Yussuf the Guide; Or, the Mountain Bandits. George Manville Fenn
of course, man, of course. What did we come for? Go on, man, go on. Here, mister, show me one or two of these long carving knives.”
“Carving knives?” said the dealer. “I do not keep them.”
“Yes, you do: these,” said Mr. Burne, pointing to a case in which were several Eastern sabres.
“Oh, the swords!” said the dealer smiling. “Of course.”
“You are not going to buy one of these, are you, Mr. Burne?” said Lawrence eagerly.
“To be sure I am,” was the reply. “Why shouldn’t I play at soldiers if I like. There, what do you say to that?” he continued, drawing a light, keen-looking blade from its curved sheath. “Try it. Mind it don’t go off—I mean, don’t go slashing it round and cutting off the professor’s legs or my head. Can you lift it?”
“Oh, yes,” cried Lawrence, poising the keen weapon in his hand before examining its handsome silver inlaid hilt.
“Think that would do for me? Oh, dear me, what a twinge!”
“Yes, sir, admirably,” replied Lawrence.
“Then I don’t,” was the gruff retort. “Seems to me that it would just suit you. There, buckle on the belt.”
Lawrence did as he was told, but the belt was too large and had to be reduced.
“Hah! that’s better,” said Mr. Burne. “There, that’s a very handsome sword, Lawrence, and it will do to make you look fierce when we are in the country, and to hang up in your room at home to keep in memory of our journey. Will you accept it, my boy, as a present?”
“Oh, thank you,” cried the lad excitedly.
“Took a fancy to it as soon as you saw it, you young dog. I saw you!” cried the old lawyer chuckling. “There, now for a dagger or knife to go with it.”
The dealer produced one in an ornamental sheath directly, and explained that it was for use as a weapon, for hunting, or to divide food when on a journey.
“That will do, then, nicely. There, my boy, these are my presents. Now, Preston, I suppose we must each have one of these long choppers?”
“Yes, I think so,” replied the professor. “They will make us look more formidable.”
“Very well, then: choose one for me too, but I warn you, I shall fasten mine down in the sheath with gum. I’m not going to take mine out, for fear of cutting off somebody’s legs or wings, or perhaps my own.”
“You feel better now?” said the professor.
“Hold your tongue, sir—do! No: I don’t feel better. I had forgotten my pain, but now you’ve made me think about it again. There!—choose two swords and knives and let’s get back.”
Two plain useful sabres were selected, and the dealer received his orders to send the weapons to the hotel, after which the injured man was helped into a standing position, but not without the utterance of several groans. Then he was walked up and down the shop several times, ending by declaring himself much better.
“There, Lawrence!” he cried, “that’s the advantage of being an Englishman. Now, if I had been a Dutchman or a Frenchman I should have had myself carried back, sent for a couple of doctors, and been very bad for a month or two; but you see I’m better already, and I’m not going to give up to please the Grand Panjandrum himself. Dear me! bless my heart! panjandrum! Pan—pan—pan—jan—jan—jan—drum! Where did I hear that word?”
“In a sort of nursery ditty, sir,” said Lawrence laughing.
“To be sure I did,” cried the old man, “and I had forgotten it; but I say, don’t laugh like that, boy.”
“Why not, sir?”
“Because it will make us believe that you have been shamming all this time, and that you’re really quite well, thank you, sir!—eh?”
“I—I think I am better,” said Lawrence quickly. “I don’t know why, but I have not been thinking about being ill these last few days, everything is so bright and sunshiny here, you see.”
“Yes, I see,” said the old lawyer, giving the professor a peculiar look; and they went back to the hotel.
Chapter Seven.
The Greek Skipper.
“No, I can’t do it,” said Mr. Burne after several brave efforts; “I really am a good deal jarred, and it is quite impossible. I am quite right as long as I keep still, but in such pain if I move that I can hardly bear it.”
“Then we will put off the journey for a week,” said the professor decisively.
“And disappoint the lad?” said Mr. Burne. “No; you two must go.”
“How can you talk like that?” exclaimed Lawrence sharply, “when you have come on purpose to help me get strong again? Mr. Preston, we shall stay here—shall we not?”
“Of course,” replied the professor. “The enjoyment of our trip depends upon our being staunch to one another.”
Mr. Burne declared that it was absurd, and ridiculous, and nonsensical, and raked out a few other adjectives to give force to his sentiments, speaking in the most sour way possible; but it was very evident that he was highly pleased, and the steamer sailed without them.
The next day Mr. Burne was so stiff that he could not walk about; but he refused to see a doctor, and a week passed before he could move without pain. Then one morning he declared that he was mending fast, and insisted upon inquiries being made respecting the sailing of the next steamer that would stop at one or other of the little towns on the south coast; but there was nothing bound in that direction, nor likely to be for another fortnight.
“And all my fault!” cried Mr. Burne angrily. “Tut-tut-tut! Here, ring for the landlord.”
The landlord came and was questioned.
No, there was no possibility of a passage being made for quite a fortnight, unless the visitors would go in a small sailing boat belonging to one or the other of the trading crews.
The professor glanced at Lawrence, thought of the probable discomfort, and shook his head.
“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr. Burne sharply.
“We can make trips in steamers at anytime; but a trip in a Greek felucca, with real Greek sailors, is what I have longed for all my life. Eh, Lawrence, what do you say?”
“I think with you, sir, that it would be delightful—that is, if you are well enough to go.”
“Well enough to go! of course I am. I’m longing to be off. Only a bit stiff. Look here, landlord, see what you can do for us. One moment, though; these Greeks—they will not rob us and throw us overboard—eh?”
“No fear, sir. I’ll see that you go by a boat manned by honest fellows who come regularly to the port. Leave it to me.”
The landlord departed and the question was discussed. The professor was ready enough to go in the manner proposed so long as Lawrence felt equal to the task, and this he declared he was; and certainly, imperceptibly as it had come about, there was an improvement in his appearance that was most hopeful.
The principal part of their luggage had gone on by steamer, and would be lying waiting for them at Ansina, a little port on the south coast which had been considered a suitable starting-point; and they had been suffering some inconvenience, buying just such few things as would do to make shift with till they