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.