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CHAPTER XXV – SUNSET FROM THE CITADEL
Directly across the street from the hotel were gathered forty or more Egyptian donkeys, saddled, bridled and ready for riders. These donkeys were guarded by boys, who acted both as guides and drivers when the little animals were engaged.
The moment Dick, Brad, Dunbar, and Nadia appeared on the steps of the hotel it seemed that all the boys made a rush across the street, yelling wildly and beckoning with their dusky hands.
“I got good donkey; tak’ him!”
“Mine fine donkey, Teddy Rosefelt!”
“Mine best, Cha’ncey Depoo!”
“Tak’ mine, G’orge Wash’ton!”
“Tak’ mine, Carry Nation!”
“Well, say!” exclaimed Brad; “I’m getting some tired of being called Cha’ncey Depoo!”
Nadia laughed.
“And I’m not Carry Nation,” she said.
“They are not calling us names like that,” smiled Dick. “Haven’t you discovered that those are the names other travelers have applied to the donkeys?”
“Oh, is that it?” said Buckhart, with apparent relief. “Why, I’ve happened to take the same donkey both times before, when I’ve not walked, and the driver kept shouting Cha’ncey Depoo, so I thought he meant me.”
“He was talking to the donkey.”
“Shall we take the donkeys to the hill?” asked Nadia.
“Of course we will,” nodded Dunbar. “Pick your beast.”
“Well, I like the looks of this boy,” said the girl; “so I’ll choose him.”
“Girl-like,” chuckled her brother, “she chooses by the looks of the boy, instead of the donkey.”
Amid the confusion a man dressed in English clothes, yet with a decidedly Turkish face, came out of the hotel and stood on the steps, watching them.
Brad was assisting Nadia to mount when she saw the watching man and gasped:
“There he is again!”
“Who?” asked the surprised Texan.
“The man who has been watching me lately.”
“There on the steps?”
“Yes.”
“Has he been annoying you?”
“I feel sure he has been following me and watching me.”
The boy from the Pan Handle country flushed and showed that he was angry.
“Wait a minute,” he urged. “I’ll just saunter up and inquire of the gent whatever he means.”
Nadia caught his sleeve.
“Don’t do that!” she whispered nervously. “Don’t do it, Brad!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t wish him to know that I have noticed him.”
“Well, if the galoot keeps up his little game, he’ll find out somebody has noticed him!”
She restrained the impulsive chap.
By this time all were ready. The boy drivers seized the chosen donkeys each by the tail, which they gave a twist, crying:
“Ah-ye, Reglay!”
Away went the little beasts, bearing their human burdens easily, while the boy drivers ran behind, clinging to the tails of the donkeys, which they seemed to manipulate for the purpose of guiding the animals.
The manner in which the tough little donkeys bore their burdens was really wonderful. Nadia was sympathetic toward the sprightly little beasts and kept asking her driver not to make the animal go so fast.
They turned from street to street. Some of the streets were very narrow, with picturesque overhanging balconies and latticed windows. They passed several mosques, which were adorned with slender and graceful minarets. They encountered Arabs, Egyptians and Turks. They passed handsome carriages and gayly caparisoned camels.
Suddenly they came upon two barefooted, running black men, who were dressed in flowing garments and carried wands in their hands. These runners shouted out something, and waved their wands.
Immediately each donkey driver gave a twist to the tail of his animal, and the faithful little beasts turned aside to permit a handsome landau to pass. The landau contained a very dignified and very pompous Pasha, who did not even deign to waste a glance on the common infidels.
They were glared at by a number of officers, wearing handsome uniforms and displaying silver-mounted weapons. They were scowled at by an Arab soldier with a musket, mounted on the back of a dromedary.
But their travels in the East had made them accustomed to strange sights, and no expressions of wonderment escaped them. Instead, they laughed and joked among themselves.
At last they came to the hill of the citadel, where they dismounted. The donkeys and their dusky boy drivers waited at the foot of the hill, while our friends climbed toward the huge fortress which towered above the city.
