"Aiwah, Effendi."
"What are they doing near the hills?"
"Must Abdul speak the words which will cause his master pain? Will the Effendi not wait until we draw nearer? It is not wise to anticipate evil."
A horrible suspicion devastated Michael's brain. He could brook no uncertainty. Abdul's lengthy manner of getting to the point irritated him as it had never done before.
"Out with it, Abdul! Having said so much, you must say more." Michael was compelling his servant to give utterance to the suspicion which had become almost a certainty in his mind.
"Aiwah, Effendi. The treasure has already been discovered."
"Good God! Do you think it is that, Abdul?"
"Aiwah, Effendi." Abdul's voice was contrite.
Michael felt as if all movement in the world had suddenly been arrested. Then his mind began scrambling amid the ruins of his dreams for some lucid thought, for some reason which would explain why he was seated high up on a camel's back in the eastern desert.
He had never dreamed of such an ending to his dreams. In his most despondent moods he had contemplated no greater misfortune than the stealing of the jewels and the gold, the looting of its portable treasures by native antika hunters. His super-man had never seriously contemplated even that misfortune; his faith was unshaken, his optimism complete.