“I suppose I may rely on your secrecy respecting what has passed?”
“Secrecy?” and El-Râmi raised his black eyebrows disdainfully. “What you call secrecy I know not. But if you mean that I shall speak of you and your affairs,—why, make yourself quite easy on that score. I shall not even think of you after you have left this room. Do not attach too much importance to yourself, reverend sir,—true, your name will soon be mentioned in the newspapers, but this should not excite you to an undue vanity. As for me, I have other things to occupy me, and clerical ‘cases of conscience,’ such as yours, fail to attract either my wonder or admiration!” Here he touched the bell.—“Féraz!” this as his young brother instantly appeared—“The door!”
The Reverend Francis Anstruther took up his hat, looked into it, glanced nervously round at the picturesque form of the silent Féraz, then, with a sudden access of courage, looked at El-Râmi. That handsome Oriental’s fiery eyes were fixed upon him,—the superb head, the dignified figure, the stately manner, all combined to make him feel uncomfortable and awkward; but he forced a faint smile—it was evident he must say something.
“You are a very remarkable man, Mr. ... El-Râmi”—he stammered. ... “It has been a most interesting ... and ... instructive morning!”
El-Râmi made no response other than a slight frigid bow.
The clergyman again peered into the depths of his hat.
“I will not go so far as to say you were correct in anything you said”—he went on—“but there was a little truth in some of your allusions,—they really applied, or might be made to apply, to past events,—bygone circumstances ... you understand? ...”
El-Râmi took one step towards him.
“No more lies in Heaven’s name!” he said in a stern whisper. “The air is poisoned enough for to-day. Go!”
Such a terrible earnestness marked his face and voice that the Reverend Francis retreated abruptly in alarm, and, stumbling out of the room hastily, soon found himself in the open street with the great oaken door of El-Râmi’s house shut upon him. He paused a moment, glanced at the sky, then at the pavement, shook his head, drew a long breath, and seemed on the verge of hesitation; then he looked at his watch,—smiled a bland smile, and, hailing a cab, was driven to lunch at the Criterion, where a handsome woman with dark hair and eyes met him with mingled flattery and upbraiding, and gave herself pouting and capricious airs of offence, because he had kept her ten minutes waiting.