The disturbance, however, continued.
Someone was trying to enter there against Rrisa's protests.
"I did not bring you up, sir," the Arab was saying, in broken English.
"You cannot come in! How did you get here ?" "I'm not in the habit of giving explanations to subordinates, or of bandying words with them," replied the man, in a clear, rather high-pitched but very determined voice.

The company, gazing at him, saw a slight, well-knit figure of middle height or a little less, in aviator's togs.

"I'm here to see your master, my good fellow, not you!" The man at the head of the table raised a finger to his lips, in signal of silence from them all, and beckoned the Arab.
"Let him come in!" he ordered, in Rrisa's vernacular.
"_A, M'alme_" submitted the desert man, standing aside and bowing as the stranger entered.

The Master added, in English: "If he comes as a friend and helper, uninvited though he be, we welcome him.

If as an enemy, traitor, or spy, we can deal justice to him in short order.