The moment our travellers landed Marizano led them to one of the nearest buildings, and introduced them to his master.
“Yoosoof!” exclaimed Disco in a shout of astonishment.
It would have been a difficult question to have decided which of the three faces displayed the most extreme surprise. Perhaps Disco’s would have been awarded the palm, but Yoosoof was undoubtedly the first to regain his self-possession.
“You be surprised,” he said, in his very broken English, while his pale-yellow visage resumed its placid gravity of expression.
“Undoubtedly we are,” said Harold.
“Bu’stin’!” exclaimed Disco.
“You would be not so mush surprised,—did you know dat I comes to here every year, an’ dat Engleesh consul ask me for ’quire about you.”
“If that be so, how comes it that you were surprised to see us?” asked Harold.
“’Cause why, I only knows dat some white mans be loss theirselfs—not knows what mans—not knows it was you.”
“Well now,” cried Disco, unable to restrain himself as he turned to Harold, “did ever two unfortnits meet wi’ sitch luck? Here have we bin’ obliged for days to keep company with the greatest Portugee villian in the country, an’ now we’re needcessitated to be under a obligation to the greatest Arab scoundrel in Afriky.”