mistake, w'ich I'd 'ave done long ago if I could 'ave got
the Turks who've 'ad charge of me to understand Hinglish. I'm bound to
tell you, sir, that I'm on'y a groom in a Hinglish family, and makes no
pretence to be hanythink else, though circumstances 'as putt me in a
false position since I come 'ere. I 'ope your Pashaship won't think me
ungracious, sir, but I can't a-bear to sail under false colours."

To this speech Sanda Pasha listened with profound gravity, and puffed an
enormous cloud from his lips at its conclusion.

"Sit down," he said sternly.

Lancey obeyed.

"Light your cigarette."

There was a tone of authority in the Pasha's voice which Lancey did not
dare to resist. He lighted the cigarette.

"Look me in the _face_," said the Pasha suddenly, turning his piercing
grey eyes full on him guest.

Supposing that this was a prelude to an expression of doubt as to his
honesty, Lancey did look the Pasha full in the face, and returned his
stare with interest.

"Do you see this cut over the bridge of my nose?" demanded the Pasha.

Lancey saw it, and admitted that it must have been a bad one.

"And do you see the light that is blazing in these two eyes?" he added,
pointing to his own glowing orbs with a touch of excitement.

Lancey admitted that he saw the light, and began to suspect that the
Pasha was mad. At the same time he was struck by the sudden and very
great improvement in his friend's English.

"But for _you_," continued the Pasha, partly raising himself, "that cut
had never been, and the light of those eyes would now be quenched in
death!"

The Pasha looked at his guest more fixedly than ever, and Lancey, now
feeling convinced of his entertainer's madness, began to think uneasily
of the best way to humour him.

"Twenty years ago," continued the Pasha slowly and with a touch of
pathos in his tone, "I received this cut from a boy in a fight at
school," (Lancey thought that the boy must have been a bold fellow),
"and only the other day I was rescued by a man from the waters of the
Danube." (Lancey thought that, on the whole, it would have been well if
the man had left him to drown.) "The name of the boy and the name of the
man was the same. It was Jacob Lancey!"

Lancey's eyes opened and his lower jaw dropped. He sat on his cushion
aghast.

"Jacob Lancey," continued the Pasha in a familiar tone that sent a
thrill to the heart of his visitor, "hae ye forgotten your auld Scotch
freen'