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I have some pieces now, that, although they are not as fine as those of the English prince, could pick a son of Eblis off behind a rock, whether he be Egyptian or Druse. 'Hush! said Francis El Kazin. 'You love our host, Butros; these are not words that will please him 'Or me, my children, said Bishop Nicodemus.
At length they called again for rice, a custom which intimated that their appetite for meat was satisfied, and immediately Nubian slaves covered them with towels of fine linen fringed with gold, and, while they held their hands over the basin, poured sweet waters from the ewer. In the meantime, Butros Keramy opened his heart to Rafael Farah.
Ahmet Raslan the Druse and Butros Kerauney the Maronite, who agreed upon no other point, were resolved on this. And was it wonderful, for Butros had already received privately two hundred muskets since the arrival of Tancred, and Raslan had been promised in confidence a slice of the impending English loan by Fakredeen?
'He is sent here, I understand, said Butros Keramy, 'to ascertain for the Queen of the English whether the country is in favour of the Shehaabs. Could you believe it, but I was told yesterday at Deir el Kamar, that the English consul has persuaded the Queen that even the patriarch was against the Shehaabs? 'Is it possible? said Rafael Farah, a Maronite of the House of Eldadah.
'It must be the Druses who circulate these enormous falsehoods. 'Hush! said Young Syria, in the shape of Francis El Kazin, 'there is no longer Maronite or Druse: we are all Syrians, we are brothers. 'Then a good many of my brothers are sons of Eblis, said Butros Keramy. 'I hope he is not my father. 'Truly, I should like to see the mountain without the Maronite nation, said Rafael Farah.
'I begin, said Butros, quaffing a cup of the Vino d'Oro, 'to believe in nationality. 'It cannot be denied, said Rafael Farah, judiciously shaking his head, 'that the two nations were once under the same prince. If the great powers would agree to a Shehaab, and we could sometimes meet together in the present fashion, there is no saying, prejudices might wear off.
'I fear 'tis an affair of blood, said Rafael Farah. 'Taking horns was never an affair of blood, said Francis El Kazin. 'What should be an affair of blood, said Butros, 'if 'But nothing else but taking horns can be proved, said Francis El Kazin. 'There is a good deal in that! said Rafael Farah.
'Not because we were beaten, said Butros, who was brave enough. 'We were persuaded to that, said Rafael. 'By our monks, said Francis; 'the convents you are so proud of. 'They were deceived by sons of Eblis, said Butros. 'I never gave up my arms.
'This is a great day for Syria! to find the chiefs of both nations assembled at the castle of a Shehaab. Why am I here but to preach peace and love? And Butros Keramy, my friend, my dearly beloved brother Butros, if you wish to please the patriarch, your uncle, who loves you so well, you will no longer call Druses sons of Eblis. 'What are we to call them? asked Rafael Farah, pettishly.
"Belki!" he remarked significantly. "Perhaps his words are true! I have heard it whispered already by Lillie Nadowar, now the wife of Butros the confectioner. Moreover, I myself have seen hay on the stairs." "Huh?" exclaimed Murphy. "We'll soon find out. Come along you, Babu! Show me where you was seein' the hay."
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