He drew nearer,
and listened closely.
"Well, now, my gentle gazelle, listen unto me," continued Lacey. He
suddenly leaned forward, and spoke in subdued but rapid tones. "Say,
Mahommed, once upon a time there was an American man, with a shock of red
hair, and a nature like a spring-lock. He went down to Mexico, with a
million or two of his own money got honestly by an undisputed will from
an undisputed father--you don't understand that, but it doesn't
matter--and with a few millions of other people's money, for to gamble in
mines and railways and banks and steamship companies--all to do with
Mexico what the Saadat has tried to do in Egypt with less money; but not
for the love of Allah, same as him. This American was going to conquer
like Cortez, but his name was Thomas Tilman Lacey, and he had a lot of
gall. After years of earnest effort, he lost his hair and the millions of
the Infatuated Conquistadores. And by-and-by he came to Cairo with a
thimbleful of income, and began to live again. There was a civil war
going on in his own country, but he thought that one out of forty
millions would not be strictly missed.
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