“Because, if you cannot induce me to serve you, it will be wise to get me out of your way.”
“I cannot believe that,” returned Ahmed, gently. “The conspiracy of your uncle, Agahr, to place you upon my throne is well known to me, yet I have not even reproached him for his apparent disloyalty. I can understand that the heir of former khans would strive to regain his lost heritage, and your ambition seems to me a natural one. But I am here, and shall remain. Your adherents are weak and impotent. You could not be khan unless they were stronger than my own. Because I appreciate your disappointment I offer you the highest office within my gift. Be my vizier; trust me as I trust you, and let us be friends.”
“I refuse!”
“Then you may go free, to act as you deem best.”
“Free! I may go free?”
“Assuredly. I owe you that courtesy, even did I fear you, for having assisted me in the desert. My act may not balance accounts, but it will be an earnest of my gratitude.”
“Let us cry quits,” said Kasam, eagerly, “and start a new score. For I warn you, Ahmed Khan, that from this day I will oppose you with all my might.”
Ahmed bowed. His face showed neither disappointment nor surprise, and as if he considered the interview at an end he turned again toward the railing, looking down into the flower beds and shrubbery.
Kasam hesitated, glancing at the other silent witness of the scene. The Persian was industriously rolling a cigarette. Dirrag stood with legs astride, evidently admiring his boots. But the sirdar, Abdul, seemed annoyed, and said to the Khan:
“The man openly threatens your Highness. We are not sure of his tribesmen of Raab. Would it not be well to take some action in this matter?”