or apparently no other reason than to stare at Mr Burne's
scarlet and yellow head-dress.

"I see," said Mr Preston quietly; "he evidently thinks Mr Burne here
is some great grandee. That fez and its adornments will be a protection
to us as you will see."

"Bah!" ejaculated the old lawyer; "now you are prophesying to another
tune, and one is as bad as the other. Give it up; you are no prophet.
Oh, how hungry I am!"

"And I," cried Lawrence.

"Well," said the professor gravely, "to be perfectly truthful, so am I.
Here, mine host," he said in Arabic, "bring us some more coffee."

The man bowed low, smiled, and left the room with the empty cups, and
returned directly after with them full, and after another glance at the
scarlet and yellow turban, he looked at the swords and pistols and
became more obsequious than ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

CATCHING A TARTAR.

If there had been any intention on the part of their host to deal
deceitfully with them, he would have had plenty of opportunity, during
about a couple of hours of the night, when it was the professor's turn
to keep watch, for he fell fast asleep, and was awakened by Yussuf, who
shook his head at him sadly.

Morning came bright and cheery, with the birds singing, and the view
from their window exquisite. Close at hand there were the mountains,
rising one above another, and rich with the glorious tints of the trees
and bushes that clung to their sides, and after gazing at the glorious
prospect, with the clear air and dazzling sunshine, Mr Burne exclaimed:

"Bless me! What an eligible estate to lay out in building plots!
Magnificent health resort! Beats Baden, Spa, Homburg, and all these
places, hollow."

"And where would you get your builders and your tenants?"

"Humph! Hah! I never thought of that. But really, Preston, what a
disgraceful thing it is that such a lovely country should go to ruin!
Hah! here's breakfast."

For at that moment their host came in, and in a short time good bread,
butter, yaourt or curd, coffee, and honey in the comb were placed before
them, and somehow, after a good night's rest, the travellers did not
find the owner of the house so very evil-looking.

"Oh, no, effendi, he is not a bad fellow. He bears no malice," said
Yussuf, "these men are used to it. They get so terribly robbed by
everyone who comes through the village that they refuse help on
principle till they are obliged to give it, when they become ci