David laid a hand on Lacey's arm and squeezed it, smiling at him with
such friendship that Lacey's eyes moistened, and he turned his head away.

There was a quiet elation in David's look. "We are ready at last," he
said, looking from one to the other. "Well, well," he added, almost
boyishly, "has thee nothing to say, Nahoum?"

Nahoum turned his head away as though overcome. David's face grew
instantly grave. He turned to Lacey. Never before had he seen Lacey's
face with a look like this. He grasped Lacey's arm. "What is it?" he
asked quietly. "What does thee want to say to me?"

But Lacey could not speak, and David turned again to Nahoum. "What is
there to say to me?" he asked. "Something has happened--what is it?
. . . Come, many things have happened before. This can be no worse.
Do thee speak," he urged gently.

"Saadat," said Nahoum, as though under the stress of feeling, "the
cotton-mills at Tashah and Mini are gone--burned to the ground."

For a moment David looked at him without sight in his eyes, and his face
grew very pale. "Excellency, all in one night, the besom of destruction
was abroad," he heard Nahoum say, as though from great depths below him.
He slowly turned his head to look at Lacey. "Is this true?" he asked at
last in an unsteady voice. Lacey could not speak, but inclined his head.

David's figure seemed to shrink for a moment, his face had a withered
look, and his head fell forward in a mood of terrible dejection.

"Saadat! Oh, my God, Saadat, don't take it so!" said Lacey brokenly,