"Stop, stop!" exclaimed the Irishman. "The other side of the curtain are two——"
Before he could complete the sentence, the curtain was dragged aside, and two armed negroes appeared.
Their appearance was sudden and startling.
Each carried a drawn sword, a scimitar of formidable size.
They looked about as ugly customers as you would wish to see.
"Two eunuchs," whispered the Irishman, "they are guarding the seraglio. Come away."
"Ugly enough for heathen gods," whispered Harry Girdwood.
The two eunuchs stood like statues on guard.
The slipper merchant said something to them in Turkish which appeared to satisfy them.
"Massa Jack," whispered Tinker, who was one of the party, tugging at his young master's sleeve, "Massa Jack."