"The last that may come--God be praised, he goeth to his long home. It
was written in his last hour. There was no hope; he is gone. And so,
one more reason showeth why I should go where thou goest, Saadat."

Casting his eyes toward the figure by the acacia-tree, his face clouded
and he pondered anxiously, looking at David the while. Twice he essayed
to speak, but paused.

David's eyes followed his look. "What is it? Who is he--yonder?"

The other rose to his feet. "Come and see, Saadat," he replied.
"Seeing, thou wilt know what to do."

"Zaida--is it of Zaida?" David asked.

"The man will answer for himself, Saadat." Coming within a few feet of
the figure crouched upon the rock, Ebn Ezra paused and stretched out a
hand. "A moment, Saadat. Dost thou not see, dost thou not recognise
him?"

David intently studied the figure, which seemed unconscious of their
presence. The shoulders were stooping and relaxed as though from great
fatigue, but David could see that the figure was that of a tall man. The
head was averted, but a rough beard covered the face, and, in the light
of the fire, one hand that clutched it showed long and skinny and yellow
and cruel. The hand fascinated David's eyes. Where had he seen it? It
flashed upon him--a hand clutching a robe, in a frenzy of fear, in the
court-yard of the blue tiles, in Kaid's Palace--Achmet the Ropemaker!
He drew back a step.