The Lighted Match

The Turk rose, pushing back his chair.

"Your words are illuminating." He spoke with a profound bow. "In serving

you, I shall bring honor to my children, and my children's children."

With the Turkish gesture of farewell, his fingers touching heart, lips

and forehead, he betook himself backward to the door.

Two hours later, alighting from a rickety victoria by the landing-stage,

Cara made her way between the two men, toward the waiting launch from

the Isis. Filthy looking Arabs, to the number of a dozen, rose out of

the shadows and crowded about the trio, pleading piteously for

backshish in the name of Allah. The party found itself forced back

towards the carriage, and Benton fingered the grip of the revolver in

his pocket as the other hand held the girl's arm. At the same moment

there was a sudden clamor of shouting and the patter of running feet.

Then the throng of beggars dropped back under the pelting blows from

heavy naboots in the hands of kavasses.

An instant later a stout Turk in official uniform broke through the

confusion, shouting imprecations.

"Back, you children of swine!" he declaimed. "Back to your mires, you

pigs! Do you dare to affront the great Pashas?" Then, turning

obsequiously, he bowed with profound apology. "It is a bitter sorrow

that you should be annoyed," he assured them, "but it is over."

"To whom have we the honor of expressing our thanks?" smiled Pagratide.

The Osmanli responded with a deprecating gesture of self-effacement.

"To one of the least of men," he said. "I am called Abdul Said Bey. I

am the humble servant of His Majesty, the Sultan--whom Allah preserve."

As the launch put off, the elliptical figure of Abdul Said Bey, on the

lowest step of the landing, speeded its departure with a gesture of

ceremonious farewell--fingers sweeping heart, lips and forehead. "If you

go to shop in Stamboul," he shouted after them, "have a care. The pigs

will cheat you--all save Mohammed Abbas."

When the reflected lights of the launch shimmered in vague downward

shafts at a distance, he turned and the scattered throng of beggars

regathered to group themselves about him with no trace of fear.

"You will know them when you see them in the bazaars?" he demanded. "You

shall be taught in time what is expected--likewise bastinadoed upon

your bare soles if you fail. Now you have only to remember the faces of

the Infidels. Go!" He swept out his hand and the Bedouins scattered like

rats into a dozen dark places.