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Parker, Gilbert, 1860-1932

"The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - Complete"

"He awaits his fate in thine
own dwelling, Effendina." Kaid glowered upon Achmet. "In the years which
Time, the Scytheman, will cut from thy life, think, as thou fastest at
Ramadan or feastest at Beiram, how Kaid filled thy plate when thou wast a
beggar, and made thee from a dog of a fellah into a pasha. Go to thy
dwelling, and come here no more," he added sharply. "I am sick of thy
yellow, sinful face."
Achmet made no reply, but, as he passed beyond the door with Higli, he
said in a whisper: "Come--to Harrik and the army! He shall be deposed.
The hour is at hand." High answered him faintly, however. He had not the
courage of the true conspirator, traitor though he was.
As they disappeared, Kaid made a wide gesture of friendliness to David,
and motioned to a seat, then to a narghileh. David seated himself, took
the stem of a narghileh in his mouth for an instant, then laid it down
again and waited.
"Nahoum--I do not understand," Kaid said presently, his eyes gloating.
"He comes of his own will, Effendina."
"Wherefore?" Kaid could not realise the truth.


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