Part 33 (2/2)

There was a s.h.i.+ver among the horses, and a disposition to start off again, for Mr Burne blew another of his sonorous blasts; but the moment he whisked out his yellow silk flag, the others, as if by instinct, seized the horses' bridles and checked them in time.

”Pah! Bless my heart!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old gentleman, as soon as he saw what he had done. ”Here, Lawrence, you will have to take all my pocket-handkerchiefs away till we get back to a civilised land.”

”If the effendi would let me have his handkerchiefs I could make him a turban to keep off the sun, or if he would condescend to wear my fez it is at his service.”

”Rubbis.h.!.+ Stuff!” cried Mr Burne, taking off his battered straw hat, which looked as if he had slept in it on the previous night, if not before, and then sticking it on again at a fierce angle. ”Do I look like a man, sir, who would wear a fez with a towel round it? Hang it all, sir, I am an Englishman.”

Yussuf bowed.

”Why, he must think me mad, Lawrence.”

”My dear Burne,” said the professor smiling, ”Yussuf is quite right.

Come, you might make that concession.”

”Sir, do I look like a man who would wear a fez with a jack-towel twisted round it?” cried Mr Burne in the most irate manner.

”You certainly do not, my dear Burne,” said the professor laughing; ”but you do look like a man who would make any sacrifice for the benefit of his party.”

”Ah! I thought as much,” cried the old gentleman. ”Now you come round me with carney. There, Yussuf, take it,” he cried, s.n.a.t.c.hing off his straw hat and sending it skimming through the air. ”Now, then, what next? Do you want my coat and boots to dress up your Guy Fawkes with?

Don't be modest, pray. Have even my s.h.i.+rt too while you are about it.”

He took five pinches of snuff in succession so close to Ali Baba that the horse began to sneeze--or snort would be the better term.

Yussuf smiled, and took off his fez, from which he rapidly untwisted the muslin folds.

”Your excellency will condescend to wear my fez?” he said.

”No, sir, I will not,” cried Mr Burne. ”Certainly not.”

”But your excellency may suffer from sunstroke,” said Yussuf. ”I must insist.”

”You must what?” cried Mr Burne angrily.

”Insist, your excellency,” replied Yussuf gravely. ”I am answerable for your safety. Your life, while I am in your service, is more than mine.”

”And yet, sir, you brought me here, along a break-neck path, to fight robbers yesterday. Didn't they shoot at me?”

”I could not prevent that, excellency,” said Yussuf smiling. ”I can prevent you from being smitten by the sun. Your handkerchief, please.”

”Oh, all right!” exclaimed Mr Burne ruefully. ”I suppose I am n.o.body at all here. Take it. Here are two.”

”Hah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Yussuf smiling with satisfaction, and with all the oriental's love of bright colours, as he took the two yellow silk handkerchiefs, and rolled them loosely before arranging them in a picturesque fas.h.i.+on round his bright scarlet fez, and handing the head-dress back to Mr Burne.

”Humph!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed that gentleman, putting it on with a comical expression of disgust in his countenance. ”Here, you, Lawrence, if you dare to laugh at me, I'll never forgive you.”

”Do, please, Mr Burne,” cried the lad, ”for I must laugh: I can't help it.”

<script>