Crawford, leaning heavily on the pilgrim staff, drifted over to the other. "Quiet, O young one," he said. "I wish to listen to the words of the girl who tells of the teachings of the great El Hassan."
The other turned angrily on him. "Be silent thyself, old man!" He raised a hand as though to cuff the American.
Homer Crawford neatly rapped him on the right shin bone with his quarterstaff to the other's intense agony. The women who witnessed the brief spat dissolved in laughter at the plight of the younger man. Homer Crawford drifted away again before the heckler recovered.
He let Isobel handle the bulk of the reverse-rabble rousing. His bit was to come later, and as yet he didn't want to reveal himself to the throngs.
They went from one gathering place of women to another. To the spice market, to the fish and meat market, to the bathing and laundering locations along the river. And everywhere they found animated groups of women, Isobel went into her speech.
At one point, while Homer stood idly in the crowd, feeling its temper and the extent to which the girl was dominating them, he felt someone press next to him.
A voice said, "What is the plan of operation, Yank?"
Homer Crawford's eyebrows went up and he shot a quick glance at the other. It was Rex Donaldson of the Commonwealth African Department. The operative who worked as the witchman, Dolo Anah. Crawford was glad to see him. This was Donaldson's area of operations, the man must have got here almost as soon as Crawford's team, when he had heard of the trouble.
Crawford said in English, "They've been gathering for an outbreak of violence, evidently directed at the Reunited Nations projects administration buildings. I've seen a few banners calling for El Hassan to come to power, Africa for the Africans, that sort of thing."