This fortress was most imposing in appearance.
The professor was not there to explain how the citadel came to be built, but Dick had posted himself about it and was able to answer all of Nadia’s questions. He told her how it was constructed in the seventh century by the victorious followers of the Prophet, headed by Saladin, the chivalrous foe of Richard the Lion Hearted. Saladin’s architect did not hesitate to bring thither blocks of stone from the palaces and temples of old Memphis, and to raze several smaller pyramids, besides removing the polished outer stones from the larger pyramids.
“Only for that,” said Dick, “it is not likely we would be able to climb the pyramids now. It robbed them of their greatest beauty.”
“That was a shame!” exclaimed Nadia. “What good did the old citadel do after all?”
“It was a fine place for one of the successors to Saladin, the crafty old viceroy, Mehemet Ali, to butcher the Mamelukes.”
“Oh, I’ve heard something about that. How did it happen?”
“It didn’t happen. It was one of the most crafty and cold-blooded butcheries known in history. You know the name Mameluke signifies White Slave. The founders of the Mamelukes were originally Circassians, who had been brought into slavery in this country. They gradually became favorites, but finally turned to tyrants. They had helped Mehemet Ali to secure his position of power, but he feared and distrusted them. He finally decided it was expedient to get rid of them. So he invited them to a great banquet, to be held in the citadel. They came without suspecting his bloody and treacherous purpose. There were nearly five hundred of them, magnificently dressed and mounted. When the great gate had closed behind them, and they could not retreat, the viceroy’s troops appeared on the walls and poured a withering fire on the entrapped Mamelukes. They were mowed down, men and horses, in a most horrible manner. Of all the Mamelukes only one escaped. He forced his horse to mount the heaped-up bodies of his bleeding comrades and their dying horses, and leaped the parapet, followed by a volley of bullets. In some manner he escaped untouched, although his horse fell beneath him. He fled into the desert.”
Nadia gazed at the grim walls of the citadel and shuddered.
“It seems that every historic spot is stained with crime,” she said.
They soon reached the top of the hill and found they were just in time to witness the glories of an Egyptian sunset.
The view from that elevation was most impressive. Below them, and near at hand, rose a great mass of delicate and graceful minarets, glittering in the last rays of the sun. The strange Oriental city huddled beyond, and then, as far as the eye could reach, wound the silver Nile, its shores on either side green with verdure.
Away to the west the sun was sinking into a violet sea of light. There lay the mighty desert, brown, barren, desolate – the desert with its dreaded sand storms and simooms.
On the edge of this desert they could see three mighty shapes, silhouetted against the sky – the Pyramids. They knew that for at least five thousand years those mysterious and marvelous monuments had been standing thus, casting their lengthening shadows across the eastern waste, as the sun sank to its nightly rest in the bosom of the desert.
Silence fell on them. They watched the sun go down, and it seemed that the orb of day had sunk in hopeless despair to rise no more. They were impressed by the mightiness of the universe, and they felt themselves mere ants amid the marvels of creation. It was a place and time to give them a just understanding of their own insignificance.
CHAPTER XXVI – SOME INTERESTING CONVERSATION
The sun was gone, blue shadows gathered, and night came stalking up from Syria and Arabia beyond the isthmus. So absorbed had our friends been by the splendid spectacle, that they had failed to give heed to their immediate surroundings.
Nadia was at Brad’s side. Suddenly she clutched his arm with a nervous movement.
“What is it?” he asked, seeming to awaken from a trance.
“That man! Look there!”
She made a gesture, and he looked in the direction indicated. Standing at an angle of the wall, where the shadows were upon him, was the same man to whom she had called his attention on the steps of the hotel.
“He has followed me here!” she declared nervously.
“Oh, he has, has he?” growled the Texan, his face flushing with anger. “Well, I sure am going to interview him some, right away.”
He brushed off her hand and started toward the mysterious stranger.
