"Art thou an oarsman?" one of them asked.

"There is not a better on the Bosphorus. And I will prove it. Here, some
of you--take the beast off my hands. Fear not, friend, Joqard's worst
growl is inoffensive as thunder without lightning. That's a good man."

And with the words the hamari released the leading strap, sprang into
the boat, and without giving time for protest or remonstrance, threw off
his jacket and sandals, tucked up his shirt-sleeves, and dropped into
the vacant fifth seat. The dexterity with which he then unshipped the
oars and took them in hand measurably quieted the associates thus
audaciously adopted; his action was a kind of certificate that the right
man had been sent them.

"Believe in me," he said, in a low tone. "I have the two qualities which
will bring us home winners--skill and endurance." Then he spoke to the
Princess: "Noble lady, have I your consent to make a proclamation?"

The manner of the request was singularly deferential. Sergius observed
the change, and took a closer look at him while the Princess was giving
the permission.

Standing upon the seat, the hamari raised his voice: "Ho, here--there--
every one!" and drawing a purse from his bosom, he waved it overhead,
with a louder shout, "See!--a hundred noumiae, and not all copper either.
Piece against piece weighed or counted, I put them in wager! Speak one or
all. Who dares the chance?"

Takers of the offer not appearing on the shore, he shook the purse at
his competitors.