The governor, looking very grave, was the first to speak.
“He says there is no slave trade in Egypt and no slave market in Assûan,” interrupted Talhamy.
Now, we had been told in Cairo, on excellent authority, that slaves were still bought and sold here, though less publicly than of old; and that of all the sights a traveler might see in Egypt, this was the most curious and pathetic.
“No slave market!” we repeated, incredulously.
The governor, the kadi and the mudîr shook their heads, and lifted up their voices, and said all together, like a trio of mandarins in a comic opera:
“Là, là, là! Mafeesh bazaar—mafeesh bazaar!” (“No, no, no! No bazaar—no bazaar!”)
We endeavored to explain that in making this inquiry we desired neither the gratification of an idle curiosity, nor the furtherance of any political views. Our only object was sketching. Understanding, therefore, that a private bazaar still existed in Assûan——
This was too much for the judicial susceptibilities of the kadi. He would not let Talhamy finish.
“There is nothing of the kind,” he interrupted, puckering his face into an expression of such virtuous horror as might become a reformed New Zealander on the subject of cannibalism. “It is unlawful—unlawful.”
An awkward silence followed. We felt we had committed an enormous blunder, and were disconcerted accordingly.