CHAPTER IX
AYLMER IS EXPLICIT
It seemed to Aylmer that the world into which he woke was one of stillness, of neutral tints, of intrinsic peace. There was a hint of sunshine diluted by the green hangings in front of the windows, but no more than a hint. There was a faint echo of the sound of falling water floating in with the light, but merely an echo. There was, in fact, but the slightest suggestion of life in his surroundings, and that came from the silently regular rise and fall of the bosom of the sleeping man who sat at his bedside. Aylmer blinked and stared in mild surprise, for the man was Daoud.
He moved restlessly under the sheets. Where was he? Into what unsought refuge had Fate flung him now?
His movement, slight as it was, aroused the Moor. With a little self-reproachful exclamation he stood up and leaned over the bed.
"Oh, Sidi!" he cried, "it rejoices my heart to read the light of understanding in your eyes."
Aylmer blinked again bewilderedly.
"Where am I and what do you here?" he asked.
"You are in Villa Eulalia, Sidi, and where should I be but in attendance on my lord?"