"Here! Some of you lazy women, take my sword. Ayesha, bring me a chair. Souleima, fetch my slippers." He sank into the proffered chair with a sigh of satisfaction. The Effendi had been riding hard and was evidently tired. He was uncomfortable too, and needed a bath and grooming. A prickly black beard had grown upon his square chin, and perspiration had made little water courses in the dust upon his dark brown cheeks. He laid his right foot upon his left knee, slapped his hands side by side upon the high boot tops, and swept the court with inquiring eye. "_Barbounia_, eh?" he inquired of Ayesha, as his glance fell upon the string of half cleaned mullets. "Yes, Effendi." "Are they fresh, eh? Are they fresh?" "Fresh, Effendi? They are alive." "Brava, brava!" There was a softer note to his voice. "Well, get 'em ready; I haven't had anything to eat in twelve hours." "Yes, Effendi; immediately, Effendi." Ayesha trotted over to the hydrant and began scaling the mullets with commendable zeal. Kostakes seized the heel and toe of his boot and gave an ineffectual tug. Then he glanced about the court again. Souleima had not yet returned with the slippers. Ayesha was scratching away at the fish as though she were trying to break a record. The Effendi glanced sharply at Ferende! From mere force of habit he had not ordered her to do anything. In the stress of fatigue and immediate necessity, he had turned naturally to the two old wheel-horses of his harem. Ferende was holding her cigarette between two fingers of her left hand, and was gazing up into the mulberry tree with affected unconcern. Her lips were slightly parted and a little red spot glowed angrily in each cheek. At another time Kostakes might have thought her beautiful, but a new idol had been set up in his heart, crowding poor Ferende into the stale limbo of ex-favorites. "Here, you," he called harshly, "come and pull off my boots." Ayesha glanced over her shoulder at her lord and master. He was plainly not looking at her. She turned her face to the wall and chuckled. "Do you hear?" shouted Kostakes. "Throw away that cigarette and come here." Ferende turned as pale as death, but called to Ayesha, sweetly: "Don't you hear the Effendi, Ayesha? Run!" Kostakes sprang to his feet, and strode toward Ferende with uplifted riding whip. "None of that, you lazy drab! Who is master in this house, you or I? Come and pull off my boots or I'll cut blood out of you!" [Illustration: Come and pull off my boots or I'll lash you] Ferende obeyed, with a half counterfeit of a smile upon her pale lips, and revenge in her heart. "How long before dinner will be ready?" Kostakes called to Ayesha. "About twenty minutes, Effendi." "Call me as soon as it is ready. I shall be up in Panayota's room."