Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 27

"Morning to you, old fellow," he said, cheerfully.

"Salaam, sahib," responded the necromancer, gravely.

"Hullo!" said Jefferson, opening his eyes, "why, this Arab talks Hindustani."

"Leave it to me," said d.i.c.k Harvey, in an undertone.

The Arab then said some few words to the company generally, which the company generally could make rather less of than if they had been addressed in Chinese.

"He's talking no known language under the sun," said Harkaway. "It's my opinion he has got the cheek to talk regular right-down gibberish to us."

It was true.

The words, or sounds, let us say, which the necromancer was uttering, only sounded but too much like "hokey-pokey kickeraboo abracadabra,"

and the rest of the mysterious sounds with which the conjurer at juvenile parties seeks to invest his performance with additional wonder, for the benefit of his youthful audience.

d.i.c.k was in a rage.

"Confound his impudence," he exclaimed; "I'll give him one."

So he let out in this wise--

"Chi ki hi-u-thundrinold umbuggo--canardly keep my thievinirons off your wool--I should like to land you just one on the smeller and tap your claret."

At which, to the surprise of the magician, the visitors burst out laughing.

The Arab necromancer now asked them, in very good Greek, the object of their visit.

"We shall not understand much if we are addressed in Greek," said Harkaway; "try him in Italian."

And then they found that the conjurer spoke Italian as well, or better, than any of the party.

"Can you tell me," said Jack Harkaway, by way of beginning business, "if I shall succeed in the present object of my desires or not?"

The magician bowed his head gravely.

Then he opened a large volume covered with mystic characters.

For a minute or two he appeared to be lost in deep study, and then he gave his reply.

"Your desires tend to the downfall of some lawless men, I find," he said, watching them keenly, as if he expected to see them jump up in surprise at his words.

"They do."

"And you will not succeed."

"Does your art tell you where I shall fail?" asked Jack.

"No; I only see disappointment and trouble for you and yours."

"Dear, dear, how very shocking," exclaimed Harkaway, winking at Harvey.

"Dreadful!" added d.i.c.k, with a terrified look, and putting his tongue out at the magician.

"What else does your art tell you?" demanded Jefferson, who was anxious to know how far the necromancer would venture to try and humbug them.

"I see here," said the conjurer, drawing his finger along a line of something on an open "book of fate," that looked like Arabic, "I see here that your lives are menaced, one and all, through the keeping of a wretched man under restraint."

The visitors looked at each other and exchanged a smile.

"Your art is at fault," said Jefferson; "we have no one under restraint."

"You are in some way connected with it."

"Wrong again."

The wizard looked uncomfortable at this.

"Strange," he said, "and yet I read it here as clearly as you might yourself if it were written in a book."

"You are mistaken," said Jefferson; "we are in no way concerned in any thing of the kind."

The wizard pored over the mystic tome again.

"I can say no more then," he said, "for here you are clearly indicated.

You especially are mentioned as being the immediate cause of his downfall."

"How am I indicated?" demanded Jefferson.

"By the letter J."

"Which you take for?"

"Your initial."

"Humph! not far out. What an audacious humbug the fellow is," said Jefferson to Jack.

Now, during the foregoing scene, young Jack and Harry Girdwood had joined the party, and d.i.c.k Harvey was observed to be in close conversation with them.

At this point Harvey turned from the two lads towards Jefferson.

"The astrologer is right," he said, gravely.

"What the devil do you mean?" exclaimed Jefferson.

"You are right, sir," added d.i.c.k to the magician himself.

The latter bowed.