red fez, sat twanging a little guitar, the body of which was half a cocoa-nut, covered with parchment.
This musician produced very dismal tones from its two strings, but the Arabs seemed content, and sat in silent, not to say dignified, enjoyment of it.
"Eat away now," whispered Rais to Flaggan, as they entered—"cross yoo legs, look solemn, an' hold yoos tongue. Me goes git shave."
Obedient to instructions—as British seamen always are—Ted took his place on one of the narrow benches, and, crossing his legs à la Turc, began with real zest to eat the rolls which his friend had provided for him, and to sip the cup, o thimbleful, of coffee which mine host silently, by order of the same friend, placed at his side.
Meanwhile, Rais Ali submitted himself to the hands of the host, who was also a barber, and had his head and face shaved without soap—though a little cold water was used.
During this operation a boy ran hastily into the café and made an announcement in Arabic, which had the surprising effect of startling the Arabs into undignified haste, and induced Rais Ali to overturn his coffee on the barber's naked feet, while he seized a towel and dried himself violently.
"What's to do, old feller?" demanded Flaggan, with a huge bite of bread almost stopping up his mouth.
