“I opine this is the worst part of Damascus?” he observed. “On the contrary,” said Dunbar Budthorne, “it is far from being the worst part. This is quite respectable—almost swell, to use a vulgar word.” “Well, I certain am a plenty disappointed,” muttered the Texan. “She isn’t just as I expected her to be.” Dick questioned Dunbar about the annoyance to which he and Nadia had been subjected since arriving in the city. “I may as well tell the cause of it,” said Budthorne, although Nadia showed confusion and shook her head warningly. “It’s all right, sister. You were not to blame.” Brad wondered at her confusion and detected her in the act of casting a glance of apprehension toward him. “On the steamer coming from Smyrna to Beirut,” said Dunbar, “we chanced to meet a very handsome and distinguished-appearing Turkish gentleman, who was called Hafsa Pasha. Although scarcely more than thirty years of age, he had traveled a great deal and had spent two years in the United States. He was educated, cultured, refined in manner, and a splendid traveling companion. Both Nadia and myself enjoyed his company very much. He told us he was bound for Damascus on business that concerned the Turkish government. He had been here before, and, therefore, he was able to give us much information of value and save us many petty annoyances. “I confess that we both became exceedingly interested in this man. He was a scholar and could quote Shakespeare and Burns—even Longfellow! I think he had read Byron, but he confessed a natural prejudice for the great English poet who became the idol of Greece. “At first neither Nadia nor I saw anything offensive in his manners. True, he was inclined to quote Burns to Nadia whenever he could find the opportunity, but she thought nothing of that until he made love to her pointblank.” Buckhart gurgled a little deep down in his throat. “Then,” continued Budthorne, “Nadia began to grow alarmed. She tried to avoid him, but every way she turned he seemed to bob up before her. She tried to keep him at a distance without offending him. Before we reached Beirut he proposed outright.” Again Buckhart gurgled. “He would not take no for an answer. In every way possible he sought to induce her to consider his proposal. At last he seemed to lose control of himself. In an hour we would be in Beirut. He found her alone on the after deck. I came up just in time to see him catch her in his arms and try to kiss her. We had an encounter, and I confess that he got rather the best of it, although I hit him in the face. That blow seemed to arouse a sleeping savage in him, for he cursed me and called me a dog of an infidel, swearing he would make me weep drops of blood for that insult.