take me that short
distance to the shore, but why you should accompany me to Dizful. There
I am at home. I am, more than any one else, emperor. And I need a man
like you. I am going to have a car, I am going to have a boat, I am
going to have a place in the sun. There will be many changes in that
country after the war. You will see. It is not so far, either, from
here. It is evident that your heart, like mine, is in this part of the
world. So come with me. Eh, Gaston?"

"Heart!" repeated Gaston, with a bitter smile. "It is you who speak of
the heart, and of---- But you do not speak of the little surprise with
which you might some day regale me, Mr. Enemy! Nor do you say what you
fear--that I might take it into my head to go fishing at Umm-un-Nakhl!"

"Ah bah!" exclaimed Magin impatiently. "However, you are right. I am not
like you. I do not betray my country for a little savage with a jewel in
her nose! It is because of that small difference between us, Gaston,
between your people and my people, that you will see such changes here
after the war. But you will not see them unless you accept my offer.
After all, what else can you do?" He left Gaston to take it in as he
twirled his metal cap. "There is the sun already," Magin added
presently. "We shall have a hot journey."

Gaston looked over his shoulder at the quivering rim of gold that surged
up behind the Bakhtiari mountains. How sharp and purple they were,
against what a deepening blue! On the bluff the white-clad peasant stood
with his back to the light, his hands folded in front of him, his head
bowed.

"You look tired, Gaston," said Magin pleasantly. "Will you have this
cigar?"

"No, thank you," replied Gaston. He felt in his own pockets, however,
first for a cigarette and then for a match. He was indeed tired, so
tired that he no longer remembered which pocket to fumble in or what he
held in his hand as he fumbled. Ah, that sacred tank! Then he suddenly
smiled again, looking at Magin. "There is something else I can do!"

"What?" asked Magin as he lay at ease in the stern, enjoying the first
perfume of his cigar. "You can't go back to France, now, and I should
hardly advise you to go back to Sheleilieh. At least until after the
war. Then there will be no more English there to ask you troublesome
questions!"

Gaston lighted his cigarette. And, keeping his eyes on Magin, he slowly
moved his hand, in which were both the nickel cap and the still-burning
match,