Johnson, Redbrook, and the others return, rather mistrustfully
ushering in Sidi el Assif, attended by Osman and a troop of Arabs.
Brassbound's men keep together on the archway side, backing their
captain. Sidi's followers cross the room behind the table and
assemble near Sir Howard, who stands his ground. Drinkwater runs
across to Brassbound and stands at his elbow as he turns to face
Sidi.
Sidi el Aasif, clad in spotless white, is a nobly handsome Arab,
hardly thirty, with fine eyes, bronzed complexion, and
instinctively dignified carriage. He places himself between the
two groups, with Osman in attendance at his right hand.
OSMAN (pointing out Sir Howard). This is the infidel Cadi. (Sir
Howard bows to Sidi, but, being an infidel, receives only the
haughtiest stare in acknowledgement.) This (pointing to
Brassbound) is Brassbound the Franguestani captain, the servant of
Sidi.
DRINKWATER (not to be outdone, points out the Sheikh and Osman to
Brassbound). This eah is the Commawnder of the Fythful an is
Vizzeer Rosman.
SIDI. Where is the woman?
OSMAN. The shameless one is not here.
BRASSBOUND. Sidi el Assif, kinsman of the Prophet: you are
welcome.
REDBROOK (with much aplomb). There is no majesty and no might save
in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!
DRINKWATER. Eah, eah!
OSMAN (to Sidi). The servant of the captain makes his profession
of faith as a true believer.
SIDI. It is well.
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