Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.Mr Burne tries a Gun.“Now that’s just what I hate in women,” said the old lawyer, viciously scattering snuff all over the place. “They put you in an ill temper, and rouse you up to think all sorts of bitter things, and then just as you feel ready to say them, they behave like that and disarm you. After the way in which she spoke to Lawrence there I can’t abuse her.”“No, don’t, please, Mr Burne,” said Lawrence warmly, and with his cheeks flushing, “I am sure she is very nice when you come to know her.”“Can’t be,” cried the lawyer. “A woman who advocates fire and sword. Bah!”“But as a protection against fire and sword,” said the professor laughing.“Tchah, sir! stuff!” cried the other. “Look here; I can be pretty fierce when I like, and with you so big and strong, and with such a way with you as you have—Bah! nonsense, sir, we shall want no arms.”“Well, I propose that we now consult the landlord.”“Oh, just as you like, sir; but if he advocates such a proceeding, I’m not going to stalk through Turkey carrying fire-irons in my belt and over my shoulder, like a sham footpad in a country show.”The landlord was summoned—a frank-looking Englishman, who listened to all the professor said in silence and then replied:“Mr Thompson the consul is quite right, sir. We are not in England here, and though this is the nineteenth century the state of the country is terribly lawless. You know the old saying about when at Rome.”“Do as the Romans do, eh?”“Exactly, sir. Every second man you meet here even in the town goes armed, even if his weapons are not seen, while in the country—quite in the interior, it is the custom to wear weapons.”“Then I shall not go,” said Mr Burne decisively. “If you ask my advice, gentlemen, I should say, carry each of you a good revolver, a knife or dagger, a sword, and a double-barrelled gun.”“Sword, dagger, and gun!” cried the professor. “Surely a revolver would be sufficient.”“Why not push a nice large brass cannon before us in a wheel-barrow?” said Mr Burne sarcastically, and then leaning back in his chair to chuckle, as if he had said something very comical, and which he emphasised by winking and nodding at Lawrence, who was too much interested in the discussion upon weapons to heed him.“A revolver is not sufficient, for more than one reason, gentlemen,” said the landlord. “It is a deadly weapon in skilful hands; but you will meet scores of people who do not understand its qualities, but who would comprehend a sword or a gun. You do not want to have to use these weapons.”“Use them, sir? Of course not,” roared the lawyer. “Of course not, sir,” said the landlord. “If you go armed merely with revolvers you may have to use them; but if you wear, in addition, a showy-looking sword and knife, and carry each of you a gun, you will be so formidable in appearance that the people in the different mountain villages will treat you with the greatest of respect, and you may make your journey in safety.”“This is very reasonable,” said the professor.“I assure you, sir, that in a country such as this is now such precautions are as necessary as taking a bottle of quinine. And beside, you may require your guns for game.”“The country is very fine, of course?”“Magnificent, sir,” replied the landlord; “but it is in ruins. The neglect and apathy of the government are such that the people are like the land—full of weeds. Why, you will hardly find a road fit to traverse, and through the neglect of the authorities, what used to be smiling plains are turned to fever-haunted marshes spreading pestilence around.”“You will have to give way, Mr Burne,” said the professor smiling, “and dress like a bandit chief.”“Never, sir,” cried the lawyer. “You two may, but I am going through Asia Minor with a snuff-box and a walking-stick. Those will be enough for me.”“Where can we get arms?” said the professor smiling.“At Politanie’s, sir, about fifty yards from here. You will find him a very straightforward tradesman. Of course his prices are higher than you would pay in London; but he will not supply you with anything that is untrustworthy. Perhaps you may as well say that you are friends of our consul, and that I advised you.”“It is absurd!” exclaimed Mr Burne, as soon as they were alone. “What do you say, Lawrence, my boy? You don’t believe in weapons of war, I’m sure.”“No,” replied Lawrence quietly.“There, professor.”“But,” continued Lawrence, “I believe in being safe. I feel sure that the people will respect us all the more for being armed.”“And would you use a sword, sir?” cried the lawyer fiercely.Lawrence drew his sleeve back from his thin arm, gazed at it mournfully, and then looked up in a wistful half-laughing way at his two friends.“I don’t think I could even pull it out of the sheath,” he said sadly.“Come, Burne, you will have to yield to circumstances.”“Not I, sir, not I,” said Mr Burne emphatically. “I have been too much mixed up with the law all my life, and know its beauties too well, ever to break it.”“But you will come with us to the gunsmith’s?”“Oh, yes, I’ll come and see you fool away your money, only I’m not going to have you carry loaded guns near me. If they are to be for show let them be for show. There, I’m ready.”“You will lie down for an hour, Lawrence, eh?” said the professor; “it is very hot.” But the lad looked so dismayed that his friend smiled and said, “Come along, then.”A few minutes later they were in a store, whose owner seemed to sell everything, from tinned meat to telescopes; and, upon hearing their wants, the shrewd, clever-looking Greek soon placed a case of revolvers before them of English and American make, exhibiting the differences of construction with clever fingers, with the result that the professor selected a Colt, and Lawrence a Tranter of a lighter make.“He’s a keen one,” said Mr Burne. “What a price he is asking for these goods!”“But they seem genuine,” said the professor; for the Greek had gone to the back of his store to make some inquiry about ammunition.“Genuine fleecing,” grumbled Mr Burne; and just then the dealer returned.“You select those two, then, gentlemen,” he said in excellent English. “But if you will allow me, sir,” he continued to Lawrence, “this is a more expensive and more highly finished pistol than the other, and it is lighter in the hand; but if I were you, as my arm would grow stronger, I should have one exactly like my friend’s.”“Why?” said Lawrence; “I like this one.”“It is a good choice, sir, but it requires different cartridges to your friend’s, and as you are going right away, would it not be better to have to depend on one size only? I have both, but I offer the suggestion.”“Yes, that’s quite right,” said the old lawyer sharply; “quite right. I should have both the same; and, do you know, I think perhaps I might as well have one, in case either of you should lose yours.”Mr Preston felt ready to smile, but the speaker was looking full at him, as if in expectation thereof, and he remained perfectly serious.The pistols having been purchased, with a good supply of ammunition, guns were brought out, and the professor invested in a couple of good useful double-barrelled fowling-pieces for himself and Lawrence; Mr Burne watching intently the whole transaction, and ending by asking the dealer to show him one.“You see,” he explained, “I should look odd to the people if I were not carrying the same weapons as you two, and besides I have often thought that I should like to go shooting. I don’t see why I shouldn’t; do you, Lawrence?”“No, sir, certainly not,” was the reply: and Mr Burne went on examining the gun before him, pulling the lever, throwing open the breech, and peeping through the barrels as if they formed a double telescope.“Oh! that’s the way, is it?” he said. “But suppose, when the thing goes off, the shots should come out at this end instead of the other?”“But you don’t fire it off when it’s open like that, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence.“My dear boy, of course not. Do you suppose I don’t understand? You put in the cartridges like this. No, they won’t go in that way. You put them in like that, and then you pull the trigger.”“No, no, no,” cried Lawrence excitedly. “You shut the breech first.”“My dear boy—oh! I see. Yes, of course. Oh! that’s what you meant. Of course, of course. I should have seen that directly. Now, then, it’s all right. Loaded?”“Sir! sir! sir!” cried the dealer, but he was too late, for the old lawyer had put the gun to his shoulder, pointing the barrel towards the door, and pulled both triggers.The result was a deafening explosion, two puffs of smoke half filling the place, and the old gentleman was seated upon the floor.“Good gracious, Burne!” cried the professor, rushing to him, “are you much hurt?”Lawrence caught at the chair beside him, turning ashy pale, and gazing down at the prostrate man, while quite a little crowd of people filled the shop.“Hurt?” cried Mr Burne fiercely—“hurt? Hang it, sir, do you think a man at my time of life can be bumped down upon the floor like that without being hurt?”“But are you wounded—injured?”“Don’t I tell you, yes,” cried Mr Burne, getting up with great difficulty. “I’m jarred all up the spinal column.”“But not wounded?”“Yes, I am, sir—in my self-respect. Here, help me up. Oh, dear! Oh, lor’! Gently! Oh, my back! Oh, dear! No; I can’t sit down. That’s better. Ah!”“Would you like a doctor fetched?”“Doctor? Hang your doctor, sir. Do you think I’ve came out here to be poisoned by a foreign doctor. Oh, bless my soul! Oh, dear me! Confound the gun! It’s a miserable cheap piece of rubbish. Went off in my hands. Anyone shot?”“No, sir,” said the dealer quietly; “fortunately you held the muzzle well up, and the charges went out of the upper part of the door.”“Oh! you’re there, are you?” cried Mr Burne furiously, as he lay back in a cane chair, whose cushion seemed to be comfortable. “How dared you put such a miserable wretched piece of rubbish as that in my hands!”The dealer made a deprecatory gesture.“Here, clear away all these people. Be off with you. What are you staring at? Did you never see an English gentleman meet with an accident before? Oh, dear me! Oh, my conscience! Bless my heart, I shall never get over this.”The dealer went about from one to the other of the passers-by who had crowded in, and the grave gentlemanly Turks bowed and left in the most courteous manner, while the others, a very motley assembly, showed some disposition to stay, but were eventually persuaded to go outside, and the door was closed.“To think of me, a grave quiet solicitor, being reduced to such a position as this. I’m crippled for life. I know I am. Serves me right for coming. Here, give me a little brandy or a glass of wine.”The latter was brought directly, and the old lawyer drank it, with the result that it seemed to make him more angry.“Here, you, sir!” he cried to the dealer, who was most attentive; “what have you to say for yourself? It’s a wonder that I did not shoot one of my friends here. That gun ought to be destroyed.”“My dear Burne,” said the professor, who had taken the fowling-piece and tried the locks, cocking and recocking them over and over again; “the piece seems to me to be in very perfect order.”“Bah! stuff! What do you know about guns?”“Certainly I have not used one much lately, and many improvements have been made since I used to go shooting; but still I do know how to handle a gun.”“Then, sir,” cried the little lawyer in a towering fury, “perhaps you will be good enough to tell me how it was that this confounded piece of mechanism went off in my hands?”“Simply,” said the professor smiling, “because you drew both the triggers at once.”“It is false, sir. I just rested my fingers upon them as you are doing now.”“And the piece went off!” said the professor drily, but smiling the while. “It is a way that all guns and pistols have.”The dealer smiled his thanks, and Mr Burne started up in the chair, but threw himself back again.“Oh, dear! oh, my gracious me!” he groaned; “and you two grinning at me and rejoicing over my sufferings.”“My dear sir, indeed I am very sorry,” said the dealer.“Yes, I know you are,” said Mr Burne furiously, “because you think, and rightly, that I will not buy your precious gun. Bless my heart, how it does hurt! I feel as if I should never be able to sit up again. I know my vertebrae are all loose like a string of beads.”“Will you allow us to assist you into my private room, sir?” said the dealer.“No, I won’t,” snapped the sufferer.“But there is a couch there, and I will send for the resident English doctor.”“If you dare do anything of the kind, confound you, sir, I’ll throw something at you. Can’t you see that there is nothing the matter with me, only I’m in pain.”“But he might relieve you, Burne,” said the professor kindly.“I tell you I don’t want to be relieved, sir,” cried the little lawyer. “And don’t stand staring at me like that, boy; I’m not killed.”“I am afraid that you are a great deal hurt,” said Lawrence, going to his side and taking his hand.“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” groaned the sufferer. “Well, I’m not, boy, not a bit. There.”“Let me send for a doctor, sir,” said the dealer.“I tell you I will not, man. Do you take me for a Greek or a Turk, or a heretic? Can’t you see that I am an Englishman, sir, one who is never beaten, and never gives up? There, go on selling your guns.”“Oh, nonsense!” said the professor; “we cannot think of such things with you in that state.”“State? What state, sir? Here you, Mr What’s-your-name, I beg your pardon. I ought to have known better. Not used to guns. Pens are more in my way. Confoundedly stupid thing to do. But I’ve learned more about a gun now than I should have learned in six months. I beg your pardon, sir.”“Pray, say no more, sir,” replied the dealer; “it is not needed.”“Yes, it is, sir,” cried the lawyer fiercely. “Didn’t I tell you I was an English gentleman. An English gentleman always apologises when he is in the wrong. I apologise. I am very sorry for what I said.”The dealer smiled and bowed, and looked pleased as he handed the sufferer another glass of wine, which was taken and sipped at intervals between a few mildohs! andssfths!“Not a bad wine this. What is it?”“One of the Greek wines, sir.”“Humph! not bad; but not like our port. Now, you people, go on with your business, and don’t stare at me as if I were a sick man. Here, Mr What’s-your-name, put that gun in a case, and send it round to the hotel. I’ve taken a fancy to it.”“Send—this gun, sir?”“Yes. Didn’t I speak plainly? Didn’t the professor, my friend here, say it was a good gun?”“Yes, sir, yes: it is an excellent piece of the best English make.”“Well, I want a gun, and I suppose any piece would go off as that did if somebody handled it as stupidly as I did.”“Yes, sir, of course.”“Then send it on, and the pistol too. Ah, that’s better—I’m easier; but I say, Preston, I shall have to be carried back.”“I’m very glad you are easier, but really if I were you I would see a doctor.”“I’ve no objection to seeing a doctor, my dear sir, but I’m not going to have him do anything to me.”“Then you really wish us to go on with our purchases?”“Why, of course, man, of course. What did we come for? Go on, man, go on. Here, mister, show me one or two of these long carving knives.”“Carving knives?” said the dealer. “I do not keep them.”“Yes, you do: these,” said Mr Burne, pointing to a case in which were several Eastern sabres.“Oh, the swords!” said the dealer smiling. “Of course.”“You are not going to buy one of these, are you, Mr Burne?” said Lawrence eagerly.“To be sure I am,” was the reply. “Why shouldn’t I play at soldiers if I like. There, what do you say to that?” he continued, drawing a light, keen-looking blade from its curved sheath. “Try it. Mind it don’t go off—I mean, don’t go slashing it round and cutting off the professor’s legs or my head. Can you lift it?”“Oh, yes,” cried Lawrence, poising the keen weapon in his hand before examining its handsome silver inlaid hilt.“Think that would do for me? Oh, dear me, what a twinge!”“Yes, sir, admirably,” replied Lawrence.“Then I don’t,” was the gruff retort. “Seems to me that it would just suit you. There, buckle on the belt.”Lawrence did as he was told, but the belt was too large and had to be reduced.“Hah! that’s better,” said Mr Burne. “There, that’s a very handsome sword, Lawrence, and it will do to make you look fierce when we are in the country, and to hang up in your room at home to keep in memory of our journey. Will you accept it, my boy, as a present?”“Oh, thank you,” cried the lad excitedly.“Took a fancy to it as soon as you saw it, you young dog. I saw you!” cried the old lawyer chuckling. “There, now for a dagger or knife to go with it.”The dealer produced one in an ornamental sheath directly, and explained that it was for use as a weapon, for hunting, or to divide food when on a journey.“That will do, then, nicely. There, my boy, these are my presents. Now, Preston, I suppose we must each have one of these long choppers?”“Yes, I think so,” replied the professor. “They will make us look more formidable.”“Very well, then: choose one for me too, but I warn you, I shall fasten mine down in the sheath with gum. I’m not going to take mine out, for fear of cutting off somebody’s legs or wings, or perhaps my own.”“You feel better now?” said the professor.“Hold your tongue, sir—do! No: I don’t feel better. I had forgotten my pain, but now you’ve made me think about it again. There!—choose two swords and knives and let’s get back.”Two plain useful sabres were selected, and the dealer received his orders to send the weapons to the hotel, after which the injured man was helped into a standing position, but not without the utterance of several groans. Then he was walked up and down the shop several times, ending by declaring himself much better.“There, Lawrence!” he cried, “that’s the advantage of being an Englishman. Now, if I had been a Dutchman or a Frenchman I should have had myself carried back, sent for a couple of doctors, and been very bad for a month or two; but you see I’m better already, and I’m not going to give up to please the Grand Panjandrum himself. Dear me! bless my heart! panjandrum! Pan—pan—pan—jan—jan—jan—drum! Where did I hear that word?”“In a sort of nursery ditty, sir,” said Lawrence laughing.“To be sure I did,” cried the old man, “and I had forgotten it; but I say, don’t laugh like that, boy.”“Why not, sir?”“Because it will make us believe that you have been shamming all this time, and that you’re really quite well, thank you, sir!—eh?”“I—I think I am better,” said Lawrence quickly. “I don’t know why, but I have not been thinking about being ill these last few days, everything is so bright and sunshiny here, you see.”“Yes, I see,” said the old lawyer, giving the professor a peculiar look; and they went back to the hotel.

