"It is a check," he said slowly, "but only a check. He is not going to win." His eyes grew suddenly clear and his lips grim. "I shall follow him to the end," he said.
The orderly moved forward and rearranged the coverlet. He looked significantly at a flush which had risen to Aylmer's cheek.
"It is better that Monsieur should not excite himself," he explained amiably. "Mademoiselle is here; matters are going well. Monsieur will convalesce all the quicker if he avoids emotion."
Aylmer pushed at the rearranged coverlet with a gesture of irritation. He drew himself into a sitting posture.
"Don't think that I have flung up the sponge!" he cried. "Before, before this weakness came over me I arranged for the future. Daoud has seen to that; he has put matters in train. Landon will be watched—if necessary, followed. And when I am up again—" he smiled savagely—"when I take the trail for the second time, he will pay in full, as I promised he should."
And his voice rang firm as he caught sight of the Moor silhouetted against the evening light at the tent door.
"That is so?" he demanded. "You have seen to this among your friends?"
Daoud came forward a couple of respectful paces.
"Be assured, Sidi," he said, "that this man will not move a yard but I shall have due knowledge of it, in time. He cannot leave North Africa, and I be ignorant of it. Our hands may lag, but they will grip him at the last."
Aylmer gave a little sigh of satisfaction and lay back. And his eyes rose to Van Arlen's half appealingly, half defiantly.