Nay!—by the wild wind around and o’er and in me—
Be his name Vishnu, Christus or Apollo—
Let the god follow!’
“Do you think”—he continued, “that in the matter of life’s leadership the ‘god’ should follow, or we the god?”
Féraz lifted his delicately-marked eyebrows in amazement.
“What an odd question!” he said—“The song is only a song,—part of a long epic poem. And we do not receive a mere poem as a gospel. And, if you speak of life’s leadership, it is devoutly to be hoped that God not only leads but rules us all.”
“Why should you hope it?” asked El-Râmi gloomily—“Myself, I fear it!”
Féraz came to his side and rested one hand affectionately on his arm.
“You are worried and out of sorts, my brother,”—he said gently—“Why do you not seek some change from so much indoor life? You do not even get the advantages I have of going to and fro on the household business. I breathe the fresh air every day,—surely it is necessary for you also?”
“My dear boy, I am perfectly well”—and El-Râmi regarded him steadily—“Why should you doubt it? I am only—a little tired. Poor human nature cannot always escape fatigue.”