Immediately the unknown turned and disappeared beyond the corner of the wall.
Dick had seen the stranger, also, and he joined Buckhart at once, saying:
“Come ahead, Brad. It’s time to find out if he’s following us round.”
Budthorne had hastened to his sister’s side.
The boys ran to the point of the wall. When they reached the spot, they could see nothing of the man.
“He can’t be far away,” said Dick.
A few moments later they discovered the man walking hastily down the hill. Unless they chose to run after him, there was no prospect of overtaking him.
“Better let him go this time,” advised Dick.
“All right,” muttered the Texan; “but he is causing me to wax wroth some, and I’ll give him a game of talk the next time I find him dogging us. Who do you reckon he is, pard?”
“I am unable to answer the question,” admitted Dick; “but, by his appearance, he seems to be a Turk.”
“That’s right. I don’t fancy being spied on by a Turk, just at present. We’re not far enough away from Damascus. He may be one of the sultan’s secret police, sent after us for that little affair in which we were recently involved.”
“I thought of that myself. I’m not anxious to be arrested and carried back to Damascus.”
“I should say not! That would be mighty bad business. Still, I don’t think – ”
Dick checked his companion with an exclamation. Another man had joined the one who was rapidly descending the hill. Both boys obtained a glimpse of this second person before both disappeared into the shadows below.
“Did you see him, Brad?” asked Dick. “Did you get a fair view of him?”
“Just a look, partner, but I swear there was something a heap familiar about him. The way he carried his head – his walk – I’ve seen that galoot before.”
“And so have I. Shall we attempt to overtake them? I’d give something to get a look at his face.”
But they decided it was too late, as there was little chance of overtaking those men in the narrow and gloomy streets of Cairo. Besides, in order to pursue the mysterious ones, they would be compelled to abandon Nadia and her brother.
So they returned and found Dunbar and Nadia waiting, and a trifle nervous.
“It’s all right,” declared Dick diplomatically. “Of course, the man had a right to come up here and view the sunset. He’s gone.”
“I’m glad,” said the girl. “But it is growing dark. Let’s return to the hotel right away. I do not fancy being out in the streets of Cairo after dark.”
They descended the hill and found the donkeys and the boy drivers waiting for them. Two of the boys were asleep, their hands pillowed on the bodies of their reclining donkeys.
“Poor little fellows!” murmured Nadia, sympathetically. “They should be home now. It’s a shame to keep them out so late.”
The boys woke up promptly on hearing the voices of their companions. Our friends mounted, and away they went, through the dim streets of the queer, old city, the boys running after the trotting donkeys and giving an occasional twist at the tails of the little beasts.
Both Dick and Brad kept a sharp lookout for possible trouble, but the return to the hotel was made without incident.
Brad lingered to talk with Dunbar and Nadia, in Budthorne’s room. Not that the pleasures of a chat with Budthorne attracted him so much, but there was again a complete understanding between himself and Nadia.
Dick sought Professor Gunn, but failed to discover the old man. He then descended to look for him below.
On the way down, the sound of laughter coming from a suite of rooms, the outer door of which was slightly ajar, attracted his attention. He had heard Zenas laugh that way before, and he knew the old pedagogue was in there.
Dick stepped to the door, lifting his hand to knock. He paused, his hand uplifted.
“He! he! he!” again sounded that well-known laugh. “A harem containing a dozen pretty girls! My! my! But you must have been a gay boy in those days, colonel.”
“Well, suh,” said a mellow, yet somewhat husky voice, “yo’ see, suh, a man had to have some enjoyment in this infernal country. I was young, suh, and it was just after the Civil War in America. Scores of officers from the South entered the Egyptian service. Some swore nevah again to set foot on American soil. We felt that we were exiles. But we made the khedive’s army spruce up wonderfully. The pay was good, and all that; but the cursed heat, the monotony, the homesickness, made us all reckless, and set us to longing fo’ diversion. I’ll guarantee, suh, that the most of us found our only diversions in gathering wives fo’ our harems. Those boys were connoisseurs in female beauty, and the wives of many of them would have created a sensation, suh, in New York, London or Paris.”
