Othman was touched. “This is a great honor, Your Excellency.”

“You deserve to be honored. Good services cannot be forgotten.”

Tears came to his eyes.

“Your absence has created a vacuum that nobody else can fill,” said the Under Secretary.

“You’re so kind…That’s why you say these things…”

“Soon you’ll be all right and you’ll come back to us. I have brought you good news.” The man smiled while Othman gazed at him with incomprehension.

“A decision has been made today to promote you to the position of Director General.” Othman continued to gaze at him blankly.

“Right and justice have won in the end.”

“I owe everything to your kindness,” murmured Othman.

“His Excellency the Minister has asked me to convey to you his best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

“I’m most grateful to His Excellency.”

The man went away, leaving him in the seventh heaven, as though he had been a messenger of mercy sent by the unknown. Othman received the congratulations of Radiya and her aunt with his eyes shut. And again he felt he no longer had any confidence in space.

“How happy I am!” he heard her say.

He savored his success tranquilly. He was now “His Excellency,” the occupant of the Blue Room, the authority on legal rulings and administrative directives, the inspiration behind perceptive instructions for wise administration and the efficient manipulation of people’s interests, one of God’s faithful empowered to do good and prevent evil.

“My cup shall be full, O Lord,” he addressed himself to God, “the day I am enabled by Your gracious mercy to get up and exercise power and exalt Your word on earth.”

But the doctor said to him, “What matters to me is your health, not your job.” Indeed, the doctor was unbendingly obdurate, and if his prognosis proved correct, that promotion would never take effect.

“Health alone is not enough to make a true believer happy,” Othman said to him.

“I’ve never heard that before.”

“If I use up my sick-leave entitlement, I’ll be pensioned off.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that.”

Othman was depressed and he thought to himself, “Perhaps they only promoted me as an act of charity, knowing all the time that I would not be able to take up the job.”

He called Radiya and said to her, “I don’t want to trouble you any more.”

She was puzzled. “How do you mean?”

“Nursing a sick man is a horrible business.”

Radiya protested again but he was determined. He discussed the idea with his doctor, who agreed and arranged for him to be moved to a private room in the hospital. Visitors apart, he had reverted to his old solitude.