“Come,” continued Mr Burne, “you surely do not bear malice because a tired man who was in great pain said a few hasty words. The belt has really fretted and chafed me. I am ready to trust in your sincerity; will you not trust in mine?”
Yussuf’s countenance lit up, and he caught Mr Burne’s hand in his, and raised it to his lips hastily, after which he opened his loose robe and carefully buckled the money-belt within his inner garment.
“That’s the way,” cried Mr Burne cheerily; and he looked happier and more relieved himself; “and look here, Yussuf, I’m a curious suspicious sort of fellow, who has had dealings with strange people all his life. I believe in you, I do indeed, and whenever you find me saying unpleasant things, you’ll know my back’s bad, and that I don’t mean it. And now, for goodness’ sake, let’s get to some civilised place where we can have a cup of coffee and a glass of wine. Preston, old fellow, I’d give a sovereign now for a good well-cooked mutton-chop—I mean four sovereigns for four—one a-piece. I’m not a greedy man.”
Lawrence went forward to Yussuf’s side, and these two led the way, along by the purple sea, which was now flashing in the morning sun, and the delicious air made the travellers feel inspirited, and ready to forget all discomforts as they tramped on in search of a village, while, before they had gone far, Mr Burne turned his dry face to the professor and said:
“Well, did that do?”
“My dear Burne,” cried the professor, “I am just beginning to know you. It was admirable.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the old lawyer, who then blew a sounding blast upon his nose. “I am beginning to think that a neater form of apology to a man—a foreign heretic sort of a man—was never offered.”
“It could not have been better. What do you think, Lawrence?” he added as the latter halted to let his elders catch up, Yussuf going on alone.
“I don’t know what you were talking about,” he replied.
“Mr Burne’s apology. I say it was magnificent.”