He gathered
himself together and tuned his mind to the scene through which he had
just passed, and then to the interview he would have with Kaid on the
morrow. A few hours ago he had seen no way out of it all--he had had no
real hope that Kaid would turn to him again; but the last two hours had
changed all that. Hope was alive in him. He had fought a desperate fight
with himself, and he had conquered. Then had come Achmet, unrepentant,
degraded still, but with the spirit of Something glowing--Achmet to die
for a cause, driven by that Something deep beneath the degradation and
the crime. He had hope, and, as the camel-driver's voice died away, and
he lay down with a sheep-skin over him and went instantly to sleep, David
drew to the fire and sat down beside it. Presently Ebn Ezra came to urge
him to go to bed, but he would not. He had slept, he said; he had slept
and rested, and the night was good--he would wait. Then the other brought
rugs and blankets, and gave David some, and lay down beside the fire, and
watched and waited for he knew not what.
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