“He! he! he!” again laughed Zenas. “Oh, you rascal! Oh, you sly dog! But it must have been pleasant. What did you do with your harem when you got tired and decided to leave the Egyptian service and the country?”
“Why, I sold it, of course.”
“Sold it? Sold your wives, colonel?”
“Certainly, suh. That was the proper course to pursue, professah. There were plenty of others who were ready to buy, in case you had a bargain to offah, and – as I was anxious to sell – a new recruit in the army obtained my harem fo’ a mere song. Of course, I regretted to part with my beautiful wives, and especially with Fatima, my favorite; but I could not take them with me, on account of the laws of the United States, and so, suh, I kissed Fatima good-by and turned the whole lot ovah to my successor.”
“Er – er – ahem! Colonel, does the custom of selling harems still continue in this country, can you say?”
“Why, certainly, suh, to a certain extent, suh. Are yo’ thinking of making a purchase, suh?”
“Well, I – er – ahem! – I don’t know, exactly. You see, I – I’m likely to investigate. I wouldn’t mind looking a few harems over. If I found a bargain – er – ahem! – I might – Well, you understand, colonel.”
“The old reprobate!” exclaimed Dick, in a whisper. “So this is what he’s up to! This is why he wants to take an excursion trip up the Nile! I think I’ll have to find a way to teach him a lesson.”
“Yes, suh,” said the voice of the professor’s companion; “I think I understand, suh. But it is possible, professah, that you do not understand yo’self, suh. When yo’ were a boy, did yo’ evah trade jackknives or anything of that sort, ‘unsight, unseen,’ suh?”
“Why, yes, I – ”
“Well, suh, that’s the rule in purchasing a harem. It is the law of the country, professah, that no one save the ownah of a harem shall evah see the uncovered faces of its inmates. If yo’ make a purchase, yo’ have to take a chance on it. Yo’ may see the ladies in advance, but yo’ll not be permitted to see their faces.”
“He! he!” again laughed Gunn. “That will make the game all the more fascinating. It adds an element of mystery and suspense. It piques me. If you don’t mind, colonel, I’ll have another nip from the decanter. I take it as a tonic, you know – merely as a tonic.”
“Certainly, suh; help yo’self, suh.”
“Do you think, colonel, that you might assist me in investigating a few harems?”
“Why, yes, suh, it is quite likely I might. Having an extensive acquaintance in Cairo, it will be easy fo’ me to help yo’. I’ll find out what harems are on the market, suh. Drink hearty, professah.”
“Well, here is luck and hoping I’ll strike a good bargain.”
Dick did not linger longer. He returned to his room and was just in time to find Brad coming in from Budthorne’s room.
“The old salamander!” cried the Texan, after listening to Dick’s story. “The old Mormon! Why, he’s married! He has a wife in the United States.”
“Exactly.”
“What does he think he’s doing, anyhow?”
“He thinks he’s going to have a gay time in Cairo, evidently.”
“We’ll have to stop it, pard.”
“Oh, no!”
“What?”
“On the contrary, we’ll have to help it along.”
“Hey?” shouted Buckhart, aghast. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“But it’s a crime! It’s scandalous! I’m astonished at you!”
“It’s not a crime in this country to be the proprietor of a harem.”
“But – ”
“We’re in Egypt, and the law of the land – ”
“Look here, Dick Merriwell,” blazed Brad, in sudden indignation. “I’ve generally backed you up in anything you’ve said or done; but, by the everlasting Rockies, if you’ve become so depraved and degenerate that you can regard an affair like this as anything but a crime, I want you to understand that I think you’ve lost your senses!”
Dick dropped on a chair and laughed heartily.
