"What can I do for you?" asked Monty.

"Listen to me!"

"Very well. I can spare fifteen minutes."

We all took seats together in a far corner of the dingy room, where the
Syrian barkeeper could not overhear us.

"My Lord, I am an Englishman!" Coutlass began. "I am a God-fearing,
law-abiding gentleman! I know where to look for the ivory that the
Arab villain Tippoo Tib has buried! I know how to smuggle it out of
Africa without paying a penny of duty--"

"Did you say law-abiding?" Monty asked.

"Surely! Always! I never break the law! As for instance--in Greece,
where I had the honor to be born, the law says no man shall carry a
knife or wear one in his belt. So, since I was a little boy I carry
none! I have none in my hand--none at my belt. I keep it here!"

He stooped, raised his right trousers leg, and drew from his Wellington
boot a two-edged, pointed thing almost long enough to merit the name of
rapier. He tossed it in the air, let it spin six or seven times end
over end, caught it deftly by the point, and returned it to its
hiding-place.

"I am a law-abiding man," he said, "but where the law leaves off, I
know where to begin! I am no fool!"