“Now that’s just what I hate in women,” said the old lawyer, viciously scattering snuff all over the place. “They put you in an ill temper, and rouse you up to think all sorts of bitter things, and then just as you feel ready to say them, they behave like that and disarm you. After the way in which she spoke to Lawrence there I can’t abuse her.”

“No, don’t, please, Mr Burne,” said Lawrence warmly, and with his cheeks flushing, “I am sure she is very nice when you come to know her.”

“Can’t be,” cried the lawyer. “A woman who advocates fire and sword. Bah!”

“But as a protection against fire and sword,” said the professor laughing.

“Tchah, sir! stuff!” cried the other. “Look here; I can be pretty fierce when I like, and with you so big and strong, and with such a way with you as you have—Bah! nonsense, sir, we shall want no arms.”

“Well, I propose that we now consult the landlord.”

“Oh, just as you like, sir; but if he advocates such a proceeding, I’m not going to stalk through Turkey carrying fire-irons in my belt and over my shoulder, like a sham footpad in a country show.”

The landlord was summoned—a frank-looking Englishman, who listened to all the professor said in silence and then replied:

“Mr Thompson the consul is quite right, sir. We are not in England here, and though this is the nineteenth century the state of the country is terribly lawless. You know the old saying about when at Rome.”

“Do as the Romans do, eh?”

“Exactly, sir. Every second man you meet here even in the town goes armed, even if his weapons are not seen, while in the country—quite in the interior, it is the custom to wear weapons.”

“Then I shall not go,” said Mr Burne decisively. “If you ask my advice, gentlemen, I should say, carry each of you a good revolver, a knife or dagger, a sword, and a double-barrelled gun.”

“Sword, dagger, and gun!” cried the professor. “Surely a revolver would be sufficient.”

“Why not push a nice large brass cannon before us in a wheel-barrow?” said Mr Burne sarcastically, and then leaning back in his chair to chuckle, as if he had said something very comical, and which he emphasised by winking and nodding at Lawrence, who was too much interested in the discussion upon weapons to heed him.

“A revolver is not sufficient, for more than one reason, gentlemen,” said the landlord. “It is a deadly weapon in skilful hands; but you will meet scores of people who do not understand its qualities, but who would comprehend a sword or a gun. You do not want to have to use these weapons.”

“Use them, sir? Of course not,” roared the lawyer. “Of course not, sir,” said the landlord. “If you go armed merely with revolvers you may have to use them; but if you wear, in addition, a showy-looking sword and knife, and carry each of you a gun, you will be so formidable in appearance that the people in the different mountain villages will treat you with the greatest of respect, and you may make your journey in safety.”

“This is very reasonable,” said the professor.

“I assure you, sir, that in a country such as this is now such precautions are as necessary as taking a bottle of quinine. And beside, you may require your guns for game.”

“The country is very fine, of course?”

“Magnificent, sir,” replied the landlord; “but it is in ruins. The neglect and apathy of the government are such that the people are like the land—full of weeds. Why, you will hardly find a road fit to traverse, and through the neglect of the authorities, what used to be smiling plains are turned to fever-haunted marshes spreading pestilence around.”

“You will have to give way, Mr Burne,” said the professor smiling, “and dress like a bandit chief.”

“Never, sir,” cried the lawyer. “You two may, but I am going through Asia Minor with a snuff-box and a walking-stick. Those will be enough for me.”

“Where can we get arms?” said the professor smiling.

“At Politanie’s, sir, about fifty yards from here. You will find him a very straightforward tradesman. Of course his prices are higher than you would pay in London; but he will not supply you with anything that is untrustworthy. Perhaps you may as well say that you are friends of our consul, and that I advised you.”

“It is absurd!” exclaimed Mr Burne, as soon as they were alone. “What do you say, Lawrence, my boy? You don’t believe in weapons of war, I’m sure.”

“No,” replied Lawrence quietly.

“There, professor.”

“But,” continued Lawrence, “I believe in being safe. I feel sure that the people will respect us all the more for being armed.”

“And would you use a sword, sir?” cried the lawyer fiercely.

Lawrence drew his sleeve back from his thin arm, gazed at it mournfully, and then looked up in a wistful half-laughing way at his two friends.

“I don’t think I could even pull it out of the sheath,” he said sadly.

“Come, Burne, you will have to yield to circumstances.”

“Not I, sir, not I,” said Mr Burne emphatically. “I have been too much mixed up with the law all my life, and know its beauties too well, ever to break it.”

“But you will come with us to the gunsmith’s?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll come and see you fool away your money, only I’m not going to have you carry loaded guns near me. If they are to be for show let them be for show. There, I’m ready.”

“You will lie down for an hour, Lawrence, eh?” said the professor; “it is very hot.” But the lad looked so dismayed that his friend smiled and said, “Come along, then.”

A few minutes later they were in a store, whose owner seemed to sell everything, from tinned meat to telescopes; and, upon hearing their wants, the shrewd, clever-looking Greek soon placed a case of revolvers before them of English and American make, exhibiting the differences of construction with clever fingers, with the result that the professor selected a Colt, and Lawrence a Tranter of a lighter make.

“He’s a keen one,” said Mr Burne. “What a price he is asking for these goods!”

“But they seem genuine,” said the professor; for the Greek had gone to the back of his store to make some inquiry about ammunition.

“Genuine fleecing,” grumbled Mr Burne; and just then the dealer returned.

“You select those two, then, gentlemen,” he said in excellent English. “But if you will allow me, sir,” he continued to Lawrence, “this is a more expensive and more highly finished pistol than the other, and it is lighter in the hand; but if I were you, as my arm would grow stronger, I should have one exactly like my friend’s.”

“Why?” said Lawrence; “I like this one.”

“It is a good choice, sir, but it requires different cartridges to your friend’s, and as you are going right away, would it not be better to have to depend on one size only? I have both, but I offer the suggestion.”

“Yes, that’s quite right,” said the old lawyer sharply; “quite right. I should have both the same; and, do you know, I think perhaps I might as well have one, in case either of you should lose yours.”

Mr Preston felt ready to smile, but the speaker was looking full at him, as if in expectation thereof, and he remained perfectly serious.

