FullReads

“No.”

“But I have seen you speaking with him several times on the street, and my master has also noticed this and only recently said, ‘They must be valiant young people with whom this man grants a conversation.'”

“But tell us who he is!” cried the young merchant impatiently.

“Go away; you are trying to make a fool of me,” answered the steward. “No one enters this salon without special permission, and to-day the old gentleman sent word to the sheik that he would bring some young men with him into the salon, if it were not disagreeable to the sheik, and the sheik sent back the reply that his house was at his service.”

“Do not leave us longer in ignorance. As true as I live, I do not know who the man is. We got acquainted with him by chance, and fell to talking with him.”

“Well, you may consider yourselves fortunate, for you have conversed with a famous and learned man, and all present honor you and wonder at you accordingly. He is none other than Mustapha, the learned dervish.”

“Mustapha! the wise Mustapha, who educated the sheik’s son, who has written many learned books, and travelled to all parts of the world? Have we spoken with Mustapha? And spoken, too, as though he were one of us, without the least respect!”

While the young men were talking about the dervish, Mustapha, and the honor they felt had been done them by his condescension, the steward came to them again, and invited them to follow him, as the sheik wished to speak with them. The hearts of the young men beat excitedly. Never yet had they spoken with a man of such high rank. But they collected their wits, so as not to appear like fools, and followed the steward to the sheik. Ali Banu sat upon a rich cushion, and refreshed himself with sherbet. At his right sat the old man, his shabby clothes resting on splendid cushions, while his well-worn sandals were placed on a rich rug; but his well-shaped head, and his eye, expressive of dignity and wisdom, indicated that he was a man worthy to be seated near the sheik.

The sheik was very grave, and the old man appeared to be speaking words of consolation and of hope to him. The young men also feared that their summons to the sheik had been caused by a stratagem on the part of the old man, who very likely would now ruin them by a word to the sorrowing father.

“Welcome, young men,” said the sheik. “Welcome to the house of Ali Banu! My old friend here deserves my thanks for bringing you with him; still I am a little inclined to quarrel with him that he did not make me acquainted with you before this. Which of you is the young writer?”

“I, O Sire! and at your service!” replied the writer, crossing his arms on his breast and making a low obeisance.

“You are pleased with stories, and also love to read books with beautiful verses and wise sayings?”

The young man blushed, and answered: “O Sire! for my part, I know of no pleasanter way of passing the day. It cultivates the mind and whiles away the time. But every one to his taste; I do not quarrel with any one who does not—-“

“Very well, very well,” interrupted the sheik, with a laugh, as he beckoned the second young man forward. “And now who may you be?”

“Sire, my duties are those of an assistant to a physician, and I have cured some patients myself.”

“Just so,” replied the sheik. “And you are one who loves high-living. You would like to sit down to a good table with your friends. Isn’t that so? Have I not guessed right?”

The young man was much abashed; he felt that the old man had betrayed him also; but he plucked up courage to say: “Oh yes, Sire, I reckon it as one of the great enjoyments of life to be able to make merry now and then with one’s friends. My purse does not permit me to entertain my friends with much besides watermelons, and other cheap things; but still we contrive to be merry even with these–so that it stands to reason that if my purse was longer our enjoyment would be proportionately increased.”