Returned to the _Fatma_, Isaacson felt within him a sort of little
collapse, that was like the crumbling of something small. For the moment
he was below his usual standard of power. He was depressed, slightly
overstrung. He was conscious of the acute inner restlessness that comes
from the need to rest, of the painful wakefulness that is the child of a
lack of proper sleep. As soon as he had arrived, he asked for tea.
"You can bring it," he said to Hassan.
When Hassan came up with the tea Isaacson gave him a cigarette, and,
instead of getting rid of him, began to talk, or rather to set Hassan
talking.
"What's the name of the tall boy who met us on the _Loulia_?"
"Ibrahim, my gentleman."
Ibrahim--the name that was mentioned in Nigel's letter as that of the
Egyptian who had arranged for the hire by Nigel of the _Loulia_.
Isaacson encouraged Hassan to talk about Ibrahim, while he kept still
and sipped his tea and lemon.
It seemed that Ibrahim was a great friend of Hassan's; in fact, Hassan's
greatest friend. He and Hassan were like brothers. Also, Hassan loved
Ibrahim as he loved his father, and Ibrahim thought of Hassan with as
much respect and admiration as he dedicated to his own mother.
Isaacson was impressed. His temples felt as if they were being pinched,
as if somebody was trying gently to squeeze them together. Yet he was
able to listen and to encourage, and to know why he was doing both.
Hassan flowed on with a native volubility, revealing his own and
Ibrahim's affairs, and presently it appeared that at this moment Ibrahim
was not at all pleased, not at all happy, on board the _Loulia_. Why was
this? Isaacson asked. The reason was that he had been supplanted--he who
had been efficient, devoted, inspired, and capable beyond what could be
looked for from any other Egyptian, or indeed from any other sentient
being. Hassan's hands became tragic and violent as he talked. He showed
his teeth and seemed burning with fury. And who has done this monstrous
thing? Isaacson dropped out the enquiry. Hamza--him who prayed. That was
the answer. And it was through Ibrahim that Hamza had entered the
service of my Lord Arminigel; it was Ibrahim's unexampled generosity and
nobility that had brought Hamza to the chance of this treachery.
Then Ibrahim had been first in the service of the Armines?
Very soon Isaacson knew that Mohammed, "the best donkey-boy of Luxor,"
had been driven out to make room for Hamza, while "my Lord Arminigel"
had been away in the Fayyum, and that now Hamza had been permitted to
take Ibrahim's place as the personal attendant on my lord.
"Hamza him wait on my lord, give him his drink, give him his meat, give
him his sick-food"--_i.e._, medicine--'give him everythin'.
And meanwhile Ibrahim, though always well paid and well treated, had
sunk out of importance, and was become, in the eyes of men, "like one
dog what eat where him can and sleepin' nowheres."
Who had driven out Mohammed? Isaacson was interested to know that. He
was informed, with the usual variations of the East, that Mrs. Armine
had wanted Hamza. "She likin' him because him always prayin'." The last
sentence seemed to throw doubt upon all that had gone before. But as
Isaacson lay back, having dismissed Hassan, and strove to rest, he
continually saw the beautiful Hamza before him, beautiful because
wonderfully typical, shrouded and drenched in the spirit of the East, a
still fanatic with fatal eyes.