"But his salary is enormous."
"Cut it down."
"But he is a very influential man; he has dependent upon him, directly or indirectly, about twenty thousand men, and these men, with their families, are a powerful faction. Then, too, the officials whose duties are similar—such as the First Turban-Twister, the Sandal-Strapper and his understrappers, and so on—would make common cause with him. You see?"
"Yes, I see," I said thoughtfully; "but in the same way you could justify any foolishness whatever. You would prevent all reforms."
"Oh, no!" said the Master of Ceremonies; "oh, no, Mudjahoy. Not reforms, but revolutions. You can very easily institute reforms; but you must go slowly."
"But," I objected, "you as the official in charge of ceremonies may well be prejudiced. Let us have the Grand Vizir summoned."
"That will take an hour, at least," answered the Master of Ceremonies, who really seemed a very nice fellow when you knew him well.
"Well, you slip out and get him on the sly," I answered with an unofficial wink.
"All right, Mudjahoy," he said, and out he went whistling a popular air.
While he was gone it occurred to me that I was now a married man, and that Dorema was certainly entitled to know of the step which I was contemplating. So, by the aid of four or five assistants, I caused her to be summoned.
She arrived a moment before the Grand Vizir made his appearance.
"I have called you, my dear Mrs. Mudjahoy—" I began, but she interrupted me.
