The bashaw grinned at him like a fiend, and demanding the flute to be handed to him, held it up before the eyes of the whole court.
"Be witness all," he exclaimed, "that yonder obstinate Frank despises our clemency, and refuses to redeem this flute, his property."
"That flute is not his property, it is mine," cried a voice from the crowd.
At the same moment a portly Turk, in a red fez cap, pressed forward.
He was recognised at once as Kallum Beg, a Turk of distinction, but who at times had to be treated as a madman.
"That flute is mine, O noble bashaw!" he repeated.
The judge winked and blinked, and seemed greatly perplexed at this unexpected declaration.
"Yours?" he echoed, at length.
"Yes, your highness. I was robbed of it a week since."
"And that lying son of Shitan told us he bought it for twenty-five pounds."