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His eyes opened, he saw and recognised them all, but his look rested only on Faith and Soolsby; and, as time went on, these were the only faces to which he gave an answering look of understanding. Days wore away, but he neither spoke nor moved. People came and went softly, and he gave no heed. There was ever a trouble in his eyes when they were open. Only when Soolsby came did it seem to lessen.
"Now, wouldn't it be a joke, a reg'lar first-class joke, if Kimber and me both had the same idee, if we was both workin' for the same thing an' didn't know it? I reckon it might be so." "What end is thee working for, friend? If the public prints speak true, Kimber is working to stand for Parliament against Lord Eglington." Soolsby grunted and laughed in his throat.
It would have been an accident. Providence did not intervene; I did. You owe me something, Soolsby." Soolsby stared at him almost blindly for a moment.
When she had gone, Soolsby, who had been present and had interpreted the old man's look according to a knowledge all his own, came over to the bed, leaned down and whispered: "I will speak now." Then the eyes opened, and a smile faintly flickered at the mouth. "I will speak now," Soolsby said again into the old man's ear.
Soolsby took the paper from him and read slowly: "... Claridge Pasha has done good work in Egypt, but he is a generation too soon, it may be two or three too soon. We can but regard this fresh enterprise as a temptation to Fate to take from our race one of the most promising spirits and vital personalities which this generation has produced. It is a forlorn hope.
"And what means that to a common mind?" "That what his Government does in Egypt will mean good or bad to our Egyptian," she returned. "That he can do our man good or ill?" Soolsby asked sharply "that he, yonder, can do that?" She inclined her head. "When I see him doing ill well, when I see him doing that" he snatched up a piece of wood from the floor "then I will break him, so!"
"Call me 'my lord' no more. . . . But I will go back to England to her that's waiting at the Red Mansion, and you will remember, Soolsby " Slowly the great flotilla of dahabiehs floated with the strong current down towards Cairo, the great sails swelling to the breeze that blew from the Libyan Hills.
Leave Soolsby alone. He will be safe. And do not tell him that I have seen him so." He stooped over and touched the old man's shoulder gently. He held out his hand to her. She took it, then suddenly leaned over and kissed it. She could not speak. He stepped to the door and looked out. Behind the Red Mansion the sun was setting, and the far garden looked cool and sweet.
The old man, on awaking from his drunken sleep, had been visited by a terrible remorse, and, whenever he had seen David coming, had fled into the woods. This evening, however, David came in the dark, and Soolsby was caught. When David entered first, the old man broke down. He could not speak, but leaned upon the back of a chair, and though his lips moved, no sound came forth.
"Speak," he added presently, as Soolsby fumbled in his great loose pockets, and drew forth a paper. "What has thee to say?" Without a word, Soolsby handed over the paper, but the other would not take it. "What is it?" he asked, his lips growing pale. "Read if thee can read." The gibe in the last words made the colour leap into Soolsby's face, and a fighting look came.
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