When the Jew had left, the consul turned to superintend the arrangements of his house, which by this time had assumed the appearance of a hospital or prison—so numerous and varied were the people who had fled thither for refuge.
Chief among the busy ones there was the ebony damsel from beyond the Zahara, whose tendency to damage Master Jim and to alarm Jim’s mamma has already been remarked on more than once. Zubby’s energies were, at the time, devoted to Paulina, in whom she took a deep interest. She had made one little nest of a blanket for her baby Angelina, and another similar nest for Master Jim, whose head she had bumped against the wall in putting him into it—without awaking him, however, for Jim was a sound sleeper, and used to bumps. She was now tearfully regarding the meeting of Paulina with her sister Angela. The latter had been brought to the consulate by Bacri, along with her mistress and some other members of the Jew’s household, and the delight of the two sisters at this unexpected meeting afforded the susceptible Zubby inexpressible—we might almost say inconceivable—joy, as was evidenced by the rising of her black cheeks, the shutting of her blacker eyes, and the display of her gorgeous teeth—front and back—as well as her red gums.
“Oh! I’m so glad,” exclaimed Angela, sitting down on a mat beside her sister, and gazing through her tears.
“So am I, darling,” responded Paulina, “and so would baby be if she were awake and understood it.”
Zubby looked as if she were on the point of awaking baby in order to enable her to understand it; fortunately she thought better of this.
“But I’m so frightened,” added Angela, changing rather suddenly from a smile to a look of horror.
“Why, dearest?” asked Paulina.
“Oh! you’ve no idea what awful things I have heard since I went to live with the Jew, who is very kind to me, Paulina. They said they were going to kill the Dey.”
“Who said, dear?”
“The—the people—you know. Of course I don’t know who all the people are that come to see us, and I don’t like to ask; but some of them are bad—oh, so bad!” she looked appallingly solemn here—“and then Mariano—”