shook his
being--how far this act itself, inspiring him to a dangerous and immense
work in life, would sap the best that was in him, since it must remain
a secret crime, for which he could not openly atone. He asked himself as
he stood by the brazier, the bowab apathetically rolling cigarettes at
his feet, whether, in the flow of circumstance, the fact that he could
not make open restitution, or take punishment for his unlawful act,
would undermine the structure of his character. He was on the threshold
of his career: action had not yet begun; he was standing like a swimmer
on a high shore, looking into depths beneath which have never been
plumbed by mortal man, wondering what currents, what rocks, lay beneath
the surface of the blue. Would his strength, his knowledge, his skill,
be equal to the enterprise? Would he emerge safe and successful, or be
carried away by some strong undercurrent, be battered on unseen rocks?

He turned with a calm face to the door behind which sat the displaced
favourite of the Prince, his mind at rest, the trouble gone out of his
eyes.

"Uncle Benn! Uncle Benn!" he said to himself, with a warmth at his heart
as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Nahoum sat sipping coffee. A cigarette was between his fingers. He
touched his hand to his forehead and his breast as David closed the door
and hung his hat upon a nail. David's servant, Mahommed Hassan, whom
he had had since first he came to Egypt, was gliding from the room--a
large, square-shouldered fellow of over six feet, dressed in a plain
blue yelek, but on his head the green turban of one who had done a
pilgrimage to Mecca. Nahoum waved a hand after Mahommed and said:

"Whence came thy servant sadat?"

"He was my guide to Cairo. I picked him from the street."

Nahoum smiled. There was no malice in the smile, only, as it might seem,
a frank humour. "Ah, your Excellency used independent judgment. Thou art
a judge of men. But does it make any difference that the man is a thief
and a murderer--a murderer?"

David's eyes darkened, as they were wont to do when he was moved or
shocked.

"Shall one only deal, then, with those who have neither stolen nor
slain--is that the rule of the just in Egypt?"

Nahoum raised his eyes to the ceiling as though in amiable inquiry, and
began to finger a string of beads as a nun might tell her paternosters.
"If that were the rule," he answered, after a moment, "how should any
man be served in Egypt?