The hadji nodded; that was what he wanted to know—whether or not Ali died a good Mahommedan.
"On what day did he die, tûan?"
I could not remember what day it was, but I knew what the old man hoped and I answered, "Friday."
That meant that Ali was certain of Paradise.
I said good-by to the hadji and went back to Singapore to catch my boat. The fever was still racking my body, but, when I saw the Red Sea behind us once more, I knew that luck had been with me.