The pistols having been purchased, with a good supply of ammunition, guns were brought out, and the professor invested in a couple of good useful double-barrelled fowling-pieces for himself and Lawrence; Mr Burne watching intently the whole transaction, and ending by asking the dealer to show him one.

“You see,” he explained, “I should look odd to the people if I were not carrying the same weapons as you two, and besides I have often thought that I should like to go shooting. I don’t see why I shouldn’t; do you, Lawrence?”

“No, sir, certainly not,” was the reply: and Mr Burne went on examining the gun before him, pulling the lever, throwing open the breech, and peeping through the barrels as if they formed a double telescope.

“Oh! that’s the way, is it?” he said. “But suppose, when the thing goes off, the shots should come out at this end instead of the other?”

“But you don’t fire it off when it’s open like that, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence.

“My dear boy, of course not. Do you suppose I don’t understand? You put in the cartridges like this. No, they won’t go in that way. You put them in like that, and then you pull the trigger.”

“No, no, no,” cried Lawrence excitedly. “You shut the breech first.”

“My dear boy—oh! I see. Yes, of course. Oh! that’s what you meant. Of course, of course. I should have seen that directly. Now, then, it’s all right. Loaded?”

“Sir! sir! sir!” cried the dealer, but he was too late, for the old lawyer had put the gun to his shoulder, pointing the barrel towards the door, and pulled both triggers.

The result was a deafening explosion, two puffs of smoke half filling the place, and the old gentleman was seated upon the floor.

“Good gracious, Burne!” cried the professor, rushing to him, “are you much hurt?”

Lawrence caught at the chair beside him, turning ashy pale, and gazing down at the prostrate man, while quite a little crowd of people filled the shop.

“Hurt?” cried Mr Burne fiercely—“hurt? Hang it, sir, do you think a man at my time of life can be bumped down upon the floor like that without being hurt?”

“But are you wounded—injured?”

“Don’t I tell you, yes,” cried Mr Burne, getting up with great difficulty. “I’m jarred all up the spinal column.”

“But not wounded?”

“Yes, I am, sir—in my self-respect. Here, help me up. Oh, dear! Oh, lor’! Gently! Oh, my back! Oh, dear! No; I can’t sit down. That’s better. Ah!”

“Would you like a doctor fetched?”

“Doctor? Hang your doctor, sir. Do you think I’ve came out here to be poisoned by a foreign doctor. Oh, bless my soul! Oh, dear me! Confound the gun! It’s a miserable cheap piece of rubbish. Went off in my hands. Anyone shot?”

“No, sir,” said the dealer quietly; “fortunately you held the muzzle well up, and the charges went out of the upper part of the door.”

“Oh! you’re there, are you?” cried Mr Burne furiously, as he lay back in a cane chair, whose cushion seemed to be comfortable. “How dared you put such a miserable wretched piece of rubbish as that in my hands!”

The dealer made a deprecatory gesture.

“Here, clear away all these people. Be off with you. What are you staring at? Did you never see an English gentleman meet with an accident before? Oh, dear me! Oh, my conscience! Bless my heart, I shall never get over this.”

The dealer went about from one to the other of the passers-by who had crowded in, and the grave gentlemanly Turks bowed and left in the most courteous manner, while the others, a very motley assembly, showed some disposition to stay, but were eventually persuaded to go outside, and the door was closed.

“To think of me, a grave quiet solicitor, being reduced to such a position as this. I’m crippled for life. I know I am. Serves me right for coming. Here, give me a little brandy or a glass of wine.”

The latter was brought directly, and the old lawyer drank it, with the result that it seemed to make him more angry.

“Here, you, sir!” he cried to the dealer, who was most attentive; “what have you to say for yourself? It’s a wonder that I did not shoot one of my friends here. That gun ought to be destroyed.”

“My dear Burne,” said the professor, who had taken the fowling-piece and tried the locks, cocking and recocking them over and over again; “the piece seems to me to be in very perfect order.”

“Bah! stuff! What do you know about guns?”

“Certainly I have not used one much lately, and many improvements have been made since I used to go shooting; but still I do know how to handle a gun.”

“Then, sir,” cried the little lawyer in a towering fury, “perhaps you will be good enough to tell me how it was that this confounded piece of mechanism went off in my hands?”

“Simply,” said the professor smiling, “because you drew both the triggers at once.”

“It is false, sir. I just rested my fingers upon them as you are doing now.”

“And the piece went off!” said the professor drily, but smiling the while. “It is a way that all guns and pistols have.”

The dealer smiled his thanks, and Mr Burne started up in the chair, but threw himself back again.

“Oh, dear! oh, my gracious me!” he groaned; “and you two grinning at me and rejoicing over my sufferings.”

“My dear sir, indeed I am very sorry,” said the dealer.

“Yes, I know you are,” said Mr Burne furiously, “because you think, and rightly, that I will not buy your precious gun. Bless my heart, how it does hurt! I feel as if I should never be able to sit up again. I know my vertebrae are all loose like a string of beads.”

“Will you allow us to assist you into my private room, sir?” said the dealer.

“No, I won’t,” snapped the sufferer.

“But there is a couch there, and I will send for the resident English doctor.”

“If you dare do anything of the kind, confound you, sir, I’ll throw something at you. Can’t you see that there is nothing the matter with me, only I’m in pain.”

“But he might relieve you, Burne,” said the professor kindly.

“I tell you I don’t want to be relieved, sir,” cried the little lawyer. “And don’t stand staring at me like that, boy; I’m not killed.”

“I am afraid that you are a great deal hurt,” said Lawrence, going to his side and taking his hand.

“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” groaned the sufferer. “Well, I’m not, boy, not a bit. There.”

“Let me send for a doctor, sir,” said the dealer.

“I tell you I will not, man. Do you take me for a Greek or a Turk, or a heretic? Can’t you see that I am an Englishman, sir, one who is never beaten, and never gives up? There, go on selling your guns.”

“Oh, nonsense!” said the professor; “we cannot think of such things with you in that state.”

“State? What state, sir? Here you, Mr What’s-your-name, I beg your pardon. I ought to have known better. Not used to guns. Pens are more in my way. Confoundedly stupid thing to do. But I’ve learned more about a gun now than I should have learned in six months. I beg your pardon, sir.”

“Pray, say no more, sir,” replied the dealer; “it is not needed.”

“Yes, it is, sir,” cried the lawyer fiercely. “Didn’t I tell you I was an English gentleman. An English gentleman always apologises when he is in the wrong. I apologise. I am very sorry for what I said.”

The dealer smiled and bowed, and looked pleased as he handed the sufferer another glass of wine, which was taken and sipped at intervals between a few mildohs! andssfths!

“Not a bad wine this. What is it?”

“One of the Greek wines, sir.”

“Humph! not bad; but not like our port. Now, you people, go on with your business, and don’t stare at me as if I were a sick man. Here, Mr What’s-your-name, put that gun in a case, and send it round to the hotel. I’ve taken a fancy to it.”

“Send—this gun, sir?”

“Yes. Didn’t I speak plainly? Didn’t the professor, my friend here, say it was a good gun?”

“Yes, sir, yes: it is an excellent piece of the best English make.”

“Well, I want a gun, and I suppose any piece would go off as that did if somebody handled it as stupidly as I did.”

“Yes, sir, of course.”

“Then send it on, and the pistol too. Ah, that’s better—I’m easier; but I say, Preston, I shall have to be carried back.”

“I’m very glad you are easier, but really if I were you I would see a doctor.”

“I’ve no objection to seeing a doctor, my dear sir, but I’m not going to have him do anything to me.”

“Then you really wish us to go on with our purchases?”

“Why, of course, man, of course. What did we come for? Go on, man, go on. Here, mister, show me one or two of these long carving knives.”

“Carving knives?” said the dealer. “I do not keep them.”

“Yes, you do: these,” said Mr Burne, pointing to a case in which were several Eastern sabres.

“Oh, the swords!” said the dealer smiling. “Of course.”

“You are not going to buy one of these, are you, Mr Burne?” said Lawrence eagerly.

“To be sure I am,” was the reply. “Why shouldn’t I play at soldiers if I like. There, what do you say to that?” he continued, drawing a light, keen-looking blade from its curved sheath. “Try it. Mind it don’t go off—I mean, don’t go slashing it round and cutting off the professor’s legs or my head. Can you lift it?”

“Oh, yes,” cried Lawrence, poising the keen weapon in his hand before examining its handsome silver inlaid hilt.

“Think that would do for me? Oh, dear me, what a twinge!”

“Yes, sir, admirably,” replied Lawrence.

“Then I don’t,” was the gruff retort. “Seems to me that it would just suit you. There, buckle on the belt.”

Lawrence did as he was told, but the belt was too large and had to be reduced.

“Hah! that’s better,” said Mr Burne. “There, that’s a very handsome sword, Lawrence, and it will do to make you look fierce when we are in the country, and to hang up in your room at home to keep in memory of our journey. Will you accept it, my boy, as a present?”

“Oh, thank you,” cried the lad excitedly.

“Took a fancy to it as soon as you saw it, you young dog. I saw you!” cried the old lawyer chuckling. “There, now for a dagger or knife to go with it.”

The dealer produced one in an ornamental sheath directly, and explained that it was for use as a weapon, for hunting, or to divide food when on a journey.

“That will do, then, nicely. There, my boy, these are my presents. Now, Preston, I suppose we must each have one of these long choppers?”

“Yes, I think so,” replied the professor. “They will make us look more formidable.”

“Very well, then: choose one for me too, but I warn you, I shall fasten mine down in the sheath with gum. I’m not going to take mine out, for fear of cutting off somebody’s legs or wings, or perhaps my own.”

“You feel better now?” said the professor.

“Hold your tongue, sir—do! No: I don’t feel better. I had forgotten my pain, but now you’ve made me think about it again. There!—choose two swords and knives and let’s get back.”

Two plain useful sabres were selected, and the dealer received his orders to send the weapons to the hotel, after which the injured man was helped into a standing position, but not without the utterance of several groans. Then he was walked up and down the shop several times, ending by declaring himself much better.

“There, Lawrence!” he cried, “that’s the advantage of being an Englishman. Now, if I had been a Dutchman or a Frenchman I should have had myself carried back, sent for a couple of doctors, and been very bad for a month or two; but you see I’m better already, and I’m not going to give up to please the Grand Panjandrum himself. Dear me! bless my heart! panjandrum! Pan—pan—pan—jan—jan—jan—drum! Where did I hear that word?”

“In a sort of nursery ditty, sir,” said Lawrence laughing.

“To be sure I did,” cried the old man, “and I had forgotten it; but I say, don’t laugh like that, boy.”

“Why not, sir?”

“Because it will make us believe that you have been shamming all this time, and that you’re really quite well, thank you, sir!—eh?”

“I—I think I am better,” said Lawrence quickly. “I don’t know why, but I have not been thinking about being ill these last few days, everything is so bright and sunshiny here, you see.”

“Yes, I see,” said the old lawyer, giving the professor a peculiar look; and they went back to the hotel.

