"And I should have lost my place, lost all for which I cared. I had no love for money; it was but a means. I spent it for the State—for the Effendina, and to keep my place. I lost my place, however, in another way."
"Proofs! Proofs!" Kaid's voice was hoarse with feeling.
"I have no proofs against Prince Harrik, no word upon paper. But there are proofs that the army is seditious, that, at any moment, it may revolt."
"Thou hast kept this secret?" questioned Kaid darkly and suspiciously.
"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."