“The prince made no reply. All were silent; Mahboob kept his eyes steadily fixed on the fireplace; ’Abd-el-Lateef looked much and said nothing.
“‘Bring coffee,’ called out Abdallah to the servants. Before a minute had elapsed, a black slave approached with one, and only one, coffee-cup in his hand. At a second sign from his master he came before me and presented it.
“Of course the worst might be conjectured of so unusual and solitary a draught. But I thought it highly improbable that matters should have been so accurately prepared; besides, his main cause of anger was precisely the refusal of poisons, a fact which implied that he had none by him ready for use. So I said ‘Bismillah,’ took the cup, looked very hard at Abdallah, drank it off, and then said to the slave, ‘Pour me out a second.’ This he did; I swallowed it, and said, ‘Now you may take the cup away.’
“The desired effect was fully attained. Abdallah’s face announced defeat, while the rest of the assembly whispered together. The prince turned to ’Abd-el-Lateef and began talking about the dangers to which the land was exposed from spies, and the wicked designs of infidels for ruining the kingdom of the Muslims. The Kadee and his companions chimed in, and the story of a pseudo-Darweesh traveller killed at Derey’eeyah, and of another (but who he was I cannot fancy; perhaps a Persian, who had, said Abdallah, been also recognized for an intriguer, but had escaped to Muscat, and thus baffled the penalty due to his crimes), were now brought forward and commented on. Mahboob now at last spoke, but it was to ridicule such apprehensions. ‘The thing is in itself unlikely,’ said he, ‘and were it so, what harm could they do?’ alluding to my companion and myself.
“On this I took up the word, and a general conversation ensued, in which I did my best to explode the idea of spies and spymanship, appealed to our own quiet and inoffensive conduct, got into a virtuous indignation against such a requital of evil for good after all the services which we had rendered court and town, and quoted verses of the Koran regarding the wickedness of ungrounded suspicion, and the obligation of not judging ill without clear evidence. Abdallah made no direct answer, and the others, whatever they may have thought, could not support a charge abandoned by their master.
“What amused me not a little was that the Wahabee prince had after all very nearly hit the right nail on the head, and that I was snubbing him only for having guessed too well. But there was no help for it, and I had the pleasure of seeing that, though at heart unchanged in his opinion about us, he was yet sufficiently cowed to render a respite certain, and our escape thereby practicable.
“This kind of talk continued a while, and I purposely kept my seat, to show the unconcern of innocence, till Mahboob made me a sign that I might safely retire. On this I took leave of Abdallah and quitted the palace unaccompanied. It was now near midnight, not a light to be seen in the houses, not a sound to be heard in the streets; the sky too was dark and overcast, till, for the first time, a feeling of lonely dread came over me, and I confess that more than once I turned my head to look and see if no one was following with ‘evil,’ as Arabs say, in his hand. But there was none, and I reached the quiet alley and low door where a gleam through the chinks announced the anxious watch of my companions, who now opened the entrance, overjoyed at seeing me back sound and safe from so critical a parley.
“Our plan for the future was soon formed. A day or two we were yet to remain in Ri’ad, lest haste should seem to imply fear, and thereby encourage pursuit. But during that period we would avoid the palace, out-walks in gardens or after nightfall, and keep at home as much as possible. Meanwhile Aboo-’Eysa was to get his dromedaries ready, and put them in a courtyard immediately adjoining the house, to be laden at a moment’s notice.
“A band of travellers was to leave Ri’ad for Hasa a few days later. Aboo-’Eysa gave out publicly that he would accompany them to Hofhoof, while we were supposed to intend following the northern or Sedeyr track, by which the Na’ib, after many reciprocal farewells and assurances of lasting friendship, should we ever meet again, had lately departed. Mobeyreek, a black servant in Aboo-’Eysa’s pay, occupied himself diligently in feeding up the camels for their long march with clover and vetches, both abundant here; and we continued our medical avocations, but quietly, and without much leaving the house.
“During the afternoon of the 24th we brought three of Aboo-’Eysa’s camels into our courtyard, shut the outer door, packed, and laded. We then awaited the moment of evening prayer; it came, and the voice of the Mu’eddineen summoned all good Wahabees, the men of the town-guard not excepted, to the different mosques. When about ten minutes had gone by, and all might be supposed at their prayers, we opened our door. Mobeyreek gave a glance up and down the street to ascertain that no one was in sight, and we led out the camels. Aboo-’Eysa accompanied us. Avoiding the larger thoroughfares, we took our way by by-lanes and side-passages toward a small town-gate, the nearest to our house, and opening on the north. A late comer fell in with us on his way to the Mesjid, and as he passed summoned us also to the public service. But Aboo-’Eysa unhesitatingly replied, ‘We have this moment come from prayers,’ and our interlocutor, fearing to be himself too late and thus to fall under reprehension and punishment, rushed off to the nearest oratory, leaving the road clear. Nobody was in watch at the gate. We crossed its threshold, turned southeast, and under the rapid twilight reached a range of small hillocks, behind which we sheltered ourselves till the stars came out, and the ‘wing of night,’ to quote Arab poets, spread black over town and country.