A little group of English tourists--a gentleman and two fair ladies--came that way, led on by a resplendent dragoman.

They stared at the wild figure at the prison gate.
'You like to give a trifle to the brisoners ?' inquired the guide.
'What are they in for ?' asked the gentleman.
'Murders, I guess, mostly,' shrugged the dragoman.
'Certainly not,' replied the gentleman, with indignation.
I ventured to approach and tell him that they were not murderers in our sense of the word, and that they depended for a bare subsistence upon public charity.

The only thanks I got were a cold stare from the man, a fastidious grimace from the two ladies, and an 'Oh, indeed!' so arrogant in tone that I retired discomfited.

My ill-success may be attributable to the fact that I was wearing a 'kufiyeh' and 'acal' and so appeared to them as what is called a 'native.' I myself have always, since that day, felt it my duty to give alms to murderers in Eastern lands.
FOOTNOTES: [7] _i.e._, Highwaymen..