“You forget, Mr. Ganz, that I am so fortunate as to possess a number of valuable objects of virtue. I would think twice before attempting to carry those objects of virtue through the country of our excellent friends the Beni Lam Arabs!”
Ganz laughed.
“Your objects of virtue could very well be left with me. What if the English should go into the war?”
“The English? Go into the war? Never fear! This is not their affair. And if it were, what could they do? Sail their famous ships up the Rhine and the Elbe? Besides, that treacherous memory of yours seems to fail you again. This is Persia, not England.”
“Perhaps,” answered Ganz. “But the English are very funny people. There is a rumour, you know, of pourparlers. What if you were to sail down to the Gulf and some little midshipman were to fire a shot across your bow?”
“Ah, bah! I am a neutral! And Britannia is a fat old woman! Also a rich one, who doesn’t put her hand into her pocket to please her neighbours. Besides, I have a little affair with the Sheikh of Mohamera—objects of virtue, indigo, who knows what? As you know, I am a versatile man.” And swinging around on his stool, Magin began to play again.
“But even fat old women sometimes know how to bite,” objected Ganz.
“Not when their teeth have dropped out,” Magin threw over his shoulder—“or when strong young men plug their jaws!”
VI
Two days later, or not quite three days later, the galley and the motor-boat whose accidental encounter brought about the events of this narrative met again. This second meeting took place in the Karun, as before, but at a point some fifty or sixty miles below Bund-i-Kir. And now the moon, not the sun, cast its paler glitter between the high dark banks of the stream.