“I grant thee life, Abderrahman Yahiah Khan,” she said. “Tell me. How wilt thou pay for it?”
“How?” smiled the governor, rising; and, hereafter, he disregarded Hector completely, and addressed himself directly to the princess. “Ahee! Thou art indeed of the blood of the Gengizkhani, twin sister to the gray-wolf, and thou wilt appreciate my shrewdness—and my loyalty!”
And he proceeded to sketch a naïvely brutal plan by the help of which he would, in payment for his life “and a few minor things of which I shall talk presently, when thy heart, O Aziza Nurmahal, is less bloated with evil and bitter thoughts against me,” change sides. He would turn over his military establishment, including Musa Al-Mutasim's choice gang of ruffians and the rifles and ammunition which Mr. Preserved Higgins had given him, to the Tamerlanistan government, surrender the Cockney and the other saheb:
“… to be severely dealt with as, by Allah, they deserve! And, henceforth, I shall become a law-abiding citizen and a stout pillar of the state. It will be easy. A word from me to my captains will be sufficient. As to Musa Al-Mutasim, it may be advisable to have his head cut off. Thus,” he added, piously, “shall we all be happy and contented and save much blood. And”—he smiled, vulpinely—“Higgins saheb and the other saheb and perhaps Musa Al-Mutasim will pay, and then everything will be as Allah willeth.”
“Good, good!” cried the princess, to whose eastern brain all this seemed supreme logic and wisdom; and
