"I would not ask you to be my servant, but I would give you caravans that you may go and trade for yourself. There is wealth beyond your dreams in the enterprise. I have no children of my own, my mother is old, and she is all I have in the world to care for. If you will accept what I offer you, you shall, when Allah brings my work to a close, succeed me in my business. Say, shall it be so?"
George did not answer at once, and Naoum waited patiently for him to speak. The generosity of this man knew no bounds; his offer was princely, and George hardly knew what to say. He hated to refuse this thing, for Naoum's heart was evidently set upon it, and yet he could not accept. The peaceful life of a trader, or at least the peaceful life he imagined it to be, had no attraction for him, despite the wealth accruing to it, and yet how could he make this good man understand? Naoum was still awaiting his reply, and George felt that he must not delay in giving his answer; perhaps if he could gain time he might see his way to doing as his protector wished, although, at present, he did not see how. Stepping over to the good man, he wrung him by the hand.
"Naoum, you are all too good to me—you overwhelm me with your generosity. At present I cannot give you a definite answer, you must give me time to consider. You know, at heart I am a soldier, and I would that my life ran in that groove; therefore I must think carefully before I decide. You will not think me ungrateful, I'm sure, for you know me well. To-morrow evening I will see you again, and give you my answer."
"Be it so, my son," answered Naoum, indulgently. "It is well to think. May Allah guide your thoughts into the right course! Go, and sleep well!"
The two young men left Naoum's house and hurried back to the citadel; here Osterberg said good-night, and went back to his own quarters.
That night Helmar did not sleep much, over and over again he thought of Naoum's offer, but with each attempt he failed to come to any decision. Wealth was not his main object; that, of course, had its attraction, but he wished to live the life of his choice; he had started as a soldier, and he wished to remain one, so that wealth sank into insignificance in his thoughts. He could not decide. For the first time in his life he failed to make up his mind.
With daylight he awoke from the broken slumber that had, at last, overtaken him. Already Belbeis was awake, and preparing breakfast. George sprang up to assist him. During the meal Helmar was unusually silent. The doubts of over-night were still upon him, and made him irritable. Belbeis noticed these signs, and refrained wisely from breaking in on his thoughts.
After breakfast Helmar went for a stroll round the fortress; the place was alive with troops, all the work of the day was carried out at this early hour, so that, when the heat of the day came on, the soldiers could rest. He was nearing the officers' quarters when a sergeant came out and walked quickly towards him.
"Ah," he said, as he came up, "I was just coming to look for you. You are wanted at once at the office—you had better come with me now."
George followed his guide without demur, and was conducted to the orderly room. After a short wait, he was shown in. A colonel was seated at the table, dictating a letter to his clerk. When our hero appeared he ceased, and, turning to a pile of papers, selected one from among the rest.