“I mean it!” roared the Texan. “It’s shameful! You hear me chirp! That doddering old chump has a wife in America! Now he wants to buy a harem in Egypt! And you’re willing to aid him in his polygamous design! Waugh! Laugh! laugh! But you’re not the sort of pard I took you for! This is my first disappointment in you! I’ll block the old roué’s game, I will! I’ll spoil his scheme, or I’m not the Unbranded Maverick of the Rio Pecos!”
The Texan was greatly wrought up. He stamped up and down the room in a tempest, while Merriwell continued to laugh.
“I don’t see where the joke comes in!” snarled Buckhart. “Ha, ha! Isn’t it funny? I suppose you’ll be in for buying a harem next? That’s a fine idea! Perhaps you’ll take a half interest in old Gunn’s bunch of beauties? Wow! I sure am a heap disgusted!”
“Cool down a little, Brad,” said Dick, still smiling. “I hardly think I’ll invest in a harem. Why, you excitable longhorn, don’t you know harems are not sold that way here?”
“Hey?”
“A man may purchase wives for his harem, but he can’t sell the whole outfit when he gets tired of it.”
“Can’t?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what – what – ”
“The whole thing is some kind of a game.”
“But you – you said you were going to help the business along.”
“So I am. I want to teach the professor a lesson.”
“I don’t think I catch on, Dick.”
“Let me tell you something.”
“Fire away.”
“To begin with, I don’t believe Colonel Stringer ever was in the Egyptian service.”
“Don’t you?”
“No. He’s a great bluffer. He likes to make people believe he has done wonderful things and been a gay old rascal in his day. I am satisfied that his story about having a harem once was pure fabrication.”
“Mebbe you’re right.”
“I’m confident of it.”
“What’s his graft?”
“Perhaps it’s graft, perhaps it’s joking. It may be that he simply enjoys leading the professor on. But I have a scheme. If we can carry it out, we’ll teach Zenas Gunn a lesson and have some fun on our own hook. He’ll never contemplate buying another harem.”
The Texan was keenly interested now.
“What’s the scheme, pard?”
“If we can rig up a job with Colonel Stringer, we’ll furnish a harem for the professor to purchase, and we’ll give him the shock of his life.”
Brad’s face began to glow and his eyes to gleam. His mouth expanded in a smile.
“Mebbe that’s a good idea,” he nodded. “Just tell me how it can be done.”
He drew up a chair and sat down near Dick. For fully thirty minutes the boys had their heads close together, talking in low tones.
At intervals Buckhart laughed heartily.
The professor came in and found them thus.
“What are you up to now, boys?” he asked. “What are you whispering about?”
“You will find out in time, professor,” answered Dick.
And both lads laughed.
CHAPTER XXVII – THE PROFESSOR’S GAME
Early in the afternoon of the following day, Professor Gunn informed Dick and Brad that he was going out with a friend to inspect some ancient Egyptian relics.
“Take us with you,” urged Merriwell.
“Do take us,” implored Buckhart.
“We’re interested in relics,” said Dick.
“Mightily interested,” affirmed Brad.
“No, no, boys,” said the old man, holding up his hands; “I can’t take you.”
“Why not?” they both demanded.
“Well – er – hem! – because you have not been invited, you see. These relics are a private collection, in a private house, and it is not the privilege of the general public to view them. I have obtained the privilege of looking them over only by great effort. It is a great concession to me on account of my standing as an educator in my own country. What I shall behold to-day will add greatly to my knowledge. I am sure I shall return, after examining the relics, a much wiser man. Hum! ha!”
“I hope you do, professor,” said Dick significantly, although the old pedagogue failed to note any underlying meaning in his words.
“Yes, I hope so,” put in Brad.
From their window, they watched until they saw the professor, accompanied by a small, quick-stepping man in brown, leave the hotel.
“There he goes with the colonel, pard,” said Buckhart. “We’ve got to move lively to get there ahead of them.”
“Colonel Stringer will look out for that. He’ll take plenty of time in conducting the professor by a roundabout course. Come on.”
