Mahommed Hassan slid forward into the room, and stood
still, impassive and gloomy. Lacey beckoned, and said grotesquely:
"'Come hither, come hither, my little daughter,
And do not tremble so!'"
A sort of scornful patience was in Mahommed's look, but he came nearer
and waited.
"Squat on the ground, and smile a smile of mirth, Mahommed," Lacey said
riotously. "'For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o'
the May!'"
Mahommed's face grew resentful. "O effendi, shall the camel-driver laugh
when the camels are lost in the khamsin and the water-bottle is empty?"
"Certainly not, O son of the spreading palm; but this is not a desert,
nor a gaudy caravan. This is a feast of all angels. This is the day when
Nahoum the Nefarious is to be buckled up like a belt, and ridden in a
ring. Where is the Saadat?"
"He is gone, effendi! Like a mist on the face of the running water, so
was his face; like eyes that did not see, so was his look. 'Peace be to
thee, Mahommed, thou art faithful as Zaida,' he said, and he mounted and
rode into the desert.
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