"What now?"
"Dat one ob de beasts what chuck de pusson in de water alive in de sack, sar."
"What!" ejaculated Harry Girdwood.
"Fack, Massa Harry," said Tinker, stoutly. "Guess I know dat ugly brack niggar, sar, a tousan' mile off—beast!"
"Come on. Don't appear to notice them," said the Irishman. "It's awkward work now. If they had half a suspicion, they would drop on us right and left, and not leave a limb on either one of our blessed bodies."
He led the way until they came to a gallery that overlooked the seraglio.
Their leader now warned them to keep silent.
In the chamber below were about a dozen Turkish ladies, all unveiled.
They were all gorgeously attired, and lolling about in indolent attitudes, as if life were an indescribable bore to them.
Upon a square fringed carpet in the middle of the room a Circassian girl of rare beauty and perfect symmetry was gliding through a graceful dance, to a low, melodious measure, which another girl of her own country was chanting.