7/13 'A poor servant has lost a whip worth fifty Turkish pounds, his master's property. It was stolen from him by a miscreant--a wicked cabman. His lord will kill him if he fails to find it.' Seized with interest, I shouldered my way forward. There was Rashid against the wall of a large mosque, beating himself against that wall with a most fearful outcry. A group of high-fezzed soldiers, the policemen of the city, hung round him in compassion, questioning. |