David read him as an open book, and saw the madness come upon him.
"Neither Higli, nor Achmet, nor any of thy fellow-conspirators has betrayed thee," David said.

"God has other voices to whisper the truth than those who share thy crimes.

I have ears, and the air is full of voices." Harrik stared at him.

Was this Inglesi, then, with the grey coat, buttoned to the chin, and the broad black hat which remained on his head unlike the custom of the English--was he one of those who saw visions and dreamed dreams, even as himself! Had he not heard last night a voice whisper through the dark "Harrik, Harrik, flee to the desert! The lions are loosed upon thee!" Had he not risen with the voice still in his ears and fled to the harem, seeking Zaida, she who had never cringed before him, whose beauty he had conquered, but whose face turned from him when he would lay his lips on hers?
And, as he fled, had he not heard, as it were, footsteps lightly following him--or were they going before him?
Finding Zaida, had he not told her of the voice, and had she not said: "In the desert all men are safe--safe from themselves and safe from others; from their own acts and from the acts of others"?
Were the lions, then, loosed upon him?
Had he been betrayed?
Suddenly the thought flashed into his mind that his challenger would not have thrust himself into danger, given himself to the mouth of the Pit, if violence were intended.

There was that inside his robe, than which lightning would not be more quick to slay.