BOOK 2.
The Deliverer Comes from the Sea

WE DID not sail direct to Algiers, for Abu el-Kasim explained that the Spaniards who held the island fort at the mouth of the harbor were in the habit of stopping and searching any vessels that sought to enter. For this reason we landed some distance along the coast, and we were not the only people to bring wares by devious routes into the city. In the sheltered bay where we anchored we found a great number of small craft whose owners were voluble in cursing Selim ben-Hafs and the Spaniards for obstructing honest trade. These vessels were discharging cargoes of captured Christians, and plunder rolled up in mats; instead of customs seals, patches of fresh blood were to be seen, so that my heart sank as I beheld the work.

We spent the night in the hut of a swarthy peasant, who was a friend of Abu’s and a man of few words. Next day Abu hired a donkey, loaded it with two great baskets and bade Giulia mount upon its back. After much argument he persuaded some peasants who were also bound for the city to conceal among their baggage a great many of the bundles and jars that he had unloaded from his ship. And truly I have never seen a more woeful creature than Abu el-Kasim as he wrung his hands, rent his dirty clothes, and besought both black and white Berbers to pity a poor wretch and save his goods from the rapacity of Selim ben-Hafs.

This was of course the purest humbug, for as we approached Algiers he told me, “Ours is a dangerous trade, Michael my son, and we cannot long ply it without attracting attention. Too much secrecy would defeat itself, and it’s better to expose oneself to scorn and mockery than to lose one’s head. And so I make as much commotion as possible, and I’m already notorious in Algiers, so that children run after me, pointing. Countless times I’ve been punished for my shifts and expedients and my clumsy attempts to fool Selim ben-Hafs’s customs officials. This time I shall no doubt get caught again, and some of my goods will be confiscated amid general gaiety. But all this is perfectly in order. My best wares will arrive safely; I know the rules of the game. By the way, it would do no harm for your brawny brother to jeer at me now and again. For who takes notice of a man who’s mocked by his own slaves?”

I noticed that the country round Algiers was beautiful, rich with gardens and fruit trees, while numerous windmills on the hillsides bore witness to the wealth of the city. We forded a river on whose banks I saw a crowd of women, both black-skinned and brown and wearing only brightly colored cloths wrapped about their loins, who were washing clothes.

The city lay on a slope by the blue, hazy sea, and gleamed dazzling white in the sunshine. It was surrounded by a sturdy wall and a ditch, and at its highest point there rose from an angle in the wall a round keep, which dominated town and harbor. At the eastern gate we joined a great throng; the guards were sorting sheep from goats with blows of their sticks, letting the peasants through and detaining all strangers to examine their baggage. Abu el-Kasim urged us to follow close at his heels, then, drawing the corner of his cloak over his face and murmuring numerous blessings and quotations from the Koran, he attempted to slink past the guards. But they seized him and uncovered his face, and I have never seen a more crestfallen figure than Abu el-Kasim at that moment. He cursed his birth and whined, “Why do you so relentlessly persecute me—me, the poorest of the poor? You’ll soon cause me to lose faith in the mercy of Allah the Almighty.”

The guards laughed and said, “We know you, Abu el-Kasim, and you can’t deceive us. Tell us what you have to declare, or you’ll lose all.”

Abu el-Kasim pointed to Andy and me and Giulia on her donkey, and wept bitterly, saying, “Do you not see, you hard-hearted men, that I bring but four eggs and a nest to hatch them in ?”

But the men ignored his jest and took us to the guardroom. Abu el-Kasim buffeted us on before him, and I turned, smacked his face, and said, “Is this how you treat valuable slaves, fellow?”

Abu el-Kasim raised his hand as if to chastise me but seeing the look on my face he quailed, and mourned, “See how even my slave behaves to me! What can I think but that Allah has cast me out, when he burdens me with such a creature as this?”

The guards handed him over to their chief, to whom Abu el-Kasim mentioned the wares for which he was willing to pay, and these were noted down by the clerk. He then declared, “As truly as I’m a blameless man who never in his life tried to cheat anyone, I bring nothing else on which I should pay duty. For guarantee, and in token of my good will, I make you a present of these three gold pieces, which are my last.”

The men were content with this, and laughingly accepted the money, from which I concluded that the city was less well ordered than it might have been, since its officials allowed themselves to be bribed so openly. But as Abu el-Kasim was on his way out, a piece of costly ambergris the size of his fist slipped from under his arm where it had grown warm, and now filled the whole room with its fragrance.

Abu el-Kasim’s face turned ashen gray, and I could not think how he was able thus to control his features, unless it was that he so lived his part that he had come to believe in it himself. He stammered, “Hassan ben-Ismail, I had indeed forgotten that little piece of ambergris. Also a camel follows, blind of one eye, bearing a basket of grain in which are hidden five jars of good wine. Let the camel through and come and see me tomorrow evening, when we can discuss the matter rationally in all its aspects. In the meantime as a token of my good will you may keep that piece of ambergris, and Allah will reward you on the Last Day.”

The official laughed scornfully but agreed, and even gave back the ambergris, saying that its perfume made the place unbearable. As soon as Abu el-Kasim had come out into the narrow street he climbed nimbly onto Andy’s shoulders and shrieked, “Make way for Abu el-Kasim, the almsgiver, the friend of the poor, now returned from a journey which Allah has blessed!”

Thus was Andy compelled to carry his vociferous burden, and we attracted much attention as we trudged through the streets toward Abu’s hovel, which was near the harbor. From behind latticed windows curious glances followed us, and soon we had a flock of joyously screeching urchins at our heels. Abu el-Kasim threw a copper coin among them from time to time, calling God and all the faithful to witness his liberality.

