He knew that David would endure no spying, and it was creditable to his subtlety and skill that he was able to warn his master, without being himself suspected of getting information by dark means.

On the palace roof Mahommed was happy to-night.

Tomorrow would be a great day, and, since the Saadat was to control its destiny, what other end could there be but happiness?
Had not the Saadat always ridden over all that had been in his way?
Had not he, Mahommed, ever had plenty to eat and drink, and money to send to Manfaloot to his father there, and to bribe when bribing was needed?
Truly, life was a boon! With a neboot of dom-wood across his knees he sat in the still, moonlit night, peering into that distance whence Ebn Ezra Bey and his men must come, the moon above tranquil and pleasant and alluring, and the desert beneath, covered as it was with the outrages and terrors of war, breathing softly its ancient music, that delicate vibrant humming of the latent activities.

In his uncivilised soul Mahommed Hassan felt this murmur, and even as he sat waiting to know whether a little army would steal out of the south like phantoms into this circle the Saadat had drawn round him, he kept humming to himself--had he not been, was he not now, an Apollo to numberless houris who had looked down at him from behind mooshrabieh screens, or waited for him in the palm-grove or the cane-field?
The words of his song were not uttered aloud, but yet he sang them silently-- "Every night long and all night my spirit is moaning and crying O dear gazelle, that has taken away my peace! Ah! if my beloved come not, my eyes will be blinded with weeping Moon of my joy, come to me, hark to the call of my soul!" Over and over he kept chanting the song.

Suddenly, however, he leaned farther forward and strained his ears.