Savage, go and tell your two friends that _Mr.
Here-come-a-zany_ is waiting for them in the drawing-room, and that the company would like to see some of their tricks." Savage bowed and departed, like a hero to execution, for by his pallor I could see that he was in a great fright.

When he had gone we set to work and cleared a space in the middle of the room, in front of which we arranged chairs for the company to sit on.
"No doubt they are Indian jugglers," said Lord Ragnall, "and will want a place to grow their mango-tree, as I remember seeing them do in Kashmir." As he spoke the door opened and Mr.Savage appeared through it, walking much faster than was his wont.

I noted also that he gripped the pockets of his swallow-tail coat firmly in his hand.
"Mr.Hare-root and Mr.Mare-root," he announced.
"Hare-root and Mare-root!" repeated Lord Ragnall.
"Harut and Marut, I expect," I said.

"I think I have read somewhere that they were great magicians, whose names these conjurers have taken." (Since then I have discovered that they are mentioned in the Koran as masters of the Black Art.) A moment later two men followed him through the doorway.

The first was a tall, Eastern-looking person with a grave countenance, a long, white beard, a hooked nose, and flashing, hawk-like eyes.