CHAPTER XXXII

FORTY STRIPES SAVE ONE

The bells that rang were not the bells of Hamley; they were part of no
vision or hallucination, and they drew David out of his chamber into the
night. A little group of three stood sharply silhouetted against the
moonlight, and towering above them was the spare, commanding form of Ebn
Ezra Bey. Three camels crouched near, and beside them stood a Nubian lad
singing to himself the song of the camel-driver:

"Fleet is thy foot: thou shalt rest by the Etl tree;
Water shalt thou drink from the blue-deep well;
Allah send His gard'ner with the green bersim,
For thy comfort, fleet one, by the Etl tree.
As the stars fly, have thy footsteps flown
Deep is the well, drink, and be still once more;
Till the pursuing winds panting have found thee
And, defeated, sink still beside thee--
By the well and the Etl tree."

For a moment David stood in the doorway listening to the low song of the
camel-driver. Then he came forward. As he did so, one of the two who
stood with Ebn Ezra moved towards the monastery door slowly. It was a
monk with a face which, even in this dim light, showed a deathly
weariness. The eyes looked straight before him, as though they saw
nothing of the world, only a goal to make, an object to be accomplished.
The look of the face went to David's heart--the kinship of pain was
theirs.