It's quite good enough for me when it isn't lumbered up like this. I'm expecting friends to dinner this evening, and how the deuce am I to entertain them comfortably unless you make it possible for me?
Fakrash.
[Benevolently.] Have no uneasiness. I will see that thou art enabled to entertain thy guests as is fitting.
Horace.
Good! [At window.] Then you'll send for that caravan of yours?
Fakrash.
I hear and obey.
[He goes towards door at back and waves his hand. The door flies open. The chant is heard as before. A pause, after which the Head Slave enters and salaams. Then the train of black slaves pour in noiselessly, and proceed to carry out the chests, &c., and throw the bales out over the balcony.
Horace.
[Encouraging them.] That's right! All those are to go. Put your back into it! [To some slaves who are throwing down bales from the balcony.] Do be careful! You nearly bowled a camel over that time! [The last slave has gone out with a sack from which an immense blue jewel has rolled; Horace picks it up and calls after him.] Hi! You've dropped a little sapphire thing! [The Head Slave takes the sapphire from him and salaams.] Sure you've got the lot? All right! Good day! [The Head Slave makes a final salaam and goes out, the door closing after him mysteriously; Horace approaches Fakrash.] It's awfully nice of you not to be offended, old fellow, and I'm just as much obliged as if I'd kept the things, you know.