“And where would you get your builders and your tenants?”
“Humph! Hah! I never thought of that. But really, Preston, what a disgraceful thing it is that such a lovely country should go to ruin! Hah! here’s breakfast.”
For at that moment their host came in, and in a short time good bread, butter, yaourt or curd, coffee, and honey in the comb were placed before them, and somehow, after a good night’s rest, the travellers did not find the owner of the house so very evil-looking.
“Oh, no, effendi, he is not a bad fellow. He bears no malice,” said Yussuf, “these men are used to it. They get so terribly robbed by everyone who comes through the village that they refuse help on principle till they are obliged to give it, when they become civil.”
“He is pleasant enough this morning,” said Mr Burne. “The man seems well off, too.”
“Yes, effendi, he is rich for a man of his station. And now I have news for the effendi Preston.”
“News? Not letters surely?” said the professor.
“No, effendi; but there are ruins close by across the valley. An old city and burying-place is yonder, this man tells me. Nobody ever goes there, because the people say that it is inhabited by djins and evil spirits, so that no one dares to go and fetch away the stones.”
The professor rubbed his hands gleefully, and Mr Burne dropped the corners of his lips as he helped himself to some more yaourt.
“How are you getting on with this stuff, Lawrence?” he said.