small common rooms, which stood in place of the usual chapel. In each, a group of men sat occupied in various tasks having to do with a stage of preparing wool. Some were carding, some dyeing and spinning, some weaving. Trudy felt her own curiosity growing. However, mindful that she must appear as if these sights were familiar to her, she cast no curious glances their way.
At the sight of a group of men in long, white robes, Ahmad, who had been following them at a discrete distance, chose to stop. The men glanced up from their work.
An exchange of words transpired in Arabic. Trudy, to whom all tongues were known, recognized the greetings as cordial.
Turning back to his own party, Ahmad fixed his stare on Matthew. Trudy supposed he was examining his friend for signs of fatigue.
"Saab," he said, apparently satisfied. "If you would not be inconvenienced, I should like to converse with these men."
"Not at all. You must do as you wish. If I tire, I can wait for you in the carriage."
Ahmad bowed and entered the room where the men were working.
"You, yourself, have traveled widely, Sir Matthew?" Mr. Waite's inquiry made them turn their heads.
Trudy could feel a bunching of the muscles in Matthew's arm. "Yes."
"Then you are perhaps familiar with the Mohammedan tongue?"
Matthew gave a curt nod, and Trudy could tell he had no wish to be questioned further. His tightly compressed lips barely concealed his impatience.
A nervous flutter of Mr. Waite's eyelids revealed that he had sensed Matthew's reserve. "Forgive my curiosity, sir. I had merely hoped you would be willing to help me with a particular inmate who seems to have landed here with no knowledge whatsoever of English. Though his fellows are quite willing to act as his interpreter, none are fluent enough to make his trouble clear to me."
"If that is all you require--" Matthew again relaxed--"then Ahmad should be able to assist you. When it comes to African tongues, he is far more gifted than I."
He called Ahmad back out of the room, and they conferred to one side. Afraid that Mr. Waite would use the opportunity to try to establish who she was, Trudy kept him occupied with various questions of her own. She could not hear the other men's conversation, but bits and pieces of it floated to her ears. Matthew clearly wanted Ahmad to stay at the almshouse as long as he wished, while Ahmad was concerned by the thought of Matthew's going home alone.
At last, Matthew's strength of character carried the day, assisted by a glare from his powerful eyes. While many other men would have quaked beneath it, Ahmad merely conceded defeat with a deep salaam.
Matthew rejoined Trudy and their host and gave Mr. Waite to know that Ahmad would stay to render him whatever service was needed, but that he himself must retire.
"I have errands of my own to complete, also," Trudy said quickly, not wishing to be trapped with Mr. Waite and his questions. "I shall accompany you to the door."
Mr. Waite thanked them both for coming and begged they would do so again. At least, Trudy thought, as she and Matthew approached the courtyard, the steward of the almshouse was no longer staring at her as if she'd fallen from the sky. No doubt he had put his confusion behind him, merely grateful to have two new interested patrons for his house.
As they came out, Trudy said, "I hope this morning has not tired you excessively."
"Not at all. You quite mistake my actions."
She had offended him once again with her solicitude. Matthew, it seemed, did not care for sympathy, far less for anyone's pity; but she could not help being concerned for his health. Fortunately, as she examined him covertly, he showed no particular signs of fatigue. Instead, a hint of restlessness flickered in his eyes.
She arched a look, at once feeling conspiratorial. "Very well, sir, what was your design in escaping? Did you find Mr. Waite uninspiring?"
"No. Though at one time I would have despised a man who did nothing more than a
At the sight of a group of men in long, white robes, Ahmad, who had been following them at a discrete distance, chose to stop. The men glanced up from their work.
An exchange of words transpired in Arabic. Trudy, to whom all tongues were known, recognized the greetings as cordial.
Turning back to his own party, Ahmad fixed his stare on Matthew. Trudy supposed he was examining his friend for signs of fatigue.
"Saab," he said, apparently satisfied. "If you would not be inconvenienced, I should like to converse with these men."
"Not at all. You must do as you wish. If I tire, I can wait for you in the carriage."
Ahmad bowed and entered the room where the men were working.
"You, yourself, have traveled widely, Sir Matthew?" Mr. Waite's inquiry made them turn their heads.
Trudy could feel a bunching of the muscles in Matthew's arm. "Yes."
"Then you are perhaps familiar with the Mohammedan tongue?"
Matthew gave a curt nod, and Trudy could tell he had no wish to be questioned further. His tightly compressed lips barely concealed his impatience.
A nervous flutter of Mr. Waite's eyelids revealed that he had sensed Matthew's reserve. "Forgive my curiosity, sir. I had merely hoped you would be willing to help me with a particular inmate who seems to have landed here with no knowledge whatsoever of English. Though his fellows are quite willing to act as his interpreter, none are fluent enough to make his trouble clear to me."
"If that is all you require--" Matthew again relaxed--"then Ahmad should be able to assist you. When it comes to African tongues, he is far more gifted than I."
He called Ahmad back out of the room, and they conferred to one side. Afraid that Mr. Waite would use the opportunity to try to establish who she was, Trudy kept him occupied with various questions of her own. She could not hear the other men's conversation, but bits and pieces of it floated to her ears. Matthew clearly wanted Ahmad to stay at the almshouse as long as he wished, while Ahmad was concerned by the thought of Matthew's going home alone.
At last, Matthew's strength of character carried the day, assisted by a glare from his powerful eyes. While many other men would have quaked beneath it, Ahmad merely conceded defeat with a deep salaam.
Matthew rejoined Trudy and their host and gave Mr. Waite to know that Ahmad would stay to render him whatever service was needed, but that he himself must retire.
"I have errands of my own to complete, also," Trudy said quickly, not wishing to be trapped with Mr. Waite and his questions. "I shall accompany you to the door."
Mr. Waite thanked them both for coming and begged they would do so again. At least, Trudy thought, as she and Matthew approached the courtyard, the steward of the almshouse was no longer staring at her as if she'd fallen from the sky. No doubt he had put his confusion behind him, merely grateful to have two new interested patrons for his house.
As they came out, Trudy said, "I hope this morning has not tired you excessively."
"Not at all. You quite mistake my actions."
She had offended him once again with her solicitude. Matthew, it seemed, did not care for sympathy, far less for anyone's pity; but she could not help being concerned for his health. Fortunately, as she examined him covertly, he showed no particular signs of fatigue. Instead, a hint of restlessness flickered in his eyes.
She arched a look, at once feeling conspiratorial. "Very well, sir, what was your design in escaping? Did you find Mr. Waite uninspiring?"
"No. Though at one time I would have despised a man who did nothing more than a
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