David made no sign of discomposure, but said slowly: “Dost thou think I did not know my danger, Eminence? Do I seem to thee such a fool? I came alone as one would come to the tent of a Bedouin chief whose son one had slain, and ask for food and safety. A thousand men were mine to command, but I came alone. Is thy guest imbecile? Let them go. I have that to say which is for Prince Harrik’s ear alone.”
An instant’s hesitation, and Harrik motioned the slaves away. “What is the private word for my ear?” he asked presently, fingering the stem of the narghileh.
“To do right by Egypt, the land of thy fathers and thy land; to do right by the Prince Pasha, thy brother.”
“What is Egypt to thee? Why shouldst thou bring thine insolence here? Couldst thou not preach in thine own bazaars beyond the sea?”
David showed no resentment. His reply was composed and quiet. “I am come to save Egypt from the work of thy hands.”
“Dog of an unbeliever, what hast thou to do with me, or the work of my hands?”
David held up Kaid’s ring, which had lain in his hand. “I come from the master of Egypt—master of thee, and of thy life, and of all that is thine.”
“What is Kaid’s message to me?” Harrik asked, with an effort at unconcern, for David’s boldness had in it something chilling to his fierce passion and pride.
“The word of the Effendina is to do right by Egypt, to give thyself to justice and to peace.”
“Have done with parables. To do right by Egypt wherein, wherefore?” The eyes glinted at David like bits of fiery steel.