“Quite right,” said the doctor gravely.
“Then it is right and fit that he should travel with good tents and camels, and such things as suit his dignity.”
“But this will be travelling like an eastern prince,” said the doctor, who was beaming with satisfaction, after a refreshing sluice in some cool water.
“A learned Hakim such as his Excellency Landon assures me that you are, is greater than any eastern prince,” said the Sheikh, handing a fresh bath-towel; “and I have a petition to make to his Excellency.”
“A petition? What is it, Ibrahim?”
“I have a son here, Excellency; he is my youngest, and the light of my old eyes, but he is weak and sickly, and there are times when I feel that I am fighting against fate, and that it would be better that I should let him die in peace. But I love him, and I would have him live. Will the Hakim see the boy and say whether he is to live or die?”
“Yes. What is his ailment?”
“It was through a fall from a camel. A fierce old bull rushed at the young one he rode, and fell upon him and crushed him.”
“Ah, I see,” said the doctor. “That is in my way.”
“Then the learned Hakim will see the boy?”