“Is that all you say?” she went on, and there were doubt and fear in her voice. “For how long have you come? Perhaps you do but sojourn for a night or for a week. Oh! tell me quickly—for how long have you come?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, “it depends on you. For all my life, I think, if you will keep me as your servant.”
A great sigh of relief burst from Mea’s breast.
“Oh! stop for this life and the next, too, if you will. Stop till the mountains melt into the desert and the Nile runs through Tama—that is, if I may stop with you. But what mean you? How can you be my servant—you who are—something else?” and she waved her hand upward.
“Mea,” he said, “I must make you understand. I—I am a poor man now; I have nothing left in the world, or, at least, the little that I have I cannot get, because I have promised to be dead to the world, and if I asked for my money, why then, they would know that I am alive. Look! that is all that I possess,” and putting his hand into his pocket, he produced seven and a half piastres—“that, a gun, and a lame camel. I have had to live hard to make my money last from London to Tama, and, as you see, even to risk the desert alone. Well, I must earn my bread, and I remembered your kindness, and your promise that I should be welcome, so I thought to myself: ‘I will go back to the lady Mea, and I will ask her to let me manage her lands, and in return to give me a house to live in and some food, and perhaps if I can make them pay better than they do, a little percentage of the profits to buy myself books and clothes.’ I don’t know if you think I am asking too much,” he added humbly.
“No,” answered Mea, “I do not think that you are asking too much, who might have had more; but we will strike hands upon our bargain afterwards. Meanwhile—my servant—I engage you for life, and as a luck-penny will you give me some of that dinner which you are cooking in the pot, for I am hungry? No,” she added, “I forget; it is I should give the luck-penny, and Anubis, whom you love better, shall have your dinner.”
Then she clapped her hands, and the five men advanced out of the darkness, looking curiously at Rupert. She turned upon them fiercely.
“Are you stones of the desert or palms of the wood,” she cried, “that you stand so still? Down, dogs, and make obeisance to your lord, who has come back to rule you!”
They did not hesitate or wait to be told again, for something in Tama’s eye informed them that prompt obedience was best. Nor, indeed, did they grudge him fealty, for Rupert was loved by all of them as the great man and the brave who had saved their lady’s life or honour. Flat they went upon the sand, and in spite of his protests laid their hands upon his foot and did him homage in the Eastern style.
“It is enough,” said Mea. “Back, one of you, to the camp, and bring my mare for my lord to ride, and bid the emir turn out his men to greet him.”