"Shut up," groaned an anonymous muffled voice, his face buried in a pillow.

Clovis smiled at me. "Let us eat."

"Good evening gentlemen," said Mr. Diltz as we entered the dining room.

"Evening?" I asked looking at both of them.

"Yes, it is night," said Clovis.

"I guess the next question should be which night," I said laughing.

Diltz gave a courteous grin. "Would you gentlemen like something to eat?"

"Baked fish," said Clovis.

"And you sir?" he asked looking at me.

"A cheese omelet and a glass of tomato juice."

"Right away," he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

I sat down across from Clovis and hung my cane on the back of the chair next to me. The dagger he had given me dug into my abdomen as I sat down. I removed it from my waistband and looked at it under normal light for the first time. Red rubies and yellow sapphires punctuated the polished silver scabbard. I studied it for several minutes before I spoke.

"I couldn't really appreciate this in the poor light of the grotto. It's amazing."

He smiled humbly.

I ran my fingertips over the raised silver characters around the handle. "This writing is Arabic, isn't it?"

"Yes. It says 'Death to the foes of Islam'."

"Are you a Moslem?"

"No," he chuckled. "I am no Moslem, though if I were not what I am, I believe I would be."

"Why?"

"It is the most virtuous of the western religions and holds men to the strictest path of righteousness."

"Do you think there is a divinity that awaits those who adhere to this 'strict path of righteousness' laid out in the Koran?"

He sat back in his chair as though evaluating an answer. "I do not, but I do believe the Koran's strict path of righteousness leads to divine men, and the world needs as many of those as it can get."

I nodded and looked back down at the strange weapon. "Last night you said this is from your homeland. Where is that exactly?"

"Arabia on the Red Sea coast," he said with pride.

I removed the knife from the scabbard to inspect the blade. I couldn't imagine ever having a use for it, but marveled at its quality just the same. "I would like to meet the craftsman who could do work like this."

"I am afraid that is impossible. He died two hundred years ago."

"Oh, I didn't realize this was an antique," I said, sheathing it.

"Neither did I."

Mr. Diltz came back in carrying a basket of rolls along with one glass of red juice and one of water. "I have messages for you both." He turned to Clovis first. "Chance said he is flying to Bali in a few hours and would be happy to drop you along the way unless you would prefer your usual route."