Shall I not hear?
I will put my hand in the entrails of Egypt, and wrench them forth for thee." He made a gesture so cruelly, so darkly, suggestive that Nahoum turned his head away.

There flashed before his mind the scene of death in which his own father had lain, butchered like a beast in the shambles, a victim to the rage of Ibrahim Pasha, the son of Mehemet Ali.
"Then listen, and learn why I have need of thee to-night." First, Nahoum told the story of David's coming, and Kaid's treatment of himself, the foreshadowing of his own doom.

Then of David and the girl, and the dead body he had seen; of the escape of the girl, of David's return with Kaid--all exactly as it had happened, save that he did; not mention the name of the dead man.
It did not astonish Mizraim that Nahoum had kept all this secret.

That crime should be followed by secrecy and further crime, if need be, seems natural to the Oriental mind.

Mizraim had seen removal follow upon removal, and the dark Nile flowed on gloomily, silently, faithful to the helpless ones tossed into its bosom.