He spread out his arms toward us four, and grinned.

"Look--see! Four Eenglis sportman! Could a man want more?"

"Your face is hauntingly familiar," said the consul, searching old
memories.

"No doubt. Who carried your honor's letter to Adrianople in time
of war, and received a bullet, but brought the answer back?"

"What--are you that man--Kagig?"

Instead of replying the man opened his smock, and pulled aside an
undershirt until his hairy left breast lay bare down to where the
nipple should have been. Why a bullet that drilled that nipple so
neatly had not pierced the heart was simply mystery.

"Kagig, by jove! Kagig with a beard! Nobody would know you but
for that scar."

"But now you know me surely? Tell these Eenglis sportman, then,
that I am good man--good guide! Tell them they come with me to Zeitoon!"

The consul's face darkened swiftly, clouded by some notion that he
seemed to try to dismiss, but that refused to leave him.

"How much would you ask for your services?" he demanded.

"Whatever the effendim please."