British, gin'rally are in limbo, it's a bad look-out for Ted Flaggan, seein' that I'm on the black list already."
Rais Ali appeared to ponder the case for a few seconds.
"Come an' have one bath," he said, with sudden animation; "after that we go brikfast togidder."
"Av we cud 'brikfust' fust, Ally Babby, it would be plisinter," returned the hungry seaman; "but, I say, I dursn't go into the bath, 'cause what would they think of a man wid dark-brown arms, legs, an' face, an' a pink body? Sure, they'd take me for a spy or a madman, an' hand me over to the p'leece!"
"Wash here, fust," said Rais, leading his friend to a small fountain in a retired angle of the court.
"Ebbery body here too bizzy 'joyin' theirselfs to look to yoo. An' des corner dark. Me stan' 'tween you an' dem."
"But who ever heard of a white Moor?" objected Ted.
"Oh, lots of 'em—half-castes, almost white as you," said Rais.
"But I ain't got a shaved skull with a top knot," returned the seaman, still objecting.
"Nebber mind; sailors of France, Denmark, an' odder places what hav consuls here, when waitin' for ship carry dem home comes here for fun—"
