“Yes, father,” replied Gulhyndi, trembling.
“You are agitated, you have been weeping, what is the meaning of all this?”
“Father, he has sung to me an air which has affected me deeply.”
“Ah! does he so well understand the art of moving your feelings?” asked Hussain. “Play, you Christian dog,” said he, turning to Ali, “move me, also, for once.”
“Pardon your slave, sir,” said Ali, “feelings cannot be forced; if this sweet art is to produce its effect, the mind must be favourably attuned before hand.”
“Then I suppose you understand how to effect this?” asked Hussain, looking at Ali with a searching glance.
Ali was silent.
“Are you a freed slave? Who was your master in Bagdad before?”
In answer to this Ali mentioned a name.
“You seem to me to be rather an Arab than a Frank,” said Hussain, very emphatically.