Aylmer's fingers clenched and unclenched upon the coverlet. How thoroughly, how absolutely, they had been bested! But the account was rolling up. Ultimate defeat? His mind never even considered it. He merely put another item in the mental ledger from which Landon's account would one day be presented, and paid, in full.
"Let not the Sidi imagine that we have sat inactive while these sons of unchaste mothers triumph. I myself snatched a hasty hour from your bedside to enter the town and set certain ones agog for news. The Sidi Van Arlen hath telegraphed to Spain; every Guardia Civile along the coast has knowledge of how a reward of a thousand pesetas may be gained. By favor of the captain of the French warship all other ships of the French marine within three hundred miles have been warned to challenge unvouched-for boats. How this is done I am unable to say, but so it is. Watch upon the seas is therefore being kept. Now steam is being raised upon the white yacht in the bay, that when news comes it may be followed without delay. Lastly, a special mission has been sent by favor of the Bashaw from town to town along the coast as far as Dar-el-Baida. Thus have we set a wide net. Yet it has holes in it, Sidi, and holes are what these jackals are ever quick to seek."
With a sudden movement, Aylmer sat up. A frown and a gesture of command warded back Daoud's outstretched hand.
"Art thou my servant?" he cried, and the Moor spread out his palms in alert assent.
"Of a surety, Sidi, but the dispenser of medicines—"
"What have I to do with medicines—I, a strong man with no more than a bruised skull? Give me my clothes!"
"But, Sidi—"
"My clothes, or return instantly to the gutter from which my favor yesterday lifted you!"
The Moor gave a fatalistic shrug.
"If Allah has written it that you are to die by the weapon of thine own obstinacy, oh, Sidi, He has written it. This is thy shirt."