The professor burst into a hearty fit of laughter, in which the old lawyer joined, and then took snuff and snapped his fingers till both his companions sneezed.
“I say,” cried Lawrence, “isn’t it cruel of you two, laughing at a poor fellow for what he cannot help.”
He looked so piteously at them that they both grew serious directly.
“Why, my dear boy,” cried Mr Preston, “can you not see that you keep on overtasking yourself? Growing worse! Now, be reasonable; you had to be carried down to the fly in London; the porters carried you to the first-class carriage in which you went down by rail, and you were carried to the steamer.”
“Yes,” said Lawrence sadly; “that is true, but I did not feel so weak as this.”
“Get out, you young cock-goose!” cried Mr Burne. “Why, you have been bathing, and you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”
“And you are mistaking fatigue for weakness,” said the professor.
“Of course,” cried Mr Burne. “Why, look here. You were out nearly all day yesterday with us or with Yussuf looking at ruins, going over the place, and seeing about the horses, and now, as soon as you woke this morning, you were off with Preston here to kick and splash about in the water. Weak? what nonsense! Oh, here’s Yussuf. Here, hi! you grand Turk, what do you say about this boy? He thinks he is not so well.”
“The young effendi?” cried Yussuf. “Oh! I have been out this morning to see some other horses, excellencies, that are far better than any we have yet seen. They are rough, sturdy little fellows from the mountains, and you ought to buy these.”
“Buy or hire?” said the professor.