Some of them still wore Turkish uniforms.

Two or three were redheaded and blue-eyed, and almost certainly descended from Scotch crusaders.

(The whole wide world bears witness that when the Scots went soldiering they were efficient in more ways than one.) The rest of the crowd were mainly peasantry with basket-loads of stuff for market; but there was a liberal sprinkling among them of all the odds and ends of the Levant, with a Jew here and there, the inevitable Russian priest, and a dozen odd lots, of as many nationalities, whom it would have been difficult to classify.
And there was Police Constable Bedreddin Shah.

You could not have missed noticing him, although I did not learn his name until afterwards.

He came swaggering down the Jaffa Road with all the bullying arrogance of the newly enlisted Arab policeman.