Retief puffed at his cigar, eyeing the Aga Kagan cheerfully. The youth in the rear moved forward, teeth bared.
"Never give in to the fool, lest he say, 'He fears me,'" Retief said.
"I cannot restrain my men in the face of your insults," the bearded Aga Kagan roared. "These hens of mine have feathers—and talons as well!"
"When God would destroy an ant, he gives him wings," Retief said. "Distress in misfortune is another misfortune."
The bearded man's face grew purple.
Retief dribbled the ash from his cigar over the side of the car.
"Now I think we'd better be getting on," he said briskly. "I've enjoyed our chat, but we do have business to attend to."
The bearded leader laughed shortly. "Does the condemned man beg for the axe?" he enquired rhetorically. "You shall visit the Aga Kaga, then. Move on! And make no attempt to escape, else my gun will speak you a brief farewell."
The horsemen glowered, then, at a word from the leader, took positions around the car. Georges started the vehicle forward, following the leading rider. Retief leaned back and let out a long sigh.
"That was close," he said. "I was about out of proverbs."