“Things are not as obvious as you imagine,” the Pasha replied. “It is possible that prearranged signals filtered through from the Palace; it is also possible that English spies are in high spirits over the havoc they have caused. But it seems to me that this deluge began quite naturally and then certain people took advantage of the situation.”

Suddenly deep-seated anxieties stirred inside Isa’s mind and his heart jumped. “But what about the battle?” he asked.

The Pasha slowly twisted his mustache and looked up at the ceiling, where lights hidden behind golden wings were gleaming in the four corners. Then he looked at the young man again, his eyes showing all the signs of his own uncertainty and depression without needing to say a word.

“Damn anyone who let’s himself get talked into trifling with our struggle!” said Isa, trying to fend off his own apprehension.

No signs of cheerful optimism appeared on the Pasha’s face. He simply made do with replying, “Today will have grave consequences.”

“For the second time today,” said Isa, suddenly feeling listless and defeated, “I’m reminded of what Shaikh Abd at-Tawwab as-Salhubi said after the annulment of the treaty: ‘It’s the end for us. Now it’s in God’s hands.’ ”

The Pasha smiled. “It’ll never be the end for us,” he said. “We may fall but we’ll come back even more powerful than before.”

The telephone rang. It was the Pasha’s wife calling from the top floor. He looked upset as he put the receiver back in its cradle.

“Martial law’s been declared,” he said.

They both sat for a while astonished, then Isa broke the silence. “Perhaps it’s necessary,” he muttered, “so that they can arrest the culprits.” But then he noticed that the Pasha was lost in his own morose thoughts, and tried to make amends. “Martial law in our times!” he said. “What a terrible thing to happen!”

“It was not declared because of our times,” the Pasha replied, frowning.

THREE

“A decree’s been issued transferring me from my position in the minister’s office to the archives.”

His mother raised her head and looked at him. Her thin face was much like his own, especially in its triangular shape, but heavily wrinkled, with signs of age in her eyes, mouth, and jaw.

“It’s not the first time,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your old job back. Or maybe something even better. Our Lord will put things right.”