ch other, their arms moving in restrained gestures. Bahassoen, his
head proudly thrown back, his ornaments, embroideries, and sword-hilt
flashing in the light, circled steadily round the fire like a planet
round the sun. A cool whiff of damp air came from the darkness of the
riverside; it made Abdulla and Babalatchi shiver, and woke them up from
their abstraction.

"Open the gate and go first," said Abdulla; "there is no danger?"

"On my life, no!" answered Babalatchi, lifting the rattan ring. "He is
all peace and content, like a thirsty man who has drunk water after many
days."

He swung the gate wide, made a few paces into the gloom of the
enclosure, and retraced his steps suddenly.

"He may be made useful in many ways," he whispered to Abdulla, who had
stopped short, seeing him come back.

"O Sin! O Temptation!" sighed out Abdulla, faintly. "Our refuge is with
the Most High. Can I feed this infidel for ever and for ever?" he added,
impatiently.

"No," breathed out Babalatchi. "No! Not for ever. Only while he serves
your designs, O Dispenser of Allah's gifts! When the time comes--and
your order . . ."

He sidled close to Abdulla, and brushed with a delicate touch the hand
that hung down listlessly, holding the prayer-beads.

"I am your slave and your offering," he murmured, in a distinct and
polite tone, into Abdulla's ear. "When your wisdom speaks, there may be
found a little poison that will not lie. Who knows?"

CHAPTER FOUR

Babalatchi saw Abdulla pass through the low and narrow entrance into the
darkness of Omar's hut; heard them exchange the usual greetings and
the distinguished visitor's grave voice asking: "There is no
misfortune--please God--but the sight?" and then, becoming aware of
the disapproving looks of the two Arabs who had accompanied Abdulla,
he followed their example and fell back out of earshot. He did it
unwillingly, although he did not ignore that what was going to happen
in there was now absolutely beyond his control. He roamed irresolutely
about for awhile, and at last wandered with careless steps towards the
fire, which had been moved, from under the tree, close to the hut and a
little to windward of its entrance. He squatted on his heels and began
playing pensively with live embers, as was his habit when engrossed in
thought, withdrawing his hand sharply and shaking it above his head when
he burnt his fingers in a fit of deeper abstraction. Sitting there
he could hear the