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But the horsemen pursued after him, and by and by they came into the cemetery, and one of them peeped into the tomb and saw the Khoja. "Here is the man we saw!" cried the horseman; and he said to the Khoja, "What are you lying there for, and where are your clothes?" "The dead have no possessions, O Bedawee!" replied the Khoja. "I am buried here.
In fact, Mr. Weymouth, Karamaneh, as her name implies, was a slave." Weymouth glanced at the beautiful, troubled face with scarcely veiled distrust. "You don't look as though you had come from China, miss," he said, with a sort of unwilling admiration. "I do not come from China," replied Karamaneh. "My father was a pure Bedawee. But my history does not matter."
"No doubt these are Bedawee robbers," thought the Khoja, "who will kill me without remorse for the sake of the Cadi's ferejeh which I wear." And in much alarm he hastened towards a cemetery which he had perceived to be near. Here he quickly stripped off his clothes, and, having hidden them, crept naked into an empty tomb and lay down.
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