“When will they be accomplished?” enquired Aunt Lucy, in brisk, matter-of-fact tones.
“Ahem! That I cannot say, to a day, my dear Mrs. Higgins. The fact is, I’ve sent David twice to the Khan, with demands in writing for an interview. But David can’t get within a mile of the Khan, notwithstanding his impressive costume—which cost eight fillibees, native money.”
“The Khan,” added the doctor musingly, “is quite an exclusive personage. His Highness’ guards have threatened to tattoo our dear David unless he ceases to bother them.”
David groaned, thereby concurring in this statement.
“Then what is to be done?” asked Janet, who had displayed a lively interest in her father’s discourse.
The Colonel shook his head, rather despondently.
“What do you suggest, David?” asked the doctor.
David had been earnestly regarding the cabinet in which his gold was stored. Now, however, being addressed, he reluctantly withdrew his eyes from the vicinity of his treasure, heaved a deep sigh as if awakening from a happy dream, and said:
“Vy nod try de vizier?”
“What vizier?”