The Wanderer drove to Keyork Arabian’s house, and leaving his carriage to wait in case of need, ascended the stairs and knocked at the door. For some reason or other Keyork would not have a bell in his dwelling, whether because, like Mahomet, he regarded the bell as the devil’s instrument, or because he was really nervously sensitive to the sound of one, nobody had ever discovered. The Wanderer knocked therefore, and Keyork answered the knock in person.
“My dear friend!” he exclaimed in his richest and deepest voice, as he recognised the Wanderer. “Come in. I am delighted to see you. You will join me at supper. This is good indeed!”
He took his visitor by the arm and led him in. Upon one of the tables stood a round brass platter covered, so far as it was visible, with Arabic inscriptions, and highly polished—one of those commonly used all over the East at the present day for the same purpose. Upon this were placed at random several silver bowls, mere hemispheres without feet, remaining in a convenient position by their own weight. One of these contained snowy rice, in that perfectly dry but tender state dear to the taste of Orientals, in another there was a savoury, steaming mess of tender capon, chopped in pieces with spices and aromatic herbs, a third contained a pure white curd of milk, and a fourth was heaped up with rare fruits. A flagon of Bohemian glass, clear and bright as rock-crystal, and covered with very beautiful traceries of black and gold, with a drinking-vessel of the same design, stood upon the table beside the platter.
“My simple meal,” said Keyork, spreading out his hands, and smiling pleasantly. “You will share it with me. There will be enough for two.”
“So far as I am concerned, I should say so,” the Wanderer answered with a smile. “But my business is rather urgent.”
Suddenly he saw that there was a third person in the room, and glanced at Keyork in surprise.
“I want to speak a few words with you alone,” he said. “I would not trouble you but——”
“Not in the least, not in the least, my dear friend!” asseverated Keyork, motioning him to a chair beside the board.
“But we are not alone,” observed the Wanderer, still standing and looking at the stranger. Keyork saw the glance and understood. He broke into peals of laughter.
“That!” he exclaimed, presently. “That is only the Individual. He will not disturb us. Pray be seated.”