Ah! ye members of the “Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals” in Algiers, forgive us if we interject here the observation that there is earnest need for your activities at the present day!
Followed by the faithful though uncontrollable Zubby, with a huge triangular grass basket, Mrs Langley entered the tortuous streets of the city, and proceeded to “shop.”
Fear not, reader! It is not our purpose to drag you through the details of the too well-known process. We pass onward to matters more important.
Having traversed several streets in which Moors sat cross-legged, embroidering purses and slippers with gold, in holes in the wall so small that a good-sized bust might have objected to occupy them; where cobblers, in similar niches, made and repaired round-toed shoes of morocco leather, and the makers of horn rings for fingers, wrists, arms and ankles wrought as deftly with their toes as with their fingers; where working silversmiths plied their trade in precious metals and gems in a free-and-easy open-air fashion that would have made the mouth of a London thief water; and where idle Arabs sipped coffee and smoked the live-long day, as though coffee and tobacco were the aim and end of life—which latter they proved indeed to many of them,—Mrs Langley with Agnes, followed by Zubby, paused before a niche in which were displayed for sale a variety of curious old trinkets of a nondescript and utterly useless character. In short, it appeared to be an Algerine curiosity-shop. Here, while bargaining with the owner for some small articles, she was surprised to hear a voice at her ear say in French—
“Madame, good morning; I have great pleasure in this unexpected meeting.”
She turned hastily, and found the Danish consul standing by her side.
“Ah, monsieur,” she said, returning his salutation, “it is indeed seldom that I wander alone through this labyrinth, but necessity compels me. An English friend wishes me to send her a few characteristic articles, and I can trust no one to choose them for me. But, you look anxious.”
“Yes, excuse me,” replied the Danish consul in haste, glancing round. “I am followed, persecuted I may say. I had intended to call for your husband to-day to beg him to use his influence with the Dey in my behalf, but I cannot—circumstances—in short, will you kindly mention to him that I am in trouble because of the non-payment of the tribute due by our Government, and—”
Breaking off suddenly, the Danish consul bowed low and hurried away. Mrs Langley observed that, immediately after, a chaouse, or executioner of the palace, passed her.
This incident induced her to conclude her shopping rather quickly, and furnished her with food for thought which entirely engrossed her mind until Agnes exclaimed—