Chapter Seven.The Greek Skipper.“No, I can’t do it,” said Mr Burne after several brave efforts; “I really am a good deal jarred, and it is quite impossible. I am quite right as long as I keep still, but in such pain if I move that I can hardly bear it.”“Then we will put off the journey for a week,” said the professor decisively.“And disappoint the lad?” said Mr Burne. “No; you two must go.”“How can you talk like that?” exclaimed Lawrence sharply, “when you have come on purpose to help me get strong again? Mr Preston, we shall stay here—shall we not?”“Of course,” replied the professor. “The enjoyment of our trip depends upon our being staunch to one another.”Mr Burne declared that it was absurd, and ridiculous, and nonsensical, and raked out a few other adjectives to give force to his sentiments, speaking in the most sour way possible; but it was very evident that he was highly pleased, and the steamer sailed without them.The next day Mr Burne was so stiff that he could not walk about; but he refused to see a doctor, and a week passed before he could move without pain. Then one morning he declared that he was mending fast, and insisted upon inquiries being made respecting the sailing of the next steamer that would stop at one or other of the little towns on the south coast; but there was nothing bound in that direction, nor likely to be for another fortnight.“And all my fault!” cried Mr Burne angrily. “Tut-tut-tut! Here, ring for the landlord.”The landlord came and was questioned.No, there was no possibility of a passage being made for quite a fortnight, unless the visitors would go in a small sailing boat belonging to one or the other of the trading crews.The professor glanced at Lawrence, thought of the probable discomfort, and shook his head.“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr Burne sharply.“We can make trips in steamers at anytime; but a trip in a Greek felucca, with real Greek sailors, is what I have longed for all my life. Eh, Lawrence, what do you say?”“I think with you, sir, that it would be delightful—that is, if you are well enough to go.”“Well enough to go! of course I am. I’m longing to be off. Only a bit stiff. Look here, landlord, see what you can do for us. One moment, though; these Greeks—they will not rob us and throw us overboard—eh?”“No fear, sir. I’ll see that you go by a boat manned by honest fellows who come regularly to the port. Leave it to me.”The landlord departed and the question was discussed. The professor was ready enough to go in the manner proposed so long as Lawrence felt equal to the task, and this he declared he was; and certainly, imperceptibly as it had come about, there was an improvement in his appearance that was most hopeful.The principal part of their luggage had gone on by steamer, and would be lying waiting for them at Ansina, a little port on the south coast which had been considered a suitable starting-point; and they had been suffering some inconvenience, buying just such few things as would do to make shift with till they overtook their portmanteaux.Oddly enough, Mr Burne expressed the most concern about their new purchases, the weapons and ammunition, which had been sent on to the steamer by the landlord as soon as they arrived from the store.“Such things must be so tempting to the people who see them,” said the old lawyer.“But they were all carefully packed in cases,” said the professor. “They would not know what was inside.”“Nonsense, my dear sir. We English folk would not have known, but a Greek or a Turk would. These people smell powder just like crows in a corn-field. I’m afraid that if we don’t make haste we shall find our things gone, and I wouldn’t lose that gun for any money.”The landlord came back in about a couple of hours to say that he had had no success, but that it would become known that he had been inquiring, and an application might be made.This turned out correct, for as the travellers were seated that evening over their dessert, enjoying by an open window the deliciously soft breeze, as Lawrence partook of the abundant grapes, and the professor puffed at a water-pipe—an example followed by Mr Burne, who diligently tried to like it, but always gave up in favour of a cigar at the end of a quarter of an hour—the waiter brought their coffee and announced that the master of a small vessel desired to see their excellencies.The man was shown in, and proved to be a picturesque-looking fellow in a scarlet cap, which he snatched from his curly black hair and advanced into the room, saying some words in modern Greek whose import the professor made out; but his attempts to reply were too much for the skipper, who grew excited, shook his head, and finally rushed out of the room, to the great amusement of Mr Burne, who knocked the ash off the cigar he had recently lit.“That’s what I always say,” he cried. “Book language is as different as can be from spoken language. I learned French for long enough when I was a boy, but I never could make a Frenchman understand what I meant.”“Let’s ring and inquire,” said the professor, to hide a smile. “I hope we have not driven the fellow away.”“Hope you have, you mean,” said Mr Burne.The professor rose to reach the bell, but just then the landlord entered with the Greek sailor, who smiled and showed his white teeth.With the landlord as interpreter the matter became easy. The man was going to sail in three days, that was as soon as the little vessel, in which he had brought a cargo of oranges and other fruit from Beyrout, had discharged her load and was ready to return. He was going to Larnaca on his return voyage, but for a consideration he was ready to take the English excellencies to any port they liked on the south coast—Ansina if they wished—and he would make them as comfortable as the boat would allow; but they must bring their own food and wine.The bargain was soon struck, the Greek asking a sum which the landlord named to the professor—so many Turkish pounds.“But is not that a heavy price for the accommodation we shall receive?”“Yes,” said the landlord smiling. “I was going to suggest that you should offer him one-third of the amount.”“Then we shall offend him and drive him away,” said Mr Burne.“Oh, dear me! no, gentlemen. He does not expect to get what he asks, and the sum I name would be very fair payment. You leave the settlement in my hands.”The professor acquiesced, and the landlord turned to the Greek sailor to offer him just one-third of the sum he had asked.“I thought as much,” said the old lawyer. “The landlord thinks we’re in England, and that it was a bill of costs that he had to tax. Look at the Greek, Lawrence!”The latter needed no telling, for he was already watching the sailor, who was protesting furiously. One moment his hands were raised, the next they were clenched downwards as if about to strike the floor. Again they were lifted menacingly, and there seemed danger, for one rested upon a knife in his belt, but only for it to be beaten furiously in the other. Quick angry words, delivered with the greatest volubility, followed; and then, turning and looking round in the most scornful manner, the man seemed to fire a volley of words at the whole party and rushed from the room.“I’m sorry for this,” said the professor, “for we would have paid heavily sooner than wait longer.”“Humph! Yes,” exclaimed Mr Burne. “Why not call the man back and offer him two-thirds of his price?”“Because, sir,” replied the landlord, “it would have been giving him twice as much as would pay him well. Don’t you see, sir, that he is going back empty, and every piastre you pay him is great profit. Besides, I presume that you will take far more provisions than will suffice for your own use.”“Naturally,” replied the professor.“And this man and his little crew will reap the benefit?”“But you have driven him away.”“Oh dear, no, sir!” replied the landlord smiling. “He will be back to-night, or at the latest to-morrow morning, to seal the bargain.”“Do you think so?” cried Lawrence, who looked terribly disappointed at this new delay.“I am sure,” said the landlord laughing. “Here he is.”For there was a quick step on the stair, the door was opened, and the swarthy face of the Greek was thrust in, the red cap snatched off, and, showing his white teeth in a broad smile, he came forward, nodding pleasantly to all in turn.A few words passed, the bargain was made, and the tall lithe fellow strode out in high glee, it being understood that he was to well clean out the little cabin, and remove baskets and lumber forward so as to make the boat as comfortable as he could for his passengers; that he was to put in at any port they liked, or stop at any island they wished to see; and, moreover, he swore to defend them with his men against enemies of every kind, and to land them safely at Ansina, or suffer death in default.This last was his own volunteered penalty, after which he darted back to say that their excellencies might bring a little tobacco for him and his men, if they liked, and that, in return, they might be sure of finding a plentiful supply of oranges, grapes, and melons for their use.“Come, landlord,” said Mr Burne, “I think you have done wonders for us.”“I have only kept you from being cheated, gentlemen,” was the reply. “These men generally ask three or four times as much as they mean to take.”“And do the landlords?” said the professor drily.“I hope not, sir,” was the reply. “But now, gentlemen, if you will allow me, I should like to offer you a bit of advice.”“Pray, give it,” said the professor gravely.“I will, sir. It is this. You are going into a very wild country, where in places you will not be able to help yourselves in spite of your firman. That will be sufficient to get you everything where the law is held in anything like respect, but you will find yourselves in places where the rude, ignorant peasants will look upon you as Christian dogs, and will see you starve or die of exposure before they will give or even sell you food for yourselves or horses.”“Mighty pleasant set of barbarians to go amongst, I must say!” cried Mr Burne.“I am telling you the simple truth, gentlemen. You will find no hotels or inns, only the resting-places—the khans—and often enough you will be away from them.”“He is quite right,” said the professor calmly. “I was aware that we should sometimes have to encounter these troubles.”“Humph! ’Pon my word!” grumbled Mr Burne. “Look here, Lawrence, let’s go back.”“What for?” cried the lad flushing. “Oh, no! we must go on.”The professor glanced at him quickly, and smiled in his calm grave way before turning to the landlord.“You have not given us your advice,” he said.“It is very simple, gentlemen, and it is this: Take with you a man who knows the country well, who can act as guide, and from his frequent travels there can speak two or three languages—a faithful trusty fellow who will watch over you, guard you from extortion, and be ready to fight, if needs be, or force the people he comes among to give you or sell you what you need.”“Oh! but are they such savages as this—so near to the more civilised places of the East?”“Quite, sir,” replied the landlord.“And where is this pearl among men to be found?” said the professor with a slight sneer. “Do you know such a one?”“Yes, sir; he only returned from a journey yesterday. I happened to see him this morning, and thought directly of you.”“Would he go with us?” said the old lawyer quickly.“I cannot say for certain,” was the reply; “but if you will give me leave I will see him and sound him upon the subject.”“Humph!” from the old lawyer.“He has just been paid, and would no doubt like to stay and rest here a little while, but I daresay I could prevail upon him to go with you if he saw you first.”“Then he is to be the master, not we?”“Well, gentlemen, I don’t say that,” said the landlord smiling; “but people out here are very different to what they are at home. I have learned by bitter experience how independent they can be, and how strong their natural dislike is to Christians.”“This man is not a Christian, then?”“Oh, no, sir! a Muslim, a thorough-going Turk.”“He will not carry his religious feelings to the pitch of pushing us over some precipice in the mountains, eh? and then come home thinking he has done a good work, eh, Mr Landlord?” said the old lawyer.“Oh, no! I’ll answer for his integrity, sir. If he engages to go with you, have no hesitation in trusting him with your baggage, your arms, your purses if you like. If he undertakes to be your guide, he will lose his life sooner than see you robbed of a single piastre.”“And what will he require?” said Mr Burne shortly; “what pay?”“Very moderate, gentlemen, and I promise you this, that if I can persuade him to go with you, the cost of paying him will be saved out of your expenses. I mean that you will spend less with him than you would without.”“And he knows something of the country?”“A great deal, gentlemen. Shall I see if I can get him to go?”“By all means,” cried the two elders in a breath.“If he consents I will bring him to you. I beg pardon, I am wrong. I must bring him to see you first before he will consent.”“Then, as I said before, he is to be the master, not we,” said the professor.“No, no, sir, you must not take it like that. The man is independent, and need not undertake this journey without he likes. Is it surprising, then, that if he should come and see you, and not liking your appearance, or the prospect of being comfortable in your service, he should decline to go?”“You are quite right,” said Mr Burne. “I would not.”

“No, I can’t do it,” said Mr Burne after several brave efforts; “I really am a good deal jarred, and it is quite impossible. I am quite right as long as I keep still, but in such pain if I move that I can hardly bear it.”

“Then we will put off the journey for a week,” said the professor decisively.

“And disappoint the lad?” said Mr Burne. “No; you two must go.”

“How can you talk like that?” exclaimed Lawrence sharply, “when you have come on purpose to help me get strong again? Mr Preston, we shall stay here—shall we not?”

“Of course,” replied the professor. “The enjoyment of our trip depends upon our being staunch to one another.”

Mr Burne declared that it was absurd, and ridiculous, and nonsensical, and raked out a few other adjectives to give force to his sentiments, speaking in the most sour way possible; but it was very evident that he was highly pleased, and the steamer sailed without them.

