broken sentences, he gradually became a little
more calm and less unintelligible under the
soothing influence of Djilali, who appeared to
entertain for him a special sympathy. At
last he shouted, "'Tis abominable! shameful!
infamous! I invoke Allah and his justice!"

"My poor Bou Zebel," said the magistrate,
"what can have happened to put you into
such a furious passion?"

"I have been treated worse than they treat
the lowest shepherd. I have been insulted—
my respectability has been lowered."

"The deuce! The affair is serious. And
in what way, my poor Bou Zebel, have they
contrived to lower your respectability?"

"I am your servant—I sweep your stables—
therefore I ought to be treated with respect;
that is my only object in working for you."

"Assuredly nothing can be truer than
that,'' said the magistrate drily.

''I wait upon the makrezen, the courier, a
public functionary—whoever insults me
deserves to be punished."

"The fact is incontestable; and the more
so, because, even if you were not a public
functionary, no one would have the right to
insult you with impunity."

"Nobody has any right to interfere with
me but you. I will take nobody's orders but
yours. I consider only as my equals or my
inferiors all whose rank is lower than yours."

"Such pride is honourable, considering the
functions you fulfil; but just explain what it
is all about."

"It is, look you, that as for all the khalifs
and all the aghas in the world, I look upon
them as a mere nothing in comparison with
myself, because I—I am your servant—I
belong to your household."

"You are perhaps indulging in a little
exaggeration, my poor Bou Zebel; but what
is the meaning of all this talk?"

"It means that I have plenty of nose."

[To have plenty of nose signifies, amongst
the Arabs, to be possessed of proper pride.]

"I never doubted the fact."

"By your cherished head! I had rather
die than suffer the least diminution of the
respect which is due to me."

"Those are noble sentiments; but what
besides?"

"I can bear witness, in fact," Djilali chimed
in, "that Bou Zebel is a famous fellow, and
that he has a prodigious quantity of nose."

"Oblige me by holding your tongue,"
interrupted the magistrate; "for if you
begin to blow your trumpet in concert with
his, it is impossible to guess when there will
be an end of it."

"To insult me! a person in the service of
the courier! 'tis the upsetting of all received
ideas!"

"The offence is grave, I allow," said the
magistrate; "but only explain—"

"Me, who sweep your stables! me, a man
of your household! your child!—for I am
your child."

"Heaven defend me from repudiating the
honour of the paternity; but after all—"

"Besides, ask Djilali about my antecedents;
you must not fancy that I am a mere
nobody."

"By Sidi Abd-Allah!" exclaimed the
chaouch, "Bou Zebel is a very considerable
personage, and, such as you see him, he has
been a drummer in a battalion of regulars,
where I was myself—he is my brother in
arms."

"Ah, dear me!" said the magistrate,
trying hard to keep his temper; "will you
oblige me by not wasting my time in this
useless way. Bou Zebel, I give you warning,
that although you are an employé of the
makrezen, and moreover my child, I will
have you turned out of doors like the simplest
private individual if you do not choose to
explain yourself more clearly."

"Ah! Sidi, Sidi, you will listen to your
child. You will not repulse him without
doing him justice!"

"Ah! Sidi, Sidi," chaunted Djilali,
"consider the wrongs of poor Bou Zebel!"

"Will you say what you want?" asked
the magistrate, a trifle impatiently; for he
began to feel like a certain right honourable
speaker (who well deserves his salary), when
honourable members have lost themselves in
a wood of words in which they threaten to
wander all night long.

"I will, Sidi; I am coming to the point.
Sidi, I was busy in the exercise of my
functions, occupied in brooming the front of the
stables, when who should come but Hhamed
Ould Denéï on horseback, at full gallop, as if
he were going to break his neck. The lout,
instead of shouting out Gare! laid me flat on
my back, sticking on a muck-heap, neither
more nor less than if I had been a lump of
carrion, saving your presence. I picked
myself up, and said to him, with becoming
calmness, 'I think, Ould Denéï, you might
have had a little respect for an employé of
the makrezen, a servant of the agha.'
Instead of apologising, will you believe how he
answered me? 'Go to the fire, you dog, son
of a dog, servant of Christians.' I did not
deign to make any reply to this gross insult,
but came immediately to make my complaint
before you."

"Were any witnesses present when this
scene took place?" the magistrate inquired;
"because you know it is not my practice to
hear one side only."

"Yes, certainly; there were witnesses
present. All the kaïds' horsemen were there.
But, by your cherished head, I have spoken
nothing but the truth. Cut off my head—
cut me in two with a saw—if I have not
strictly spoken the truth."

"There is no intention of cutting you anyhow
or anywhere; but I should like a little
further information."

"Do you suppose I have told you a lie?
Me, your servant, your child? This is not