And he retired with salaam upon salaam.
And Master Ghizla, in the palm-garden, pretending to be busy with the little canal, but in reality full of eagerness to know the result of Caleb’s advice, whispered:
“I say!... Brother!...”
“Well, Caleb, well?” asked Ghizla, anxiously and looking a little pale.
“They’re hiring the thalamegus ... they’re alighting at no other diversorium ... they’re sleeping in our tents, they’ll travel with our camels and....”
“Well, Caleb, and what else?” asked Ghizla, rubbing his hands.
“They’re drinking our wines ... all the way to Napata!”
“Where you’ll pretend to lay in a fresh stock of liqueurs?”
“You leave that to me, Brother Ghizla, you just leave it to me!”