"Quick, the devil man is doing more bad things."
We ran down the road beyond the village and saw him in the distance dancing on an old Turk's bare feet with hobnailed boots, alternating this amusement with cuffs on the face. We sprinted along, and seeing a convenient little river wriggling along by the roadside, Jan caught him by the neck and the seat of his trousers, swung him round, and pitched him in. The man sat for a moment, bewildered, in the water, and then climbed out uttering dreadful oaths; but as he came up Jan knocked him into the water again.
Men in firemen's uniforms appeared from all sides, shouting—
"What are you doing? You mustn't. Who are you?"
"We know the governor," said Jo. The men were making gestures of deference when the reprobate rushed from the river, aiming a whirling blow at Jan which missed.
The men hurled themselves on him, but he grabbed Jan's coat to which he clung, howling in unexpected English—
"Shake 'ands wi' y' ennemi." Suddenly everybody spoke English, and we wondered into what sort of a fairy tale had we fallen.
It was lunch time so we did not stay for explanations, but hurried back to the town with the weeping old Turk, gave him our small change, which seemed to cure the pains in his feet, and hunted for the other hotel.
It was tucked away in a romantic back street. The bar room was tiny, but it was very pleasant to sit round little tables under shady trees in the courtyard.