Egypt -- Fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Short stories
There was a rattle and gleam of falling ivory, for several of the
_bowwab's_ teeth had been dislodged by the steel barrel. Keeping the
weapon firmly thrust into the man's distended jaws, I circled around
him, whilst his hands relaxed their hold upon the strangling-cord,
and pushed him backward in the direction of the door.
"Open thou black son of offal!" I said, "or I will blow thee a cavity
as wide as thy blubber mouth through the back of that fat and greasy
neck! This was, no doubt, a stratagem of thy mistress to test my
fitness to be entrusted with large sums of money?"
When, a few moments later, I stood in the lane outside the gardens
of Yûssuf Bey, and felt with my hand the fat wallet at my waist,
I experienced a thrill of professional satisfaction, for had I not
successfully negotiated a duplicate veil, embroidered with imitation
pearls which the excellent Suleyman Levi by dint of four days of
almost ceaseless toil had made for me?...
From the shadows of the opposite wall Abû Tabâh stepped forth,
stately.
"Quick!" I said. "I fear pursuit at any moment! Is the _arabîyeh_
waiting?"
"You have it?" he demanded, some faint sign of human animation
creeping over his impassive face.
"I have!" I replied. "I will give it to you in the _arabîyeh_."
Side by side we passed down the deserted thoroughfare to where, beside
a solitary palm, a pair-horse carriage was waiting. Appreciating
something of my companion's natural impatience, I pressed into his
hand the famous sandalwood box which once had reposed in the _tarbûsh_
of Ali Mohammed. The carriage rolled around a corner and out into the
lighted Shâria Mobâdayân. Abû Tabâh opened the sandalwood box, and
then, reverently, the inner box of silver. Within shimmered the pearls
of the sacred _burko_. He did not touch the relic with his hands, but
reclosed the boxes and concealed the reliquary beneath his black robe.
I heard the crackle of notes; and a little packet surrounded by a band
of elastic was pressed into my hand.
"Three hundred pounds, English," said Abû Tabâh. "One hundred pounds
in recompense for the commission you returned, and two hundred pounds
for the recovery of the relic."
I thrust the wad into the bag beneath my robe containing the other
spoils of the evening. A second and even more grateful glow of
professional joy warmed my heart. For in the reliquary which I had
handed to Abû Tabâh reposed the second product of Suleyman Levi's
scientific toils; his four days' labor having resulted in the
production of two quite passable duplicates; although neither were by
any means up to the standard of Messrs. Moses, Murphy & Co.
Coming to the house wherein I had endued my disguise, Abû Tabâh left
me to metamorphose myself into a decently dressed Englishman suitable
for admission to an hotel of international repute.
"_Lîltâk sa'îda_, Abû Tabâh," I said.
In the open doorway he turned.
"_Lîltâk sa'îda_, Kernaby Pasha," he replied, and smiled upon me very
sweetly.
VI
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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