CHAPTER XVIII
THE LIGHT-BORN MESSENGER
“Basha,” said Israel—he spoke slowly and quietly; but with forced calmness—“Basha, you must seek another hand for work like that—this hand of mine shall never seal that warrant.”
“Tut, man!” whispered Ben Aboo. “Do your new measles break out everywhere? Am I not Kaid? Can I not make you my Khaleefa?”
Israel's face was worn and pale, but his eye burned with the fire of his great resolve.
“Basha,” he said again calmly and quietly, “if you were Sultan and could make me your Vizier, I would not do it.”
“Why?” cried Ben Aboo; “why? why?”
“Because,” said Israel, “I am here to deliver up your seal to you.”
“You? Grace of God!” cried Ben Aboo.