the words after him. As they
salaamed David left them, and rode forward to the advancing forces.

Upon the roof of the palace Mahommed Hassan watched and waited, his eyes
scanning sharply the desert to the south, his ears strained to catch
that stir of life which his accustomed ears had so often detected in the
desert, when no footsteps, marching, or noises could be heard. Below,
now in the palace, now in the defences, his master, the Saadat,
planned for the last day's effort on the morrow, gave directions to the
officers, sent commands to Achmet Pasha, arranged for the disposition of
his forces, with as strange a band of adherents and subordinates as ever
men had--adventurers, to whom adventure in their own land had brought
no profit; members of that legion of the non-reputable, to whom Cairo
offered no home; Levantines, who had fled from that underground world
where every coin of reputation is falsely minted, refugees from the
storm of the world's disapproval. There were Greeks with Austrian
names; Armenians, speaking Italian as their native tongue; Italians of
astonishing military skill, whose services were no longer required by
their offended country; French Pizarros with a romantic outlook, even
in misery, intent to find new El Dorados; Englishmen, who had cheated
at cards and had left the Horse Guards for ever behind; Egyptian
intriguers, who had been banished for being less successful than greater
intriguers; but also a band of good gallant men of every nation.

Upon all these, during the siege, Mahommed Hassan had been a
self-appointed spy, and had indirectly added to that knowledge
which made David's decisive actions to circumvent intrigue and its
consequences seem almost supernatural. In his way Mahommed was a great
man. He knew that David would endure no spying, and it was creditable
to his subtlety and skill that he was able to warn his master, without
being himself suspected of getting information by dark means. On the
palace roof Mahommed was happy to-night. Tomorrow would be a great day,
and, since the Saadat was to control its destiny, what other end could
there be but happiness? Had not the Saadat always ridden over all that
had been in his way? Had not he, Mahommed, ever had plenty to eat and
drink, and money to send to Manfaloot to his father there, and to
bribe when bribing was needed? Truly, life was a boon! With a neboot of
dom-wood across his knees he sat in the still, moonlit night, peering
into