The next day Mr Burne was so stiff that he could not walk about; but he refused to see a doctor, and a week passed before he could move without pain. Then one morning he declared that he was mending fast, and insisted upon inquiries being made respecting the sailing of the next steamer that would stop at one or other of the little towns on the south coast; but there was nothing bound in that direction, nor likely to be for another fortnight.

“And all my fault!” cried Mr Burne angrily. “Tut-tut-tut! Here, ring for the landlord.”

The landlord came and was questioned.

No, there was no possibility of a passage being made for quite a fortnight, unless the visitors would go in a small sailing boat belonging to one or the other of the trading crews.

The professor glanced at Lawrence, thought of the probable discomfort, and shook his head.

“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr Burne sharply.

“We can make trips in steamers at anytime; but a trip in a Greek felucca, with real Greek sailors, is what I have longed for all my life. Eh, Lawrence, what do you say?”

“I think with you, sir, that it would be delightful—that is, if you are well enough to go.”

“Well enough to go! of course I am. I’m longing to be off. Only a bit stiff. Look here, landlord, see what you can do for us. One moment, though; these Greeks—they will not rob us and throw us overboard—eh?”

“No fear, sir. I’ll see that you go by a boat manned by honest fellows who come regularly to the port. Leave it to me.”

The landlord departed and the question was discussed. The professor was ready enough to go in the manner proposed so long as Lawrence felt equal to the task, and this he declared he was; and certainly, imperceptibly as it had come about, there was an improvement in his appearance that was most hopeful.

The principal part of their luggage had gone on by steamer, and would be lying waiting for them at Ansina, a little port on the south coast which had been considered a suitable starting-point; and they had been suffering some inconvenience, buying just such few things as would do to make shift with till they overtook their portmanteaux.

Oddly enough, Mr Burne expressed the most concern about their new purchases, the weapons and ammunition, which had been sent on to the steamer by the landlord as soon as they arrived from the store.

“Such things must be so tempting to the people who see them,” said the old lawyer.

“But they were all carefully packed in cases,” said the professor. “They would not know what was inside.”

“Nonsense, my dear sir. We English folk would not have known, but a Greek or a Turk would. These people smell powder just like crows in a corn-field. I’m afraid that if we don’t make haste we shall find our things gone, and I wouldn’t lose that gun for any money.”

The landlord came back in about a couple of hours to say that he had had no success, but that it would become known that he had been inquiring, and an application might be made.

This turned out correct, for as the travellers were seated that evening over their dessert, enjoying by an open window the deliciously soft breeze, as Lawrence partook of the abundant grapes, and the professor puffed at a water-pipe—an example followed by Mr Burne, who diligently tried to like it, but always gave up in favour of a cigar at the end of a quarter of an hour—the waiter brought their coffee and announced that the master of a small vessel desired to see their excellencies.

The man was shown in, and proved to be a picturesque-looking fellow in a scarlet cap, which he snatched from his curly black hair and advanced into the room, saying some words in modern Greek whose import the professor made out; but his attempts to reply were too much for the skipper, who grew excited, shook his head, and finally rushed out of the room, to the great amusement of Mr Burne, who knocked the ash off the cigar he had recently lit.

“That’s what I always say,” he cried. “Book language is as different as can be from spoken language. I learned French for long enough when I was a boy, but I never could make a Frenchman understand what I meant.”

“Let’s ring and inquire,” said the professor, to hide a smile. “I hope we have not driven the fellow away.”

“Hope you have, you mean,” said Mr Burne.

The professor rose to reach the bell, but just then the landlord entered with the Greek sailor, who smiled and showed his white teeth.

With the landlord as interpreter the matter became easy. The man was going to sail in three days, that was as soon as the little vessel, in which he had brought a cargo of oranges and other fruit from Beyrout, had discharged her load and was ready to return. He was going to Larnaca on his return voyage, but for a consideration he was ready to take the English excellencies to any port they liked on the south coast—Ansina if they wished—and he would make them as comfortable as the boat would allow; but they must bring their own food and wine.

The bargain was soon struck, the Greek asking a sum which the landlord named to the professor—so many Turkish pounds.

“But is not that a heavy price for the accommodation we shall receive?”

“Yes,” said the landlord smiling. “I was going to suggest that you should offer him one-third of the amount.”

“Then we shall offend him and drive him away,” said Mr Burne.

“Oh, dear me! no, gentlemen. He does not expect to get what he asks, and the sum I name would be very fair payment. You leave the settlement in my hands.”

The professor acquiesced, and the landlord turned to the Greek sailor to offer him just one-third of the sum he had asked.

“I thought as much,” said the old lawyer. “The landlord thinks we’re in England, and that it was a bill of costs that he had to tax. Look at the Greek, Lawrence!”

The latter needed no telling, for he was already watching the sailor, who was protesting furiously. One moment his hands were raised, the next they were clenched downwards as if about to strike the floor. Again they were lifted menacingly, and there seemed danger, for one rested upon a knife in his belt, but only for it to be beaten furiously in the other. Quick angry words, delivered with the greatest volubility, followed; and then, turning and looking round in the most scornful manner, the man seemed to fire a volley of words at the whole party and rushed from the room.

“I’m sorry for this,” said the professor, “for we would have paid heavily sooner than wait longer.”

“Humph! Yes,” exclaimed Mr Burne. “Why not call the man back and offer him two-thirds of his price?”

“Because, sir,” replied the landlord, “it would have been giving him twice as much as would pay him well. Don’t you see, sir, that he is going back empty, and every piastre you pay him is great profit. Besides, I presume that you will take far more provisions than will suffice for your own use.”

“Naturally,” replied the professor.

“And this man and his little crew will reap the benefit?”

“But you have driven him away.”

“Oh dear, no, sir!” replied the landlord smiling. “He will be back to-night, or at the latest to-morrow morning, to seal the bargain.”

“Do you think so?” cried Lawrence, who looked terribly disappointed at this new delay.

“I am sure,” said the landlord laughing. “Here he is.”

For there was a quick step on the stair, the door was opened, and the swarthy face of the Greek was thrust in, the red cap snatched off, and, showing his white teeth in a broad smile, he came forward, nodding pleasantly to all in turn.

A few words passed, the bargain was made, and the tall lithe fellow strode out in high glee, it being understood that he was to well clean out the little cabin, and remove baskets and lumber forward so as to make the boat as comfortable as he could for his passengers; that he was to put in at any port they liked, or stop at any island they wished to see; and, moreover, he swore to defend them with his men against enemies of every kind, and to land them safely at Ansina, or suffer death in default.

This last was his own volunteered penalty, after which he darted back to say that their excellencies might bring a little tobacco for him and his men, if they liked, and that, in return, they might be sure of finding a plentiful supply of oranges, grapes, and melons for their use.

“Come, landlord,” said Mr Burne, “I think you have done wonders for us.”

“I have only kept you from being cheated, gentlemen,” was the reply. “These men generally ask three or four times as much as they mean to take.”

“And do the landlords?” said the professor drily.

“I hope not, sir,” was the reply. “But now, gentlemen, if you will allow me, I should like to offer you a bit of advice.”

“Pray, give it,” said the professor gravely.

“I will, sir. It is this. You are going into a very wild country, where in places you will not be able to help yourselves in spite of your firman. That will be sufficient to get you everything where the law is held in anything like respect, but you will find yourselves in places where the rude, ignorant peasants will look upon you as Christian dogs, and will see you starve or die of exposure before they will give or even sell you food for yourselves or horses.”

“Mighty pleasant set of barbarians to go amongst, I must say!” cried Mr Burne.

“I am telling you the simple truth, gentlemen. You will find no hotels or inns, only the resting-places—the khans—and often enough you will be away from them.”

“He is quite right,” said the professor calmly. “I was aware that we should sometimes have to encounter these troubles.”

“Humph! ’Pon my word!” grumbled Mr Burne. “Look here, Lawrence, let’s go back.”

“What for?” cried the lad flushing. “Oh, no! we must go on.”

The professor glanced at him quickly, and smiled in his calm grave way before turning to the landlord.

“You have not given us your advice,” he said.

“It is very simple, gentlemen, and it is this: Take with you a man who knows the country well, who can act as guide, and from his frequent travels there can speak two or three languages—a faithful trusty fellow who will watch over you, guard you from extortion, and be ready to fight, if needs be, or force the people he comes among to give you or sell you what you need.”

“Oh! but are they such savages as this—so near to the more civilised places of the East?”

“Quite, sir,” replied the landlord.

“And where is this pearl among men to be found?” said the professor with a slight sneer. “Do you know such a one?”

“Yes, sir; he only returned from a journey yesterday. I happened to see him this morning, and thought directly of you.”

“Would he go with us?” said the old lawyer quickly.

“I cannot say for certain,” was the reply; “but if you will give me leave I will see him and sound him upon the subject.”

“Humph!” from the old lawyer.

“He has just been paid, and would no doubt like to stay and rest here a little while, but I daresay I could prevail upon him to go with you if he saw you first.”

“Then he is to be the master, not we?”

“Well, gentlemen, I don’t say that,” said the landlord smiling; “but people out here are very different to what they are at home. I have learned by bitter experience how independent they can be, and how strong their natural dislike is to Christians.”

“This man is not a Christian, then?”

“Oh, no, sir! a Muslim, a thorough-going Turk.”

“He will not carry his religious feelings to the pitch of pushing us over some precipice in the mountains, eh? and then come home thinking he has done a good work, eh, Mr Landlord?” said the old lawyer.

“Oh, no! I’ll answer for his integrity, sir. If he engages to go with you, have no hesitation in trusting him with your baggage, your arms, your purses if you like. If he undertakes to be your guide, he will lose his life sooner than see you robbed of a single piastre.”

“And what will he require?” said Mr Burne shortly; “what pay?”

“Very moderate, gentlemen, and I promise you this, that if I can persuade him to go with you, the cost of paying him will be saved out of your expenses. I mean that you will spend less with him than you would without.”

“And he knows something of the country?”

“A great deal, gentlemen. Shall I see if I can get him to go?”

“By all means,” cried the two elders in a breath.

“If he consents I will bring him to you. I beg pardon, I am wrong. I must bring him to see you first before he will consent.”

“Then, as I said before, he is to be the master, not we,” said the professor.

“No, no, sir, you must not take it like that. The man is independent, and need not undertake this journey without he likes. Is it surprising, then, that if he should come and see you, and not liking your appearance, or the prospect of being comfortable in your service, he should decline to go?”

“You are quite right,” said Mr Burne. “I would not.”