They paused a moment to speak to Budthorne and Nadia, who were to remain at the hotel.
Near the hotel a close carriage of English make was waiting. They sprang in and were off. Here and there through the streets of Cairo they went, coming at last to a house in a quiet quarter.
The door of this house, set low and deep in the wall, opened for them as soon as they left the carriage.
A ruddy-faced Englishman, John Coddington by name, the Eastern agent of a London house, welcomed them as soon as they entered.
“You see I was expecting you, boys,” he said. “My friend, Stringer, told me when you would be likely to arrive.”
“Is everything ready?” asked Dick.
“Yes, indeed. I have a lot of prize beauties all ready for the game. Oh, they are fine ones!”
“But you must make us the champion beauties of them all,” said Merriwell.
“That’s whatever,” chuckled Brad. “We must be the peaches of your harem.”
“I’ll do my best. I have a customer waiting. Follow me.”
They passed through winding ways and came finally into a room where a little Frenchman waited, amid a collection of feminine garments.
“Here they are, Louis,” said Coddington. “Make them into handsome girls. Show your skill.”
“Make us handsome, with the exception of our faces,” said Dick “Those must be as hideous as possible.”
“But ze faces will be covaired by ze veils,” protested Louis.
“Not all the time,” smiled Dick. “Some one is going to get a peep beneath my veil.”
“Mine, too,” nodded Brad. “I want a mug on me that would scare a dog into a fit.”
“Vera well; eet s’all be. Get redee.”
“In the meantime, boys,” said Coddington, “I will be on the watch for the guest who is on the outlook for a harem.”
Some time later Colonel Stringer and Professor Gunn rapped at the door of the house.
They were not admitted by Coddington himself, but by a black man in flowing garments, who bowed obsequiously before the colonel and bade them follow him.
They were ushered into a large, luxuriously furnished room, with many divans and Turkish rugs, a fountain playing in the centre of the apartment, and a man in Eastern garments propped up amid some cushions, lazily smoking a hookah.
“My deah Coddington,” said Stringer, hastening toward the smoker and bowing low, “delighted! Permit me to present my friend, Professor Gunn, of America.”
The professor bowed after the fashion of Stringer.
“Deuced glad to know you, don’t you know,” drawled Coddington. “Is this the gentleman, colonel, who is looking for a harem?”
“The same, suh,” nodded Stringer.
“Well, by Jove! I believe I’ve got the very thing he wants. I have the finest harem in the East, you know. Fourteen wives, in all, and every one a pearl. Ya-as.”
“But why do you wish to sell out, sir?” questioned Gunn.
“It’s become a deuced bore, don’t you understand. Besides that, I must return to England soon, and I can’t take my beauties with me. It would be quite scandalous there. I’d find myself arrested, don’t you know. So I have to dispose of my dear little doves. It breaks my heart, but I can’t do anything different. If you want a harem, professor, that outrivals anything in the East, you’ll get it right here, and get it for a song, too.”
Now, it is best to confess the actual truth right here. Professor Gunn had no intention of buying a harem. What the old boy wanted was to get inside a harem – to see it and get a peep at the “Eastern houris,” as he had heard them called. And he took this method of getting in.
The professor was congratulating himself on his cleverness.
“Eh, eh, ahem!” coughed the old pedagogue. “I’ve always been somewhat shy of bargains that can be obtained for a mere song. I always favor inspecting whatever I purchase.”
“Then be seated,” invited Coddington, motioning toward the heaped-up cushions at his side. “Sit here, professor, and you shall see some of the sights of the harem.”
The professor hastened to deposit himself amid the cushions, chuckling inwardly over his success.
Colonel Stringer accepted a seat on the opposite side of the professed owner of the harem.
Coddington clapped his hands.
Immediately a huge black man, dressed in gaudy, barbaric clothes, his head turbaned, his feet bare, appeared from somewhere and bowed low before the Englishman.
