Here is your paper back." Tugendheim took the paper.

(You remember, sahib, he had signed a receipt in conjunction with the Turkish mate and captain of that ship in which we escaped from Stamboul.) Well, he took the paper back, and burned it in the little fire by which I was sitting facing Ranjoor Singh.
"Let me go with you!" he urged.

"It will be rope or bullet for me if ever I get back to Germany!" "Nevertheless," said Ranjoor Singh, "I promised to deliver you to Wassmuss when we made you prisoner in the first place.

I must keep my word to you!" "I release you from your word to me!" said Tugendheim.
"And I promised you to the Kurdish chief." "The Kurdish chief ?" said Tugendheim.

"What of him?
What of it?
Why, why, why--he is a savage--scarcely human--not to be weighed in the scales against a civilized man! What does such a promise as that amount to ?" And he stood tugging at his mustaches as if he would tear them out.
"I have some gold left," said Ranjoor Singh, when he was sure Tugendheim had no more to say, "and I had seriously thought of buying you for gold from these Kurds.