"Remember, effendi, if Yusuf come we go way
chabouk. You look at your picture all time--paint--
no look at her. If Yusuf come and catch us it make
trouble for her--make trouble for you--make more
trouble for me. Police Pasha don't know she come to
this garden--I think somebody must help her. You
better stop now and go cafe. I find Yusuf. I no
like this place."

With this Hornstog rose to his feet and began packing
the trap, still whispering, his eyes on the ground.
Never once did he look in the direction of the houri
peering through the sliding panel.

The clatter of a horse's hoofs now resounded
through the still air. A mounted officer was approaching.
Joe looked up, turned a light pea-green,
backed his body into the gate with the movement
of an eel, put his cheek close to the sliding panel,
and whispered some words in Turkish. The girl
leaned a little forward, glanced at the officer as if
in confirmation of Joseph's warning, and smothering
a low cry, sprang back from the opening. The next
instant my eye caught the thumb and forefinger of
a black hand noiselessly closing the panel. Joe
straightened up, pulled himself into the position of
a sentinel on guard, saluted the officer, who passed
without looking to the right or left, drew a handkerchief
from his pocket, and began mopping his head.