"Not he! I was hardly more than a child when he saw me, just that once; and he was too busy with my father to notice me."
"Truly you are bold with an exceeding great boldness. But so it shall be. Gather up the basin, and soap, and the brush, and two razors, and the strop. I will bid my neighbour have an eye to the shop, and we will go together."
CHAPTER IV
THE SHAVING OF BURCKHARDT
Major Cornelius Burckhardt was quartered in an old house not far from Firouz Ali's shop. He occupied two rooms on the ground floor, the bedroom opening from the sitting-room. It was into the latter that the barber and Yusuf his apprentice, having been admitted to the outer courtyard by the doorkeeper, were ushered by the major's servant, who bade them wait there, and disappeared into the room beyond.
Burnet looked around with curiosity and amusement. The appointments of the room bespoke a blend of archæologist and military officer. In the centre stood a roll-top desk, open, and strewn with maps and papers: Major Burckhardt, although unshaved, had already been at work. Military accoutrements, hanging from pegs on the wall, dangled above a table strewn with potsherds, fragments of tiles, tablets, and other objects unearthed from Babylonian ruins. Images, large and small, all very much damaged, were ranged on the floor around the walls. Across one corner was a stone screen nearly six feet high, strangely carved, and chipped at the edges.
The servant having left the bedroom door half open, his announcement of the barber's arrival was clearly heard in the outer room. A husky voice, speaking Arabic with a strong guttural accent, bade him show the man in. Firouz Ali, closely followed by Burnet carrying his utensils, entered, bowing low, and giving the customary salutation, "Salaam aleikam!" to which the German suitably responded.
"My barber is sick," he went on. "I sent for you, knowing you to be skilful with the razor."
"May your excellency——" began Firouz Ali.