We were travel-stained and dusty as
millers, therefore our personal appearance had not impressed him
favourably; he was in a thread-bare long black cloth habit that
combined the cloak, dressing-gown, and frock-coat in a manner
inexplicable, and known only to Turks. This garment was trimmed in the
front edges with rather mangy-looking fox-skin: loose pegtop trousers of
greasy-looking cloth, dirty and threadbare, completed the costume of the
great curiosity of Cyprus, "a rude person."
I was not at the time aware that he understood Arabic, and happily I
addressed Amarn in that language, expressing my surprise that in this
country, where we had travelled so widely and found civility upon all
sides, we should be subjected to such rudeness. My servants, who were
more annoyed than myself, spoke rather loudly, and assured him that if
he was a Turk, their master was a pasha of his Sultan, and we would at
once quit his miserable neglected ground and mention his inhospitality
to the chief commissioner. By this time the rear baggage animals had
appeared, and the imposing array of luggage and people seemed to impress
him with the fact that we were neither gipsies nor vagabonds. I
explained to him that we should not have presumed to intrude within a
walled garden, but as the old walls had disappeared and the place was in
an open and ruinous condition, we had trespassed innocently.
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