The sudden effort made by Hassan to recover his composure was not entirely successful; besides, he was too natural to feign with his friend a gaiety that he did not feel, so he replied—
“In truth, Ahmed, I was thinking of this poor animal’s former master, the Sammalous: she looks in vain for his return, and pricks her ears at every approaching footstep. Who knows what other loving hearts in the tents are also waiting in vain for that returning footstep?”
“Wallàhi!” said Ahmed; “if thou hadst only one-half thy size, and one-quarter of thy strength and courage, thou wouldst be a charming girl, and methinks I could court thee myself, for thy heart is as tender as that of Leilah herself. The Sammalous chief died like a brave robber, as he was, and far happier was it for him than to be captured and taken to Alexandria, and drag timber about the arsenal with two heavy chains round his ankles. Come, be pleased to remove thy giantship from the side of thy pet, that I may see her fair proportions.”
Hassan, relieved and restored to his wonted good-humour by the bantering tone of his friend, complied with his request, and after they had stood for some time commenting on the beauty and symmetry of the Arab, they returned together towards the house. On the way Hassan, having first ascertained that Ahmed was but slightly acquainted with the nazir, told him all that had passed, and at the same time communicated to him the plan that he had formed for the morrow.
“You may remember,” he said, “that in my office is a recess, covered over with a curtain, behind which, unobserved by any of the servants, I wish you to place yourself. There you will hear the rascality of these two confessed by themselves, even if they have not signed or sealed enough to convict them. At a signal from me you will come out; we will then seize them and deliver them over to the Pasha, to be punished as he sees fit.”
“With all my heart,” said Ahmed. “On my head be it; and, Inshallah! that squinting rogue’s feet will get a lesson that will mend his morals.”
On the following morning Hassan’s plan was carried out with complete success, and scarcely had Ahmed Aga ensconced himself in the curtained recess of Hassan’s office than the nazir entered, accompanied by the Sheik-el-Beled. The latter was what would be usually termed in Egypt a respectable-looking man, for one of his class; his turban and his dark serge robe well became the gravity of his countenance, and it required a close observation to detect the cunning that lurked in his small dark eyes. The servants who brought the pipes and coffee having retired, the nazir entered into the business which had been discussed at the interview of the preceding evening. He had not proceeded very far in his discourse when Hassan, interrupting him, said—
“This is a serious affair; it will not do to have servants coming in with messages until we have terminated it. I will lock the door.” While he was doing so the nazir said to the sheik in an undertone—
“The young greyhound takes well to the game; after he has tasted blood” (here he rattled the money in his bag) “he will be keener yet.” A grim smile, accompanied by “Inshallah!” was the sheik’s reply.
In order that the unseen auditor might hear the whole scheme of fraud developed, Hassan now caused the nazir to repeat what he had stated on the preceding day, under pretext that he had not thoroughly understood its details. Our hero also put from time to time a question to the sheik, whose replies, brief though they were, proved him to be a thorough participator in the villainy of his colleague, and rather led Hassan to think him the deeper rogue of the two.