Chapter Eight.Yussuf the Guide.At breakfast-time the next morning the landlord came and announced that Yussuf was in waiting. A few minutes later he ushered in a rather plain-looking, deeply-bronzed, middle-aged man, who, at the first glance, seemed to have nothing whatever to recommend him. As a nation his people are good-looking and dignified. Yussuf was rather ill-looking and decidedly undignified. He did not seem muscular, or active, or clever, or agreeable, or to have good eyes. He was not even well dressed. But upon further examination there was a hardened wiry look about the man, and a stern determined appearance in the lines of his countenance, while the eyes that did not seem to be good, so sunken were they beneath his brow, and so deeply shaded, were evidently keen and piercing. They seemed to flash as they met those of the old lawyer, to look defiant as they encountered the professor’s searching gaze, and then to soften as they were turned upon Lawrence,as he lay back in his chair rather exhausted by the heat.A few questions were asked on either side, the newcomer speaking very good English, and also grasping the professor’s Arabic at once. In fact, it appeared evident that he was about to decline to accompany the party; but the words spoken sonorously by the professor seemed to make him hesitate, as if the fact of one of the party speaking the familiar tongue gratified him, but still he hesitated.Just then, he hardly knew why, but attracted by the eyes of the Turk, which were fixed upon him gravely, and in a half-pitying manner, Lawrence rose and approached.“I hope you will go with us,” he said quickly.Yussuf took his hand and held it, gazing in the lad’s face earnestly, as a pleasant smile illumined his own.“You are weak and ill,” he said softly. “The wind that blows in the mountains will make you strong.”Then turning slowly to the others he saluted them gravely.“Effendis,” he said, “I am thy servant. Allah be with us in all our journeyings to and fro. I will go.”“I am glad!” cried Lawrence.“And so am I,” said the professor, hesitating for a moment, and then holding out his hand, which Yussuf took respectfully, held for a moment, and then turned to Mr Burne.“Oh, all right, shake hands,” said the latter, “if it’s the custom of the country; and now about terms.”“Leave me to settle that with Yussuf,” said the landlord hastily, and he and the Muslim left the room.“Seems queer to begin by being inspected, and then shaking hands with the servant we engage, eh, professor?” said Mr Burne.“The man is to be more than servant,” replied Mr Preston; “he is to be our guide and companion for months. He repelled me at first, but directly he spoke in that soft deep voice there seemed to me to be truth in every accent. He is a gentleman at heart, and I believe we have found a pearl. What do you say, Lawrence?”“He made me like him directly he looked in my eyes, and I am very glad he is going.”“I repeat my words,” said the professor.“Well, I mustn’t quarrel, I suppose. My back’s too bad; so I throw in my lot with you, and say I am glad, and good luck to us.”“Amen,” said the professor gravely; “but I like our guide’s way of wishing success the better of the two.”

At breakfast-time the next morning the landlord came and announced that Yussuf was in waiting. A few minutes later he ushered in a rather plain-looking, deeply-bronzed, middle-aged man, who, at the first glance, seemed to have nothing whatever to recommend him. As a nation his people are good-looking and dignified. Yussuf was rather ill-looking and decidedly undignified. He did not seem muscular, or active, or clever, or agreeable, or to have good eyes. He was not even well dressed. But upon further examination there was a hardened wiry look about the man, and a stern determined appearance in the lines of his countenance, while the eyes that did not seem to be good, so sunken were they beneath his brow, and so deeply shaded, were evidently keen and piercing. They seemed to flash as they met those of the old lawyer, to look defiant as they encountered the professor’s searching gaze, and then to soften as they were turned upon Lawrence,as he lay back in his chair rather exhausted by the heat.

A few questions were asked on either side, the newcomer speaking very good English, and also grasping the professor’s Arabic at once. In fact, it appeared evident that he was about to decline to accompany the party; but the words spoken sonorously by the professor seemed to make him hesitate, as if the fact of one of the party speaking the familiar tongue gratified him, but still he hesitated.

Just then, he hardly knew why, but attracted by the eyes of the Turk, which were fixed upon him gravely, and in a half-pitying manner, Lawrence rose and approached.

“I hope you will go with us,” he said quickly.

Yussuf took his hand and held it, gazing in the lad’s face earnestly, as a pleasant smile illumined his own.

“You are weak and ill,” he said softly. “The wind that blows in the mountains will make you strong.”

Then turning slowly to the others he saluted them gravely.

“Effendis,” he said, “I am thy servant. Allah be with us in all our journeyings to and fro. I will go.”

“I am glad!” cried Lawrence.

“And so am I,” said the professor, hesitating for a moment, and then holding out his hand, which Yussuf took respectfully, held for a moment, and then turned to Mr Burne.

“Oh, all right, shake hands,” said the latter, “if it’s the custom of the country; and now about terms.”

“Leave me to settle that with Yussuf,” said the landlord hastily, and he and the Muslim left the room.

“Seems queer to begin by being inspected, and then shaking hands with the servant we engage, eh, professor?” said Mr Burne.

“The man is to be more than servant,” replied Mr Preston; “he is to be our guide and companion for months. He repelled me at first, but directly he spoke in that soft deep voice there seemed to me to be truth in every accent. He is a gentleman at heart, and I believe we have found a pearl. What do you say, Lawrence?”

“He made me like him directly he looked in my eyes, and I am very glad he is going.”

“I repeat my words,” said the professor.

“Well, I mustn’t quarrel, I suppose. My back’s too bad; so I throw in my lot with you, and say I am glad, and good luck to us.”

“Amen,” said the professor gravely; “but I like our guide’s way of wishing success the better of the two.”

