Thou canst not live in strength nor die with fortitude without it.

For the old, malaish, old age is between a sleeping and a waking! Come, Saadat! Forget not, thou must ride again to Cairo at dawn." David got slowly to his feet and turned towards the monastery.

The figure of a monk stood in the doorway with a torch to light him to his room.
He turned to Ebn Ezra again.

"Does thee think that I have aught of his courage--my Uncle Benn?
Thou knowest me--shall I face it out as did he ?" "Saadat," the old man answered, pointing, "yonder acacia, that was he, quick to grow and short to live; but thou art as this date-palm, which giveth food to the hungry, and liveth through generations.

Peace be upon thee," he added at the doorway, as the torch flickered towards the room where David was to lie.
"And upon thee, peace!" answered David gently, and followed the smoky light to an inner chamber.