On entering the main cabin Horace found that its appearance, like that of the rest of the ship, had been completely altered, all the handsome fittings had been removed, and the whole of the woodwork painted with what he thought must have been a mixture of white paint and mud, so dirty and dingy did it appear.
“Now, father, in the first place I must properly introduce my friend Ahmed to you all. He is the son of Osman Bey, who was one of the principal Turks of the party we took to Tenedos, as no doubt you remember; it is to him and his father, aided by Fazli Bey, and the bimbashi who was in command of the troops, and some of the soldiers, that we owe our lives.”
THE DOCTOR TELLS THE STORY
This was said in Greek, and while Mr. Beveridge was expressing his gratitude to Ahmed, Horace repeated the same in English to the three officers, who warmly shook hands with the young Turk. Marco and his brother placed refreshments of all kinds on the table.
Ahmed partook of them sparingly, and then said to Horace: “Of course you will not be returning with me now. I think I had better be going on, it will be dark before I have done my business and get back again; and besides, the boatmen will be wondering at my long stay here.”
“I am afraid your father will think us horribly ungrateful if we go off without thanking him and your mother for all their kindness to us,” Horace said; “but of course we must be getting out of this as soon as we can.”
“My father and mother will be delighted to hear that you have so suddenly and unexpectedly got out of your difficulties,” Ahmed said, “and that in a manner from which no suspicion can possibly arise to us. What we have done has been but a small return for the service you rendered us.”
Mr. Beveridge added his warmest thanks to those of Horace, and Ahmed then went up with the others on to the deck and took his place in the caique; Horace making a present of a small gold piece to each of the boatmen. Ahmed said good-bye to him and the doctor in Turkish, expressing the hope that when they got back to Cyprus they would write to him, a message that Iskos afterwards translated to Horace. As soon as he had rowed away the rest of them returned to the cabin.
“And now for the story,” Mr. Beveridge said as they took their places round the table.