“The time had not come. Read, Effendina,” he added, handing some papers over.
“But it is the whole army!” said Kaid aghast, as he read. He was convinced.
“There is only one guilty,” returned Nahoum. Their eyes met. Oriental fatalism met inveterate Oriental distrust and then instinctively Kaid’s eyes turned to David. In the eyes of the Inglesi was a different thing. The test of the new relationship had come. Ferocity was in his heart, a vitriolic note was in his voice as he said to David, “If this be true—the army rotten, the officers disloyal, treachery under every tunic—bismillah, speak!”
“Shall it not be one thing at a time, Effendina?” asked David. He made a gesture towards Nahoum. Kaid motioned to a door. “Wait yonder,” he said darkly to Nahoum. As the door opened, and Nahoum disappeared leisurely and composedly, David caught a glimpse of a guard of armed Nubians in leopard-skins filed against the white wall of the other room.
“What is thy intention towards Nahoum, Effendina?” David asked presently.
Kaid’s voice was impatient. “Thou hast asked his life—take it; it is thine; but if I find him within these walls again until I give him leave, he shall go as Foorgat went.”
“What was the manner of Foorgat’s going?” asked David quietly.
“As a wind blows through a court-yard, and the lamp goes out, so he went—in the night. Who can say? Wherefore speculate? He is gone. It is enough. Were it not for thee, Egypt should see Nahoum no more.”
David sighed, and his eyes closed for an instant. “Effendina, Nahoum has proved his faith—is it not so?” He pointed to the documents in Kaid’s hands.
A grim smile passed over Kaid’s face. Distrust of humanity, incredulity, cold cynicism, were in it. “Wheels within wheels, proofs within proofs,” he said. “Thou hast yet to learn the Eastern heart. When thou seest white in the East, call it black, for in an instant it will be black. Malaish, it is the East! Have I not trusted—did I not mean well by all? Did I not deal justly? Yet my justice was but darkness of purpose, the hidden terror to them all. So did I become what thou findest me and dost believe me—a tyrant, in whose name a thousand do evil things of which I neither hear nor know. Proof! When a woman lies in your arms, it is not the moment to prove her fidelity. Nahoum has crawled back to my feet with these things, and by the beard of the Prophet they are true!” He looked at the papers with loathing. “But what his purpose was when he spied upon and bribed my army I know not. Yet, it shall be said, he has held Harrik back—Harrik, my brother. Son of Sheitan and slime of the Nile, have I not spared Harrik all these years!”