and children, to come to thee and ask thee for the hand of protection and the sweet salt of hospitality! I was a fool—a fool!”
“But—I thought that thou hadst a quarrel with Al Nakia.”
“I did—because of thee, soul of my soul!”
“Because of—me?”
“Yes—because of thee and of thy twin brother, the governor of the eastern marches …”
“May his soul pass quickly into the dark!” the other interjected with brotherly affection. And he asked: “What has that brother of mine, that son of a dog, to do with …”
“Everything. He came to court, speaking slurring words about thee—at least I thought then that they were slurring. He said how first thou hadst sent brave messages that thou wouldst conquer Tamerlanistan and wed the princess, and how afterwards thou didst show thyself a most base-born dog by giving up thy claims to the princess' hand for a turbanful of gold. I called thy brother a liar. There were words. Swords were drawn. Al Nakia took thy brother's part, and I defied him and came here—and now thou dost tell me—that indeed … Bismillah! I was a fool!”
And again he broke into raucous laughter, while the governor looked down, silent, meditative.
“Abderrahman,” said Koom Khan, rising, “it is against the blessed laws of decency for a Moslem to discuss a woman, to speak of her soul and heart and desires. To do so are the manners of infidel pigs. But—thou art my friend. Thou hast opened wide to