“Bring hookahs for my visitors,” said Coddington, “and bid my dancing girls appear and dance for me.”
The black man bowed sweepingly again, and hastily disappeared.
Almost immediately two boys, clothed in purple, entered, bearing hookahs, which they placed before the professor and the colonel. When the visitors were ready to smoke, the boys lighted the hookahs.
“He! he!” laughed Zenas, as he puffed away. “Makes one feel decidedly kinky and chipper. I’m not much of a smoker, but I – ough! ugah! ugah! agoo-ugah! – hah! Whew!”
He had taken some of the smoke into his lungs, and it nearly strangled him. He continued to cough for some time, but suddenly stopped and rubbed the water from his eyes.
Out upon the tiled floor before them glided a number of graceful figures, girls in diaphanous draperies, which fluttered in the air, light as azure. These girls were swaying, bending, dancing, their arms waving in the air, their feet moving swiftly to the sound of tiny, tinkling bells and the throb of a strange, unnatural music. The music was produced by a number of musicians who mysteriously appeared, seated on the floor at one side.
The faces of the girls were hidden by veils, which were bound down lightly, to keep them from fluttering aside with their swaying movements and exposing their features.
Zenas gazed and gasped.
“Great Cæsar!” he muttered. “This being the proprietor of a harem is great!”
The girls continued their dance, and to the old pedagogue every movement was full of poetry. They advanced, retreated, pirouetted, their arms waving from side to side above their heads, their heads swaying, their garments fluttering, their veils hiding their features, yet seeming to show glimpses of dark, flashing eyes beyond.
The professor forgot to smoke; he forgot to breathe; he forgot to do anything but stare.
How long the dance continued, he was unable to say, but finally Coddington clapped his hands, and away glided the girls, as graceful as phantoms, and like phantoms they vanished.
The musicians vanished in the same silent manner.
A great sigh of regret came from Gunn.
“Well, professor,” said Coddington, “how did that hit you?”
“Great!” was the enthusiastic answer. “How often do they perform?”
“Whenever I bid them. I keep them to amuse me.”
“Shade of Absalom! If I owned this harem, I’d tire them out dancing. What’s next on the program?”
“I will call in some of my wives.”
“Were there any in that bevy?”
“Oh, no; those are nothing but dancing girls. The ladies of the harem are more select and beautiful.”
“Call them! You can’t hurry them too much to suit me.”
“But there are certain rules to which I must conform, else I forfeit my rights. You know, the ladies of the harem never enter this room when more than one man is present. If I call them, it will be necessary for the colonel and myself to retire.”
“And leave me alone with them?” gasped Zenas.
“Yes. I will send you my two favorites, the greatest beauties of the harem. I have taught them both to speak English, although they do so somewhat imperfectly, and they have picked up several expressions of which I do not approve. No matter what they say, you must understand that they are complimenting you.”
“All right,” said the professor, a bit doubtfully. “But are there only two?”
“Only two? How many do you want? There are plenty of them, but you understand that the two I shall send are the reigning belles of the harem. They are marvelously beautiful.”
“Well, I – I don’t know about being left alone,” muttered the old fellow nervously. “Can’t it be arranged some other way?”
“Why, I thought you might wish to be alone with them. As I have said, the colonel and I must leave the room, as no man save yourself may be present; but I can send in the dancing girls again and let them dance while you are chatting with my favorites.”
“Do so, do so,” urged Zenas, in relief. “That is a good idea.”
“Very well. I hope you may be pleased; and do not forget that I am willing and ready to dispose of my harem at a most reasonable price. By Jove! I’ll almost give the whole outfit away!”
Coddington and Stringer retired, having seen the professor take the seat of honor in the midst of the cushions.
The old man was rather nervous, but he endeavored to remain calm and dignified.
Finally a low burst of musical laughter came to his ears, causing him to brace up. A moment later, hand in hand, two persons entered the room and advanced swiftly, bowing low before the professor, their foreheads touching the tiling.
