The thirty-foot camels intelligently swerved to bring Abdul’s litter close. And even so soon, Abdul had attuned himself to react instantly to a call in Tony’s voice. Instantly the drapes were torn aside. Abdul beamed across the space between litters.
But for half a breath Tony did not recognize him. Abdul swaggered, of course—but that was part of his personality. It was his form which was strangely unfamiliarly familiar. He was, in fact, a duplicate of Tony. He wore exact facsimiles of Tony’s soft felt hat, his belted-in-the-back camel’s-hair topcoat, and undoubtedly his feet were encased in duplicates of Tony’s brown shoes. But the face was still the face of Abdul, and it beamed.
Behind him, in the litter, Nasim also beamed at Tony.
“Majesty!” cried Abdul happily. “What is your will?” Tony stared—and inspiration struck.
“That is Nasim, isn’t it?” he demanded.
“Yes, Majesty,” called Nasim archly. She came and stood beside Abdul. “Look! Doesn’t he look just like you? Isn’t he wonderful?”
Tony said sternly:
“It was my thought that I had not yet rewarded Nasim for her aid in the fight with Es-Souk. I see that she has chosen her reward. It is my will that the two of you marry!”
Nasim giggled. Abdul bowed so low that he almost fell out of the litter.
“To hear is to obey, Majesty!”