"It is the best way, effendi."

"He'd be annoyed," said Lacey with a patient sigh.

"He has a great soul; but sometimes he forgets that expediency is the
true policy."

"Yet he's done a lot of things without it. He's never failed in what he
set out to do. What he's done has been kicked over, but he's done it all
right, somehow, at last."

"He will not be able to do this, effendi, except with my help--and
thine."

"He's had quite a lot of things almost finished, too," said Lacey
reflectively, "and then a hand reached out in the dark and cut the wires
--cut them when he was sleeping, and he didn't know; cut them when he was
waking, and he wouldn't understand; cut them under his own eyes, and he
wouldn't see; because the hand that cut them was the hand of the perfect
friend."

He got slowly to his feet, as a cloud of colour drew over the face of
Nahoum and his eyes darkened with astonishment and anger. Lacey put his
hands in his pockets and waited till Nahoum also rose. Then he gathered
the other's eyes to his, and said with drawling scorn:

"So, you thought I didn't understand! You thought I'd got a brain like a
peanut, and wouldn't drop onto your game or the trap you've set. You'd
advance money--got from the slave-dealers to prevent the slave-trade
being stopped! If Claridge Pasha took it and used it, he could never