Already the staff was in his hands and the cross-roads were sinking into the distance behind.

He was dimly conscious of the wan, shocked face of Faith in the crowd beneath him, which seemed blurred and swaying, of the bowed head of Luke Claridge, who, standing up, had taken off his hat in the presence of this news of his brother's death which he saw written in David's face.

David stood for a moment before the great throng, numb and speechless.

"It is a message from Damascus," he said at last, and could say no more.
Ebn Ezra Bey turned a grave face upon the audience.
"Will you hear me ?" he said.

"I am an Arab." "Speak--speak!" came from every side.
"The Turk hath done his evil work in Damascus," he said.