PADDY MAHMOUD PLAYS THE PASHA--LOCAL STATISTICS--VISIT TO THE
KONAKI--HOSPITALITY VERSUS AL KORAN.
The Irish Turk contrived, after some talk, that our friends should
procure an entry into the palace of the pasha.
"Back stairs infloonce, me boys," said the Irish Turk, with a wink, "is
an illigant institooshn, and is jist as privlint here, sorrs, as it is
in St. James's or at the castle."
"How do you work it?"
"I have my own particular pals, which shall be nameless, at the pasha's
palace."
"Officers?"
The Irish Turk looked very demure and replied--
"Not exactly officers; officeresses, ye understand."
"You're a terrible Turk, Paddy," laughed young Jack.
"When shall we be able to get over the palace?" demanded Harry
Girdwood.
"Come to me in the course of to-morrow afternoon," said the Irish Turk.
"We will."
* * * *
This arranged, they strolled through the bazaar, trading and bartering
with the dealers, and making an odd collection of purchases, to take
home as curiosities.
But of all the curiosities, the most remarkable was perhaps a pair of
real Egyptian mummies, which they discovered in the possession of a
shrewd and greedy old Arab.
"We shall have quite an extensive museum," said Jack.
"Blessed if I care to see a brace o' stiff uns on board," growled Nat
Cringle.
"We shall not for the present take them on board," said Jack; "we shall
first take them to our rooms. We shall find some use for the mummies,
eh, Harry?"
"I believe you, my boy," said Harry. "We'll name the mummies Mole and
the orphan. Ha, ha!"
Well, that same afternoon, as agreed upon, young Jack and Harry
Girdwood presented themselves at the residence of the Irish Turk, Paddy
Mahmoud Ben Flannigan, as the boys had christened him.
They had got themselves up _à la Turc_.
Tinker and his attendant Bogey were also suitably attired.
They found the Irishman seated upon the floor with his legs under him.
He arose as the guests entered, and advanced to greet them politely.
"Make yourselves at home, gentlemen," he said, "and say what'll ye take
before we get along."
Jack tipped the wink to his companion.
"I'd like a little nip of something to cure the belly-ache," he
answered slily.
"Ye can have that same," responded their host.
He went to a cupboard, and produced a stumpy, but capacious bottle, and
three glasses.
"Whatever is that?" said Harry, in affected surprise.
"A drop of the crater," responded Paddy Mahmoud, pouring it out.
"Here's your health," said Harry Girdwood.
The two lads nodded at their host, and sipped.
The Irish Turk tossed off his whisky at a gulp.
"When shall you be ready to go up to the palace?" asked Jack.
"All in good time," returned the host. "In the first place, it is not
called the palace."
"What then?"
"The Konaki."
"Konaki!"
"That's it. Now I'll show you exactly how to conduct yourselves when
you are presented at court," he said.
Three servants entered, carrying three pipes, each of the same size,
and each having jewelled amber mouth-pieces.
The servants drew themselves up like automatons, each placing his right
hand on his heart.
The next moment they were inhaling their first draught of some
wonderful tobacco, the host keeping up the traditional Turkish custom
of puffing half a minute or so before the guests.
When they had puffed away in silence for some little time, the servants
returned.
One of them carried a crimson napkin, richly embroidered with gold,
thrown over his left shoulder.
And others carried a coffee tray, upon which were cups of elegant
filagree work.
Each of the guests were presented with a cup of coffee--not very nice
according to our notions, being thick, unstrained and unsweetened.
Yet the Turks are considered the only people who really understand the
art of making coffee.
This disposed of, the servants retired.
"Now," says the host, "that's just what ye'll have to do when you go up
to the Konaki, to be, so to speak, presented at court. When you go
visiting his excellency the pasha on any business, no matter how
pressing it may be, you mustn't speak of it until the pipes and the
coffee have been got through. You have only to observe this little
customary bit of etiquette, and all will go on merrily as a marriage
bell."
"Have you ever seen the pasha yourself?" asked Jack.
"Often."
"What's he like?"
"Every inch a gentleman."
This rather surprised them.
"Now let's come off, and you shall see over the Konaki."