Chapter Nine.Yussuf is Suspicious.Lawrence watched anxiously for the arrival of the new guide Yussuf on the day appointed for sailing. There had been one more disappointment, the Greek having declared that he must have another day before he would be ready, but there was no further delay.Yussuf came to say that he had examined the boat, that it was good, seaworthy, and well manned by a stout little crew of sailors, but that he was very much dissatisfied with the accommodation prepared for the gentlemen.He had not been told to report upon this matter, and his evident quiet eagerness to serve his employers well was satisfactory.“We expect to rough it,” said the professor. “It will not be for long.”Yussuf shrugged his shoulders, and said as he looked hard at Lawrence:“It may be long, effendi. The winds perhaps light, and there are storms.”“I am afraid we must risk these troubles; and besides, it is a coasting trip, and we should be able to run into some port.”Yussuf bowed.“I thought it my duty to tell his excellency of the state of the boat,” he said; and then, in an earnest busy way, he asked about the baggage to go on board, and provisions, promising to bring up a couple of the Greek sailors to carry down what was necessary.In the course of the afternoon this was done, the consul visited and parted from in the most friendly manner, Lawrence’s eyes brightening as the official rested his hand upon his shoulder, and declared in all sincerity that he could see an improvement in him already.The landlord endorsed this remark too on parting, and he as well as the consul assured the little party that, if anything could be done to help them, a message would receive the most earnest attention.“You think we shall get into trouble, then?” Lawrence ventured to say, but shrank back directly he had spoken, with his cheeks flushed and heart beating, for his long illness had made him effeminate.“I think it possible,” said the landlord smiling; “but I sincerely hope you will not. In fact, with a man like Yussuf your risks are greatly reduced. Good-bye, gentlemen, and I shall look forward to seeing you again on your way back.”“Bravo, Lawrence!” cried the professor, clapping him on the shoulder. “I had been thinking the same thing; now I am sure of it.”“I don’t understand you,” said the lad wiping his face, for the perspiration was standing in a fine dew all over his brow.“Why, both Mr Thompson and the landlord here said that you were better, and you have just shown me that you are.”“How, Mr Preston?” said the lad bashfully.“By the way in which you just now spoke out, my boy,” said Mr Burne, joining in. “Why, you couldn’t have spoken like that before we started. You are not much better now; but when we settled to come on this trip you were as weak and bashful as a delicate girl. Preston, we shall make a man of him after all.”They were walking towards the landing-place nearest to where the Greek’s boat lay, and further conversation was stayed by Yussuf coming to them.“The boatman will not believe, excellencies,” he said, “that there is no more luggage. Have I got all?”“Yes; all our luggage went on by the steamer to Ansina.”Yussuf bowed and went back to the landing-place, where a small boat manned by the Greek and one of his men was in waiting, and in the travellers’ presence Yussuf explained about their belongings.The Greek listened with rather a moody expression, but said no more; and in a very short time the little party were pulled to the side of a long light craft, about the burden of a large west country fishing lugger, but longer, more graceful in shape, and with the fore-part pretty well cumbered with baskets, which exhaled the familiar ether-like odour of oranges.The accommodation was very spare, but, as the weather was deliciously fine, there was little hardship in roughing it in the open—provision being made for the invalid to stay in shelter as much as he liked.They began to find the value of their guide at once, for he eagerly set to work to find them seats by improvising places in the stern; showing how he had arranged the provisions and fresh water, and offering Lawrence some ripe grapes as he made him comfortable where he would be out of the way of the men hoisting sail, and getting clear of the many boats lying at hand. First one and then the other long tapering sail was hoisted, each looking like the wing of a swallow continued to a point, as it stretched out to the tip of the curved and tapering spar; and as these filled the light vessel careened over, and began to glide swiftly through the bright blue sea.After lending some help the Greek skipper went behind his passengers to the helm, his crew of three swarthy-looking fellows, each with his knife in his belt, threw themselves down amongst the baskets forward, and as the passengers stood or sat watching the glorious panorama of town, coast, and shipping they were passing, Yussuf calmly shook his loose garment about him, squatted down beside the low bulwark, and lighting a water-pipe began to smoke with his eyes half closed, and as if there was nothing more to trouble about in life.“’Pon my word!” said the old lawyer. “What a place this boat seems to be for practising the art of doing nothing comfortably!”“Yes,” said the professor, taking in the scene on board at a glance. “It is typical of the East. You must get westward to see men toiling constantly like ants. The word business does not belong to these lands.”“You are right,” said Mr Burne.“Well, it is the custom of the country,” continued the professor, “and while we have no hard travel to do, let us follow these people’s example, and watch and think.”“There is no room to do anything else,” said Mr Burne grumpily.“How delicious!” said Lawrence as if to himself.“What, those grapes!” said the professor smiling.“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Lawrence, starting and flushing again like a girl. “No: I meant sitting back here, and feeling this beautiful soft breeze as we glide through the blue sea.”“You like it then?” said Mr Burne smiling.“Oh, yes! I don’t know when I felt so well and happy. It is delightful.”“That’s right,” cried Mr Burne. “Come, now; we must throw the invalid overboard.”Lawrence laughed.“I mean the disease,” said Mr Burne. “No more talking about being ill.”“No,” said Lawrence quietly, and speaking as if he felt every word he uttered to be true; “I feel now as if I were growing better every hour.”“And so you are,” cried the professor. “Come, don’t think about yourself, but set to work and take photographs.”“Nonsense!” cried Mr Burne; “let the boy be, now he is comfortable. Photographs indeed! Where’s your tackle?”“I mean mental photographs,” said the professor laughing.“Then, why didn’t you say so, man? Good gracious me, if we lawyers were to write down one thing when we mean another, a pretty state of affairs we should have. The world would be all lawsuits. Humph; who’d think that Smyrna was such a dirty, shabby place, to look at it from here?”“A lovely scene certainly!” said the professor. “Look, Lawrence, how well the mountain stands out above the town.”“Humph, yes; it’s very pretty,” said the lawyer; “but give me Gray’s Inn with its plane-trees, or snug little Thavies’ Inn. This place is a sham.”“But it is very beautiful seen from here, Mr Burne,” said Lawrence, who was feasting on the glorious sunlit prospect.“Paint and varnish, sir, over rotten wood,” snorted Mr Burne. “Look at the drainage; look at the plagues and fevers and choleras they get here.”“Yes,” said the professor, “at times.”“Bah! very pretty, of course, but nothing like London.”“With its smoke,” said the professor.“Fine healthy thing, sir,” cried the old gentleman. “Magnificent city, London!”“And its darkness and fogs,” said Lawrence.“Well, who minds a bit of fog, so long as he is well?” cried Mr Burne. “Look here, young man; don’t you find fault with your own land. Stick up for it through thick and thin.”“For all of it that is good, my lad,” said the professor merrily, “but don’t uphold the bad.”“Bad, sir! There’s precious little that’s bad in London. If you want to go a few hundred miles there, you can go at any time and get good accommodation. Not be forced to ride in a market-boat with hard seats. Bless me, they are making my back bad again.”“Oh, but, Mr Burne, look, look, the place here is lovely!”“Oh, yes, lovely enough, but, as the fellow said, it isn’t fit to live in long; it’s dangerous to be safe.”“What do you mean?”“Earthquakes, sir. If you take a house in London, you know where you are. If you take one here, as the fellow said, where are you? To-day all right, to-morrow shaken down by an earthquake shock, or swallowed up.”“There are risks everywhere,” said the professor, who seemed to be gradually throwing off his dreamy manner, and growing brighter and more active, just as if he had been suffering from a disease of the mind as Lawrence had of the body.“Risks? Humph! yes, some; but by the time we’ve finished our trip, you’ll all be ready to say, There’s no place like home.”“Granted,” said the professor.“Why, you’re not tired of the journey already, Mr Burne?”“Tired? No, my boy,” cried the old man smiling. “I’m in a bad temper to-day, that’s all. This seat is terribly hard and—oh, I know what’s the matter. I’m horribly hungry.”He turned his head to see that Yussuf had finished and put away his pipe, and was busy over one of the baskets of provisions, from which he produced a cloth and knives and forks, with a bottle of wine and several other necessaries, which his forethought had suggested; and in a short time the travellers were enjoying a rough but most palatableal frescomeal in the delicious evening, with the distant land glowing with light of a glorious orange, and the deep blue sea dappled with orange and gold.“We have plenty of provisions, I suppose,” said the professor.“Yes, effendi, plenty,” said Yussuf, who had been taking his portion aside.“Then pass what is left here to the skipper and his men.”Yussuf bowed gravely, and the men, who had been making an evening meal of blackish bread and melons, were soon chattering away forward, eating the remains of the meal and drinking a bottle of the Greek wine Lawrence took them.The tiller had been lashed so as to set the Greek skipper at liberty, and the travellers were alone, while, wearied by his extra exertion, Lawrence lay back, apparently fast asleep, when Yussuf approached the professor and his companion, with his water-pipe which he was filling with tobacco, and about which and with a light, he busied himself in the most matter-of-fact manner.But Yussuf was thinking of something else beside smoke, for he startled the professor and made Mr Burne jump and drop his cigar, as he said in a low voice:“Your excellencies are well-armed, of course?”“Armed?” exclaimed the professor.Yussuf did not speak, but stooped to pick up the fallen cigar, which he handed to its owner.“Be calm, excellency,” he said smiling, “and tell me.”The professor looked at him suspiciously; but there was that in the man’s countenance that disarmed him, and he said quietly: “We certainly have plenty of arms.”“That is good,” said Yussuf, with a flash of the eye.“But our weapons are packed up with our luggage, and went on by the steamer.”“That is bad,” said Yussuf quietly.“We never thought they would be necessary till we got ashore.”“Look here, my man,” said Mr Burne; “speak out. Are you suspicious of these people?”“My life has taught me to be suspicious, effendi,” said Yussuf, lighting his pipe, “particularly of the low-class Greeks. They are not honest.”“But surely,” began the professor.“Be perfectly calm, effendi,” said Yussuf, pointing shoreward, and waving his hand as if telling the name of some place. “I have nothing certain against this Greek and his men; but we are out at sea and at their mercy.”“But something has happened to make you speak like this,” said Mr Burne with a searching look.“A trifle, effendi,” replied the Muslim; “but a little cloud like that yonder,”—pointing seaward now beyond the Greek sailors, so that the travellers could see that they were watched by the skipper—“is sometimes the sign of a coming storm.”“Then what have you seen?” said Mr Burne suspiciously.“A trifle—almost nothing, effendi, only that the man there was out of temper when he found that all your baggage had gone.”“Humph!” ejaculated Mr Burne. “Then you think there is danger?” said the professor.“I do not say that,” said Yussuf, pointing shoreward again, “but your excellencies may as well learn your lessons at once. We are commencing our journey, and are now, as we generally shall be, at the mercy of men who obey the laws when they feel the rod over their backs, but who, when they cannot see the rod, laugh at them.”“What do you ask us to do, then?” said the professor quickly.“Be always on guard, but never show it. Be prepared for danger. If there is none, so much the better. Life here is a little matter compared to what I am told it is among you Franks, and it becomes every man’s duty to guard his life.”“But these Greek sailors?” said Mr Burne sharply.“I do not trust them,” replied Yussuf calmly. “If we are the stronger they will be our slaves. If they feel that they are, our lives would not be safe if they had the chance to rob us. They believe your excellencies to be rich and to have much gold.”“Look here, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne uneasily, “our friend ashore gave you a capital character.”“I have eaten salt with your excellencies, and my life is yours,” replied Yussuf.“Then what would you do now?”“Be perfectly calm, effendi, and treat these men if you did not know fear.”“And we have no arms,” said Mr Burne uneasily.“Can your excellency fight?” said Yussuf quietly.“A law case—yes, with any man, but any other case of fighting—good gracious me, no. I have not fought since I had a black eye at school.”“But you can, effendi?” continued Yussuf, looking with admiration at the professor’s broad chest and long muscular arms.“I daresay I can, if I am driven to it,” replied the professor gravely; and he involuntarily clenched a large, hard, bony hand.“Yes,” said Yussuf, with a grave smile of satisfaction. “Your excellency can fight, I see.”“But we are entirely without arms,” repeated Mr Burne excitedly.“Not quite,” replied Yussuf calmly. “Your excellency has a big stick; the effendi here has hands and strength that would enable him to throw an enemy into the sea, and I never go a journey without my pistol and a knife.”“You have a pistol?” said Mr Burne eagerly.“Be quite calm, excellency,” said Yussuf, laughing as he smoked, and bowing down as if something droll had been said. “Yes, I have a pistol of many barrels given to me by a Frankish effendi when we returned from a journey through the land of Abraham, and then down to the stony city in the desert—Petra, where the Arab sheiks are fierce and ready to rob all who are not armed and strong.”“Where is it?” said the professor.“Safe in my bosom, effendi, where my hand can touch it ere you blink an eye. So you see that we are not quite without arms. But listen,” he continued; “this may be all a fancy of mine.”“Then you will do nothing?” exclaimed Mr Burne.“Oh no, I do not say that, effendi. We must be watchful. Two must sleep, and two must watch night or day. The enemy must not come to the gate and find it open ready for him to enter in.”“Those are the words of wisdom,” said the professor gravely, and Yussuf’s eyes brightened and he bowed.“This watchfulness,” he said, “may keep the enemy away if there be one. If there be none: well, we have taught ourselves a lesson that will not be thrown away.”“Why, Yussuf, I am beginning to think you are a treasure!” exclaimed Mr Burne.Yussuf bowed, but he did not look pleased, for he had not warmed towards the old lawyer in the slightest degree. He had been met with distrust, and he was reserved towards him who showed his doubt so openly.“I thought it was but just, effendis, to warn you, and I thought it better to say so now, while the young effendi is asleep, for fear he might be alarmed.”“I am not asleep,” said Lawrence turning his head. “I have not been to sleep.”“Then you have heard all that was said,” exclaimed the professor.“Every word, Mr Preston. I could not help hearing,” said Lawrence, sitting up with his face flushed and eyes brightened. “I did not know till just now that I was not expected to hear.”“Humph, and do you feel alarmed?” said the old lawyer.“I don’t think I do, sir,” replied the lad calmly. “Perhaps I should if—if there should be a fight.”“I do not think there will be,” said the professor quietly. “Yussuf here has warned us, and forewarned is forearmed.”“Even if we have no pistols, eh?” said Mr Burne laughing, but rather acidly. “Humph, here comes the skipper.”The Greek came aft smiling and unlashed the tiller, altering their course a little, so that as the evening breeze freshened they seemed literally to skim along the surface of the sea.

Lawrence watched anxiously for the arrival of the new guide Yussuf on the day appointed for sailing. There had been one more disappointment, the Greek having declared that he must have another day before he would be ready, but there was no further delay.

Yussuf came to say that he had examined the boat, that it was good, seaworthy, and well manned by a stout little crew of sailors, but that he was very much dissatisfied with the accommodation prepared for the gentlemen.

He had not been told to report upon this matter, and his evident quiet eagerness to serve his employers well was satisfactory.

“We expect to rough it,” said the professor. “It will not be for long.”

Yussuf shrugged his shoulders, and said as he looked hard at Lawrence:

“It may be long, effendi. The winds perhaps light, and there are storms.”

“I am afraid we must risk these troubles; and besides, it is a coasting trip, and we should be able to run into some port.”

Yussuf bowed.

“I thought it my duty to tell his excellency of the state of the boat,” he said; and then, in an earnest busy way, he asked about the baggage to go on board, and provisions, promising to bring up a couple of the Greek sailors to carry down what was necessary.

In the course of the afternoon this was done, the consul visited and parted from in the most friendly manner, Lawrence’s eyes brightening as the official rested his hand upon his shoulder, and declared in all sincerity that he could see an improvement in him already.

The landlord endorsed this remark too on parting, and he as well as the consul assured the little party that, if anything could be done to help them, a message would receive the most earnest attention.

“You think we shall get into trouble, then?” Lawrence ventured to say, but shrank back directly he had spoken, with his cheeks flushed and heart beating, for his long illness had made him effeminate.

“I think it possible,” said the landlord smiling; “but I sincerely hope you will not. In fact, with a man like Yussuf your risks are greatly reduced. Good-bye, gentlemen, and I shall look forward to seeing you again on your way back.”

“Bravo, Lawrence!” cried the professor, clapping him on the shoulder. “I had been thinking the same thing; now I am sure of it.”

“I don’t understand you,” said the lad wiping his face, for the perspiration was standing in a fine dew all over his brow.

“Why, both Mr Thompson and the landlord here said that you were better, and you have just shown me that you are.”

“How, Mr Preston?” said the lad bashfully.

“By the way in which you just now spoke out, my boy,” said Mr Burne, joining in. “Why, you couldn’t have spoken like that before we started. You are not much better now; but when we settled to come on this trip you were as weak and bashful as a delicate girl. Preston, we shall make a man of him after all.”

They were walking towards the landing-place nearest to where the Greek’s boat lay, and further conversation was stayed by Yussuf coming to them.

“The boatman will not believe, excellencies,” he said, “that there is no more luggage. Have I got all?”

“Yes; all our luggage went on by the steamer to Ansina.”

Yussuf bowed and went back to the landing-place, where a small boat manned by the Greek and one of his men was in waiting, and in the travellers’ presence Yussuf explained about their belongings.

The Greek listened with rather a moody expression, but said no more; and in a very short time the little party were pulled to the side of a long light craft, about the burden of a large west country fishing lugger, but longer, more graceful in shape, and with the fore-part pretty well cumbered with baskets, which exhaled the familiar ether-like odour of oranges.

The accommodation was very spare, but, as the weather was deliciously fine, there was little hardship in roughing it in the open—provision being made for the invalid to stay in shelter as much as he liked.

They began to find the value of their guide at once, for he eagerly set to work to find them seats by improvising places in the stern; showing how he had arranged the provisions and fresh water, and offering Lawrence some ripe grapes as he made him comfortable where he would be out of the way of the men hoisting sail, and getting clear of the many boats lying at hand. First one and then the other long tapering sail was hoisted, each looking like the wing of a swallow continued to a point, as it stretched out to the tip of the curved and tapering spar; and as these filled the light vessel careened over, and began to glide swiftly through the bright blue sea.

