"As a camel knows the coming storm while yet the sky is clear, by that
which the eye does not see, so do I feel Nahoum. The evils thou hast
suffered, Saadat, are from his hand, if from any hand in Egypt--"

Suddenly he leaned over and touched David's arm. "Saadat, it is of no
avail. There is none in Egypt that desires good; thy task is too great.
All men will deceive thee; if not now, yet in time. If Kaid favours thee
once more, and if it is made possible for thee to go to the Soudan, yet I
pray thee to stay here. Better be smitten here, where thou canst get
help from thine own country, if need be, than yonder, where they but wait
to spoil thy work and kill thee. Thou art young; wilt thou throw thy
life away? Art thou not needed here as there? For me it is nothing,
whether it be now or in a few benumbing years; but for thee--is there no
one whom thou lovest so well that thou wouldst not shelter thy life to
spare that life sorrow? Is there none that thou lovest so, and that will
love thee to mortal sorrow, if thou goest without care to thy end too
soon?"

As a warm wind suddenly sweeps across the cool air of a summer evening
for an instant, suffocating and unnerving, so Ebn Ezra's last words swept
across David's spirit. His breath came quicker, his eyes half closed.
"Is there none that thou lovest so, and that will love thee to mortal
sorrow, if--"

As a hand secretly and swiftly slips the lever that opens the sluice-
gates of a dike, while the watchman turns away for a moment to look at
the fields which the waters enrich and the homes of poor folk whom the
gates defend, so, in a moment, when off his guard, worn with watching and
fending, as it were, Ebn Ezra had sprung the lever, and a flood of