ADI. As I live, O Cadi, and thou, moon of loveliness, ye shall be
led back to Mogador with honor. And thou, accursed Brassbound, shall go
thither a prisoner in chains, thou and thy people. (Brassbound and his
men make a movement to defend themselves.) Seize them.

LADY CICELY. Oh, please don't fight. (Brassbound, seeing that his men
are hopelessly outnumbered, makes no resistance. They are made prisoners
by the Cadi's followers.)

SIDI (attempting to draw his scimitar). The woman is mine: I will not
forego her. (He is seized and overpowered after a Homeric struggle.)

SIR HOWARD (drily). I told you you were not in a strong position,
Captain Brassbound. (Looking implacably at him.) You are laid by the
heels, my friend, as I said you would be.

LADY CICELY. But I assure you--

BRASSBOUND (interrupting her). What have you to assure him of? You
persuaded me to spare him. Look at his face. Will you be able to
persuade him to spare me?

ACT III

Torrid forenoon filtered through small Moorish windows high up in the
adobe walls of the largest room in Leslie Rankin's house. A clean
cool room, with the table (a Christian article) set in the middle, a
presidentially elbowed chair behind it, and an inkstand and paper ready
for the sitter. A couple of cheap American chairs right and left of the
table, facing the same way as the presidential chair, give a judicial
aspect to the arrangement. Rankin is placing a little tray with a jug
and some glasses near the inkstand when Lady Cicely's voice is heard at
the door, which is behind him in the corner to his right.

LADE CICELY. Good morning. May I come in?

RANKIN. Certainly. (She comes in, to the nearest end of the table. She
has discarded all travelling equipment, and is dressed exactly as she
might be in Surrey on a very hot day.) Sit ye doon, Leddy Ceecily.

LADY CICELY (sitting down). How nice you've made the room for the
inquiry!

RANKIN (doubtfully). I could wish there were more chairs. Yon American
captain will preside in this; and that leaves but one for Sir Howrrd and
one for your leddyship. I could almost be tempted to call it a maircy
that your friend that owns the yacht has sprained his ankle and cannot
come. I misdoubt me it will not look judeecial to have Captain Kearney's
officers squatting on the floor.

LADY CICELY. Oh, they won't mind. What about the prisoners?

RANKIN. They are to be broat here from the town gaol presently.

LADY CICELY. And whe