“And I, I will help you in this praiseworthy endeavor.  Oh, how much you remind me of the son of my heart who, like you, erred, and who was permitted to atone for all, for more than all by dying like a hero for his faith on the field of battle!—­Count on me, and let your purpose become deed.  In me you have found a friend.—­Now, go.  You shall hear from me before long.  But, once more:  Do not provoke the Negro; beware of him; and the next time you meet him subdue your pride and make as though you had never seen him before.”

He looked sadly at Orion, as though the sight of him revived some loved image in his mind, kissed his brow, and as soon as the youth had left the anteroom he hastily drew open the curtain that hung across the door into the dining-room.—­A few steps behind it stood the Vekeel, who was arranging the straps of his sword-belt.

“Listener!” exclaimed the Arab with intense scorn, “you, a man of gifts, a man of deeds!  A hero in battle and in council; lion, serpent, and toad in one!  When will you cast out of your soul all that is contemptible and base?  Be what you have made yourself, not what you were; do not constantly remind the man who helped you to rise that you were born of a slave!”

“My Lord!” began the Moor, and the whites of his rolling eyes were ominously conspicuous in his black face.  But Amru took the words out of his mouth and went on in stern and determined reproof: 

“You behaved to that noble youth like an idiot, like a buffoon at a fair, like a madman.”

“To Hell with him!” cried Obada, “I hate the gilded upstart.”

“Envious wretch!  Do not provoke him!  Times change, and the day may come when you will have reason to fear him.”

“Him?” shrieked the other.  “I could crush the puppet like a fly!  And he shall live to know it.”

“Your turn first and then his!” said Amru.  “To us he is the more important of the two—­yes, he, the up start, the puppet.  Do you hear?  Do you understand?  If you touch a hair of his head, it will cost you your nose and ears!  Never for an hour forget that you live—­and ought not to live—­only so long as two pairs of lips are sealed.  You know whose.  That clever head remains on your shoulders only as long as they choose.  Cling to it, man; you have only one to lose!  It was necessary, my lord Vekeel, to remind you of that once more!”

The Negro groaned like a wounded beast and sullenly panted out:  “This is the reward of past services; these are the thanks of Moslem to Moslem!—­ And all for the sake of a Christian dog.”

“You have had thanks, and more than are your due,” replied Amru more calmly.  “You know what you pledged yourself to before I raised you to be my Vekeel for the sake of your brains and your sword, and what I had to overlook before I did so—­not on your behalf, but for the great cause of Islam.  And, if you wish to remain where you are, you will do well to sacrifice your wild ambition.  If you cannot, I will send you back to the army, and to-day rather than to-morrow; and if you carry it with too high a hand you will find yourself at Medina in fetters, with your death-warrant stuck in your girdle.”