Drip-tap, drip-tap, drip-tap!
He opened his eyes slowly, slid one leg out of bed, and groped for his slippers. He slipped into the silken dressing-gown which had been flung over the end of the bed, corded it about him, and switched on the electric light. Then he passed out into the big common room, with its chairs drawn together in overnight comradeship, and the solemn tick of the big clock to emphasize the desolation. He paused a second to switch on the lights, then went to the door and flung it open.
"Enter!" he said in Arabic.
The man who came in was naked, save for a tarboosh on his head and a loin-cloth about his middle. His slim body shone with moisture, and where he stood on the white matting were two little pools. Kano from his brown feet to the soaked fez, he stood erect with that curious assumption of pride and equality which the Mussulman bears with less offence to his superiors than any other race.
"Peace on this house," he said, raising his hand.
"Speak, Ahmet," said Sanders, dropping into a big chair and stretching back, with his clasped hands behind his head. He eyed the man gravely and without resentment, for no spy would tap upon his window at night save that the business was a bad one.
"Lord," said the man, "it is shameful that I should wake your lordship from your beautiful dream, but I came with the river."[7] He looked down at his master, and in the way of certain Kano people, who are dialecticians to a man, he asked: "Lord, it is written in the Sura of Ya-Sin, 'To the sun it is not given to overtake the moon——'"
"'Nor doth the night outstrip the day; but each in his own sphere doth journey on,'" finished Sanders patiently. "Thus also begins the Sura of the Cave: 'Praise be to God, Who hath sent down the book to his servant, and hath put no crookedness into it.' Therefore, Ahmet, be plain to me, and leave your good speeches till you meet the abominable Sufi."
The man sank to his haunches. "Lord," he said, "from the bend of the river, where the Isisi divides the land of the N'gombi from the lands of the Good Chief, I came, travelling by day and night with the river, for many strange things have happened which are too wonderful for me. This Chief Busesi, whom all men call good, has a daughter by his second wife. In the year of the High Crops she was given to a stranger from the forest, him they call Gufuri-Bululu, and he took her away to live in his hut."
Sanders sat up. "Go on, man," he said.