'Oh, that's my horse,' I answered, interested. 'He's really quite a lamb.' 'Your horse! You don't mean that?' He said no more just then, but went indoors, and then out to the mission school to see the ladies. That evening he informed me: 'I shall not require your horse. I had no notion that it was so strong an animal when I suggested borrowing it. Old Casim at the school will hire one for me. I should be afraid lest such a valuable horse as yours might come to grief while in my charge.' That was his way of putting it. We watched the party start one early morning, the clergyman all smiles, the ladies in a flutter, all three mounted on hired chargers of the most dejected type, old Casim from the school attending them upon a jackass. Rashid addressed the last-named as he passed our house, applying a disgraceful epithet to his employment. The poor old creature wept. 'God knows,' he said, 'I would not choose such service. But what am I to do? A man must live. And I will save my lady's virtue if I can.' 'May Allah help thee!' said Rashid. 'Take courage; I have robbed his eyes.' I had no notion of his meaning at the time when, sitting on the balcony, I overheard this dialogue; but later in the day Rashid revealed to me two pairs of eyeglasses belonging to our guest. Without these glasses, which were of especial power, the reverend man could not see anything in detail. 'And these two pairs were all he had,' exclaimed Rashid with triumph. 'He always used to put them on when looking amorously at the ladies. The loss of them, please God, will spoil his pleasure.' CHAPTER XIV THE HANGING DOG Our English host possessed a spaniel bitch, which, being well-bred gave him much anxiety. The fear of mesalliances was ever in his mind, and furiously would he drive away the village pariahs when they came slinking round the house, with lolling tongues. One brown and white dog, larger than the others and with bristling hair, was a particular aversion, the thought of which deprived him of his sleep of nights; and not the thought alone, for that persistent suitor--more like a bear than any dog I ever saw--made a great noise around us in the darkness, whining, howling, and even scrabbling at the stable door. At length, in desperation, he resolved to kill him. One night, when all the village was asleep, we lay out on the balcony with guns and waited. After a while the shadow of a dog slinking among the olive trees was seen. We fired. The village and the mountains echoed; fowls clucked, dogs barked; we even fancied that we heard the cries of men. We expected the whole commune to rise up against us; but after a short time of waiting all was still again. Rashid, out in the shadows, whispered: 'He is nice and fat,' as if he thought that we were going to eat the dog. 'And is he dead?' I asked. 'Completely dead,' was the reply. 'Then get a cord and hang him to the balcony,' said my companion. 'His odour will perhaps attract the foxes.'