubt looked to the reconquered
kingdom for the reward of dignity and ease. His father and grandfather
(the men of whom Jorgenson had written as having been hanged for an
example twelve years before) had been friends of Sultans, advisers of
Rulers, wealthy financiers of the great raiding expeditions of the
past. It was hatred that had turned Daman into a self-made outcast,
till Belarab's diplomacy had drawn him out from some obscure and uneasy
retreat.

In a few words Lingard assured Daman of the complete safety of his
followers as long as they themselves made no attempt to get possession
of the stranded yacht. Lingard understood very well that the capture of
Travers and d'Alcacer was the result of a sudden fear, a move directed
by Daman to secure his own safety. The sight of the stranded yacht shook
his confidence completely. It was as if the secrets of the place had
been betrayed. After all, it was perhaps a great folly to trust any
white man, no matter how much he seemed estranged from his own people.
Daman felt he might have been the victim of a plot. Lingard's brig
appeared to him a formidable engine of war. He did not know what to
think and the motive for getting hold of the two white men was really
the wish to secure hostages. Distrusting the fierce impulses of his
followers he had hastened to put them into Belarab's keeping. But
everything in the Settlement seemed to him suspicious: Belarab's
absence, Jorgenson's