“No, don’t, please, Mr Burne,” said Lawrence warmly, and with his cheeks flushing, “I am sure she is very nice when you come to know her.”
“Can’t be,” cried the lawyer. “A woman who advocates fire and sword. Bah!”
“But as a protection against fire and sword,” said the professor laughing.
“Tchah, sir! stuff!” cried the other. “Look here; I can be pretty fierce when I like, and with you so big and strong, and with such a way with you as you have—Bah! nonsense, sir, we shall want no arms.”
“Well, I propose that we now consult the landlord.”
“Oh, just as you like, sir; but if he advocates such a proceeding, I’m not going to stalk through Turkey carrying fire-irons in my belt and over my shoulder, like a sham footpad in a country show.”
The landlord was summoned—a frank-looking Englishman, who listened to all the professor said in silence and then replied:
“Mr Thompson the consul is quite right, sir. We are not in England here, and though this is the nineteenth century the state of the country is terribly lawless. You know the old saying about when at Rome.”
“Do as the Romans do, eh?”
“Exactly, sir. Every second man you meet here even in the town goes armed, even if his weapons are not seen, while in the country—quite in the interior, it is the custom to wear weapons.”