After lending some help the Greek skipper went behind his passengers to the helm, his crew of three swarthy-looking fellows, each with his knife in his belt, threw themselves down amongst the baskets forward, and as the passengers stood or sat watching the glorious panorama of town, coast, and shipping they were passing, Yussuf calmly shook his loose garment about him, squatted down beside the low bulwark, and lighting a water-pipe began to smoke with his eyes half closed, and as if there was nothing more to trouble about in life.

“’Pon my word!” said the old lawyer. “What a place this boat seems to be for practising the art of doing nothing comfortably!”

“Yes,” said the professor, taking in the scene on board at a glance. “It is typical of the East. You must get westward to see men toiling constantly like ants. The word business does not belong to these lands.”

“You are right,” said Mr Burne.

“Well, it is the custom of the country,” continued the professor, “and while we have no hard travel to do, let us follow these people’s example, and watch and think.”

“There is no room to do anything else,” said Mr Burne grumpily.

“How delicious!” said Lawrence as if to himself.

“What, those grapes!” said the professor smiling.

“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed Lawrence, starting and flushing again like a girl. “No: I meant sitting back here, and feeling this beautiful soft breeze as we glide through the blue sea.”

“You like it then?” said Mr Burne smiling.

“Oh, yes! I don’t know when I felt so well and happy. It is delightful.”

“That’s right,” cried Mr Burne. “Come, now; we must throw the invalid overboard.”

Lawrence laughed.

“I mean the disease,” said Mr Burne. “No more talking about being ill.”

“No,” said Lawrence quietly, and speaking as if he felt every word he uttered to be true; “I feel now as if I were growing better every hour.”

“And so you are,” cried the professor. “Come, don’t think about yourself, but set to work and take photographs.”

“Nonsense!” cried Mr Burne; “let the boy be, now he is comfortable. Photographs indeed! Where’s your tackle?”

“I mean mental photographs,” said the professor laughing.

“Then, why didn’t you say so, man? Good gracious me, if we lawyers were to write down one thing when we mean another, a pretty state of affairs we should have. The world would be all lawsuits. Humph; who’d think that Smyrna was such a dirty, shabby place, to look at it from here?”

“A lovely scene certainly!” said the professor. “Look, Lawrence, how well the mountain stands out above the town.”

“Humph, yes; it’s very pretty,” said the lawyer; “but give me Gray’s Inn with its plane-trees, or snug little Thavies’ Inn. This place is a sham.”

“But it is very beautiful seen from here, Mr Burne,” said Lawrence, who was feasting on the glorious sunlit prospect.

“Paint and varnish, sir, over rotten wood,” snorted Mr Burne. “Look at the drainage; look at the plagues and fevers and choleras they get here.”

“Yes,” said the professor, “at times.”

“Bah! very pretty, of course, but nothing like London.”

“With its smoke,” said the professor.

“Fine healthy thing, sir,” cried the old gentleman. “Magnificent city, London!”

“And its darkness and fogs,” said Lawrence.

“Well, who minds a bit of fog, so long as he is well?” cried Mr Burne. “Look here, young man; don’t you find fault with your own land. Stick up for it through thick and thin.”

“For all of it that is good, my lad,” said the professor merrily, “but don’t uphold the bad.”

“Bad, sir! There’s precious little that’s bad in London. If you want to go a few hundred miles there, you can go at any time and get good accommodation. Not be forced to ride in a market-boat with hard seats. Bless me, they are making my back bad again.”

“Oh, but, Mr Burne, look, look, the place here is lovely!”

“Oh, yes, lovely enough, but, as the fellow said, it isn’t fit to live in long; it’s dangerous to be safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Earthquakes, sir. If you take a house in London, you know where you are. If you take one here, as the fellow said, where are you? To-day all right, to-morrow shaken down by an earthquake shock, or swallowed up.”

“There are risks everywhere,” said the professor, who seemed to be gradually throwing off his dreamy manner, and growing brighter and more active, just as if he had been suffering from a disease of the mind as Lawrence had of the body.

“Risks? Humph! yes, some; but by the time we’ve finished our trip, you’ll all be ready to say, There’s no place like home.”

“Granted,” said the professor.

“Why, you’re not tired of the journey already, Mr Burne?”

“Tired? No, my boy,” cried the old man smiling. “I’m in a bad temper to-day, that’s all. This seat is terribly hard and—oh, I know what’s the matter. I’m horribly hungry.”

He turned his head to see that Yussuf had finished and put away his pipe, and was busy over one of the baskets of provisions, from which he produced a cloth and knives and forks, with a bottle of wine and several other necessaries, which his forethought had suggested; and in a short time the travellers were enjoying a rough but most palatableal frescomeal in the delicious evening, with the distant land glowing with light of a glorious orange, and the deep blue sea dappled with orange and gold.

“We have plenty of provisions, I suppose,” said the professor.

“Yes, effendi, plenty,” said Yussuf, who had been taking his portion aside.

“Then pass what is left here to the skipper and his men.”

Yussuf bowed gravely, and the men, who had been making an evening meal of blackish bread and melons, were soon chattering away forward, eating the remains of the meal and drinking a bottle of the Greek wine Lawrence took them.

The tiller had been lashed so as to set the Greek skipper at liberty, and the travellers were alone, while, wearied by his extra exertion, Lawrence lay back, apparently fast asleep, when Yussuf approached the professor and his companion, with his water-pipe which he was filling with tobacco, and about which and with a light, he busied himself in the most matter-of-fact manner.

But Yussuf was thinking of something else beside smoke, for he startled the professor and made Mr Burne jump and drop his cigar, as he said in a low voice:

“Your excellencies are well-armed, of course?”

“Armed?” exclaimed the professor.

Yussuf did not speak, but stooped to pick up the fallen cigar, which he handed to its owner.

“Be calm, excellency,” he said smiling, “and tell me.”

The professor looked at him suspiciously; but there was that in the man’s countenance that disarmed him, and he said quietly: “We certainly have plenty of arms.”

“That is good,” said Yussuf, with a flash of the eye.

“But our weapons are packed up with our luggage, and went on by the steamer.”

“That is bad,” said Yussuf quietly.

“We never thought they would be necessary till we got ashore.”

“Look here, my man,” said Mr Burne; “speak out. Are you suspicious of these people?”

“My life has taught me to be suspicious, effendi,” said Yussuf, lighting his pipe, “particularly of the low-class Greeks. They are not honest.”

“But surely,” began the professor.

“Be perfectly calm, effendi,” said Yussuf, pointing shoreward, and waving his hand as if telling the name of some place. “I have nothing certain against this Greek and his men; but we are out at sea and at their mercy.”

“But something has happened to make you speak like this,” said Mr Burne with a searching look.

“A trifle, effendi,” replied the Muslim; “but a little cloud like that yonder,”—pointing seaward now beyond the Greek sailors, so that the travellers could see that they were watched by the skipper—“is sometimes the sign of a coming storm.”

“Then what have you seen?” said Mr Burne suspiciously.

“A trifle—almost nothing, effendi, only that the man there was out of temper when he found that all your baggage had gone.”

“Humph!” ejaculated Mr Burne. “Then you think there is danger?” said the professor.

“I do not say that,” said Yussuf, pointing shoreward again, “but your excellencies may as well learn your lessons at once. We are commencing our journey, and are now, as we generally shall be, at the mercy of men who obey the laws when they feel the rod over their backs, but who, when they cannot see the rod, laugh at them.”

“What do you ask us to do, then?” said the professor quickly.

“Be always on guard, but never show it. Be prepared for danger. If there is none, so much the better. Life here is a little matter compared to what I am told it is among you Franks, and it becomes every man’s duty to guard his life.”

“But these Greek sailors?” said Mr Burne sharply.

“I do not trust them,” replied Yussuf calmly. “If we are the stronger they will be our slaves. If they feel that they are, our lives would not be safe if they had the chance to rob us. They believe your excellencies to be rich and to have much gold.”

“Look here, Yussuf,” said Mr Burne uneasily, “our friend ashore gave you a capital character.”

“I have eaten salt with your excellencies, and my life is yours,” replied Yussuf.

“Then what would you do now?”

“Be perfectly calm, effendi, and treat these men if you did not know fear.”

“And we have no arms,” said Mr Burne uneasily.

“Can your excellency fight?” said Yussuf quietly.

“A law case—yes, with any man, but any other case of fighting—good gracious me, no. I have not fought since I had a black eye at school.”

“But you can, effendi?” continued Yussuf, looking with admiration at the professor’s broad chest and long muscular arms.

“I daresay I can, if I am driven to it,” replied the professor gravely; and he involuntarily clenched a large, hard, bony hand.

“Yes,” said Yussuf, with a grave smile of satisfaction. “Your excellency can fight, I see.”

“But we are entirely without arms,” repeated Mr Burne excitedly.

“Not quite,” replied Yussuf calmly. “Your excellency has a big stick; the effendi here has hands and strength that would enable him to throw an enemy into the sea, and I never go a journey without my pistol and a knife.”

“You have a pistol?” said Mr Burne eagerly.

“Be quite calm, excellency,” said Yussuf, laughing as he smoked, and bowing down as if something droll had been said. “Yes, I have a pistol of many barrels given to me by a Frankish effendi when we returned from a journey through the land of Abraham, and then down to the stony city in the desert—Petra, where the Arab sheiks are fierce and ready to rob all who are not armed and strong.”

“Where is it?” said the professor.

“Safe in my bosom, effendi, where my hand can touch it ere you blink an eye. So you see that we are not quite without arms. But listen,” he continued; “this may be all a fancy of mine.”

“Then you will do nothing?” exclaimed Mr Burne.

“Oh no, I do not say that, effendi. We must be watchful. Two must sleep, and two must watch night or day. The enemy must not come to the gate and find it open ready for him to enter in.”

“Those are the words of wisdom,” said the professor gravely, and Yussuf’s eyes brightened and he bowed.

“This watchfulness,” he said, “may keep the enemy away if there be one. If there be none: well, we have taught ourselves a lesson that will not be thrown away.”

“Why, Yussuf, I am beginning to think you are a treasure!” exclaimed Mr Burne.

Yussuf bowed, but he did not look pleased, for he had not warmed towards the old lawyer in the slightest degree. He had been met with distrust, and he was reserved towards him who showed his doubt so openly.

“I thought it was but just, effendis, to warn you, and I thought it better to say so now, while the young effendi is asleep, for fear he might be alarmed.”

“I am not asleep,” said Lawrence turning his head. “I have not been to sleep.”

“Then you have heard all that was said,” exclaimed the professor.

“Every word, Mr Preston. I could not help hearing,” said Lawrence, sitting up with his face flushed and eyes brightened. “I did not know till just now that I was not expected to hear.”

“Humph, and do you feel alarmed?” said the old lawyer.

“I don’t think I do, sir,” replied the lad calmly. “Perhaps I should if—if there should be a fight.”

“I do not think there will be,” said the professor quietly. “Yussuf here has warned us, and forewarned is forearmed.”

“Even if we have no pistols, eh?” said Mr Burne laughing, but rather acidly. “Humph, here comes the skipper.”

The Greek came aft smiling and unlashed the tiller, altering their course a little, so that as the evening breeze freshened they seemed literally to skim along the surface of the sea.

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