On foot again, his courtierly manner vanished in a twinkling.

"Joqard, Joqard? Where are you?"

Some one answered: "Here he is."

"Bring him quickly. For Joqard is an example to men--he is honest, and
tells no lies. He has made much money, and allowed me to keep it all,
and spend it on myself. Women are jealous of him, but with reason--he is
lovely enough to have been a love of Solomon's; his teeth are as pearls
of great price; his lips scarlet as a bride's; his voice is the voice of
a nightingale singing to the full moon from an acacia tree fronded last
night; in motion, he is now a running wave, now a blossom on a swaying
branch, now a girl dancing before a king--all the graces are his. Yes,
bring me Joqard, and keep the world; without him, it is nothing to me."

While speaking, from a jacket pocket he brought out the fan Lael had
thrown him from the portico, and used it somewhat ostentatiously to cool
himself. The Princess and her attendants laughed heartily. Sergius,
however, watched the man with a scarcely defined feeling that he had
seen him. But where? And he was serious because he could not answer.

Taking the leading strap, when Joqard was brought, the hamari scrupled
not to give the brute a hearty cuff, whereat the fishermen shook the
sails of the pavilion with laughter; then, standing Joqard up, he placed
one of the huge paws on his arm, and, with the mincing step of a lady's
page, they disappeared.