II
The donkey-boys were sitting outside the garden gate of the hotel. Mahmoud was against the wall, and taking little part in the flow of conversation.
“Achmet Effendi will make a big feast to-morrow,” said one. “He has killed two sheep for his feast.”
“Achmet Effendi is a very rich man,” said Maouad. “Twenty years ago he sent his servant Gameel Gameel to dig up stones to burn and lay on his field, there where the English ‘sidi matre’ (cemetery) is. But Gameel Gameel found a big pot of golden coins and he brought them all back to Achmet Effendi. For ten years they kept them hidden, then Achmet Effendi sold them for much money and became a rich man. That is why he loves Gameel Gameel better than his son.”
“Gameel Gameel was a great fool,” said Hassan flippantly. “Why should he not become a rich man himself?”
Kuku was speaking aside to Gorgius.
“I tell my lady that I am going to be married to Fatma. I say to her: ‘I see Fatma in the market; I like her very much and she likes me very much. My mother has arranged it for me. If you give me an English handkerchief,’ I say to my lady, ‘you shall come to my wedding.’”
“Liar-boy!” said Gorgius scornfully; but Mahmoud feared and sighed in himself.
A small figure passed, and the light from the gas lamp showed a withered old man with a white beard and smiling face. He wore a red tarbûsh turbaned about with white, and trailed a green Mecca robe.
“Mohammed Mohassib will have a big feast,” said one. “He has killed a camel and made soup with it. The Father of the Beard said to Mohammed, ‘You will feed three hundred men to-morrow.’ Mohammed said, ‘I hope more than that.’”