't any use going on these special missions. We
Americans think a lot of ourselves. We want every land to do as we do;
and we want to make 'em do it. But a strong man here at the head, with
a sword in his hand, peace in his heart, who'd be just and poor--how can
you make officials honest when you take all you can get yourself--! But,
no, I guess it's no good. This is a rotten cotton show."

Lacey had talked so much, not because he was garrulous only, but because
the inquiry in David's eyes was an encouragement to talk. Whatever his
misfortunes in Mexico had been, his forty years sat lightly on him, and
his expansive temperament, his childlike sentimentality, gave him
an appearance of beaming, sophisticated youth. David was slowly
apprehending these things as he talked--subconsciously, as it were; for
he was seeing pictures of the things he himself had observed, through
the lens of another mind, as primitive in some regards as his own, but
influenced by different experiences.

"Say, you're the best listener I ever saw," added Lacey, with a laugh.

David held out his hand. "Thee sees things clearly," he answered.

Lacey grasped his hand.

At that moment an orderly advanced towards them. "He's after us--one of
the Palace cavalry," said Lacey.

"Effendi--Claridge Effendi! May his grave be not made till the
karadh-gatherers return," said the orderly to David.

"My name is Claridge," answered David.

"To the hotel, effendi, first, then to the Mokattam Hills after thee,
then here--from the Effendina, on whom be God's peace, this letter for
thee."

David took the letter. "I thank thee, friend," he said.

As he read it, Lacey said to the orderly in Arabic "How didst thou know
he was here?"

The orderly grinned wickedly.

"Always it is known what place the effendi honours. It is not dark where
he uncovers his face."

Lacey gave a low whistle.

"Say, you've got a pull in this show," he said, as David folded up the
letter and put it in his pocket.

"In Egypt, if the master smiles on you, the servant puts his nose in the
dust."

"The Prince Pasha bids me to dinner at the Palace to-night. I have no
clothes for such affairs. Yet--" His mind was asking itself if this was
a door opening, which he had no right to shut with his own hand. There
was no reason why he should not go; therefore there might be a
reason why he should go. It might be, it no doubt was, in the way of
facilitating his business. He dismissed the or