"I was imploring Allah to soften his unmerciful heart, when suddenly he burst through the partition, which was thin——"
"No, no, no, your worship," interrupted Mr. Figgins, vehemently, "it was he who burst through, not me."
"Silence," cried the bashaw; "dare not to interrupt the words of truth."
"But they're not words of truth, your worship; they're abominable—false."
"Silence, dog," shouted the potentate, crimson with anger.
"Silence, dog," echoed the rest of the judicial body.
"Continue, plaintiff."
"Well, your highness," went on Bosja, "he then seized me violently, tore my turban from my head, and endeavoured to thrust his diabolical, 'too-tooing' instrument down my throat."
"To which you objected?"
"Strongly, your highness. I seized the flute in self-defence, and it came in half in my hand, and he then dragged me from the room, and with gigantic strength, hurled me backwards down the stairs."