‘Let us dine,’ proposed the Negro.
‘Ay! under this plane-tree,’ said Calidas. ‘‘Tis pleasant to be alone. I hate everybody but ourselves.’
‘Here stop, you rascal,’ said the Guebre. ‘What’s your name?’
‘I am a Hadgee,’ said our old friend Abdallah, the servant of the charitable merchant Ali, and who was this day one of the officiating stewards.
‘Are you a Jew, you scoundrel?’ said the Guebre, ‘that is the only thing worth being. Bring some wine, you accursed Giaour!’
‘Instantly,’ said Kisloch, ‘and a pilau.’ ‘And a gazelle stuffed with almonds,’ said Calidas. ‘And some sugar-plums,’ said the Negro. ‘Quick, you infernal Gentile, or I’ll send this javelin in your back,’ hallooed the Guebre.
The servile Abdallah hastened away, and soon bustled back, bearing two flagons of wine, and followed by four servants, each with a tray covered with dainties.
‘Where are you going, you accursed scoundrels?’ grumbled Kisloch; ‘wait upon the true believers.’ ‘We shall be more free alone,’ whispered Calidas. ‘Away, then, dogs,’ growled Kisloch. Abdallah and his attendants hurried off, but were soon summoned back.
‘Why did you not bring Schiraz wine?’ asked Calidas, with an eye of fire.
‘The pilau is overdone,’ thundered Kisloch. ‘You have brought a lamb stuffed with pistachio-nuts, instead of a gazelle with almonds,’ said the Guebre.