What is there to do?
What is my gain--what thine ?" "Thy gain?
The payment of thy debt to me." Mizraim's face lengthened.
His was a loathsome sort of gratitude.

He was willing to pay in kind; but what Oriental ever paid a debt without a gift in return, even as a bartering Irishman demands his lucky penny.
"So be it, excellency, and my life is thine to spill upon the ground, a scarlet cloth for thy feet.

And backsheesh ?" Nahoum smiled grimly.

"For backsheesh, thy turban full of gold." Mizraim's eyes glittered-the dull black shine of a mongrel terrier's.

He caught the sleeve of Nahoum's coat and kissed it, then kissed his hand.
Thus was their bargain made over the dead body; and Mizraim had an almost superstitious reverence for the fulfilment of a bond, the one virtue rarely found in the Oriental.