"You know best about that, in spite of the part you play.
Nevertheless, Kaffar has not gone without leaving a friend behind him, and you will have to show how you came by that"-- pointing to the knife, which I had dropped with a shudder; "this"-- holding up the neckcloth; "you must explain these marks"-- pointing to footmarks near the water's edge; "besides which, you will have to produce my friend." A terrible thought flashed into my mind.

I had again been acting under the influence of this man's power.

By some means he had made me the slave of his will, and I had unknowingly killed Kaffar, and he, like the fiend he was, had come to sweep me out of his road.

Perchance, too, Kaffar's death might serve him in good stead.

Undoubtedly the Egyptian knew too much for Voltaire, and so I was made a tool whereby he could be freed from troublesome obstacles.