Tell them not to be frightened, Abdul."
"He says you are not to be frightened," Abdul explained. A child
here sputtered with laughter. "Refrain from mirth," Farag cried.
"The afflicted of God is the guest of The Excellency Our
Governor. We are responsible for every hair of his head."
"He has none," a voice spoke. "He has the white and the shining
mange."
"Now tell them what I have come for, Abdul, and please keep the
umbrella well up. I think I shall reserve myself for my little
vernacular speech at the end."
"Approach! Look! Listen!" Abdul chanted. "The afflicted of God
will now make sport. Presently he will speak in your tongue, and
will consume you with mirth. I have been his servant for three
weeks. I will tell you about his undergarments and his perfumes
for his head."
He told them at length.
"And didst thou take any of his perfume bottles?" said Farag at
the end.
"I am his servant. I took two," Abdul replied.
"Ask him," said Farag's uncle, "what he knows about our
land-titles.
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