Abu el-Kasim’s dwelling was a sagging mud hut, and his little shop, bolted and barred, was full of stinking jars. In the yard a feebleminded wretch of a slave kept watch. He had been deaf and dumb from birth, and it was with grunts and flickering fingers that he began to relate what had passed during his master’s absence, repeatedly kissing the hem of Abu’s grimy cloak. I was at a loss to understand how a man like Abu el-Kasim had been able to inspire such devotion in this slave, who had not even a name, a name being useless to one who cannot hear it called. But although he was clumsy and constantly broke things, and cooked miserable meals, Abu el-Kasim treated him kindly. I was surprised at his forbearance, but he said, “He suits me admirably, for he hears nothing of what is said in this house, and can’t mention what he has seen. Moreover he gives me daily occasion to practice patience and self-control, and these qualities are essential in my dangerous vocation.”

When we had entered the miserable den and surveyed its two rooms with their beaten-earth floors and tattered paillasses, Giulia drew aside her veil and mourned, “Have I endured the pangs of seasickness and the burning glare of the sun, only to land in such a place as this—I who have eaten good kukurrush and won the favor of Sinan the Jew? How could he give me to so contemptible a man?”

She could not conceal her disappointment, but vented it in loud lamentation. Abu el-Kasim laid his hand comfortingly upon her shoulder, and the deaf-mute, alarmed at her weeping, fell on his knees before her and pressed his forehead to the ground. But Giulia kicked him with her red slipper, shook off Abu el-Kasim’s hand and screamed, “Sell me in the market to whomsoever you please, but don’t come near me, or I will plunge a dagger into your throat.”

Abu el-Kasim wrung his hands, but his eyes gleamed as he said, “Alas, queen of my heart, how can you treat me so harshly? I fear I made a bad bargain in buying you from Sinan the Jew for the sake of your radiant beauty and the glorious diversity of your eyes. Perhaps the wretched Jew deceived me when he praised your amenable nature and swore that you could foretell the future by tracing characters in the sand.”

Giulia was so astounded that she forgot her wailing and said, “Certainly he taught me to draw lines in the sand and to speak of what I see there; but of fortunetelling and prediction he said not a word!”

Abu el-Kasim answered, “Yes, and for me too you shall draw in the sand and speak of what you see, for you are fairer than the moon and your speech in sweeter than honey, and I see I must disclose to you all my secrets. Follow me, but never breathe a word of what I shall show you.”

From one of his hiding places he took out a key wrapped in a rag and led us to his dark storeroom. Here, having rolled aside barrels and jars, he revealed a narrow door, which he unlocked, and then led us through into a room hung and carpeted with costly rugs and containing a quantity of brass and copper vessels of beautiful workmanship. Next, drawing aside a mat that hung on the wall, he showed us a wrought-iron gate and behind this an alcove with a wide divan in it, and a Koran on its stand. He opened the gate with a special key and kindled a small cone of myrrh, which soon spread its blue smoke through the room. Then he raised the lid of an iron chest and took out lengths of velvet and brocade, silver vessels and a number of heavy gold goblets. I could only suppose that he was seeking to gratify Giulia’s vanity by this display.

And Giulia became indeed somewhat reconciled, and admitted that in time she might feel at home in the place, hardened as she now was by so many privations.

“But you must give me the key of the grille,” she said, “so that I can retire when I please. I permit no one to disturb me while I’m engaged in meditation, or in tending my beauty, or in sleep, and if you fancy you’re ever going to share that bed with me, Abu el-Kasim, you’re greatly mistaken.”

But Abu el-Kasim turned a deaf ear and, spitting on a golden goblet which had lost its luster, began carefully polishing it with a corner of his cloak. At a sign from him the deaf-mute brought drinking water, and into this he dropped aromatic herbs which gave it a refreshing and thirst-quenching taste. When we had drunk he invited us to sit down on the cushions, while he fetched a large copper dish and filled it with fine sand.

“Have compassion on your servant, cruel Delilah,” he said. “Since the day Sinan the Jew told me of your strange gift I’ve been impatient for this moment. Gaze with your wonderful eyes at the sand, stir it with your finger and tell me what you see.”

Incense caressed my nostrils, the drink glowed in my belly, and sitting there cross legged on the low cushion I felt strangely drowsy. Even my little dog had laid its nose between its paws and sighed contentedly in that twilit room. Giulia, too, no doubt felt the prevailing languor, for without argument she bent forward and drew lines abstractedly in the sand. She said, “I see roads, cities, and the boundless sea. I see also three men. One of these is thin and ugly as a monkey. The second is sturdy as a tower, but his head’s no bigger than a pigeon’s egg. The third looks like a goat with little horns—very little horns, but sharp.”

I thought Giulia was saying all this to make fun of us, but gradually her voice altered, she stared seemingly bewitched into the sand, and her finger moved as if she were unaware of the figures she was tracing. Abu el-Kasim swung the bowl of myrrh and said in a low voice, “Delilah, Delilah—Christian Giulia, tell me what you see in the sand!”

Giulia’s smooth brow was now furrowed. She groaned, and a harsh, alien voice spoke through her mouth. “The sand is red as if with blood—I see a seething cauldron, and in it people—warriors, ships, banners. I see a turban fall from a puffy head—I see a harbor—many ships entering the harbor in a roar of cannon.”

“The Deliverer comes from the sea,” said Abu el-Kasim in a low voice. “The Deliverer comes from the sea before the figs have ripened. That is important, Delilah. You see the usurper on his throne, the blasphemer who neglects the commandments of Allah. But you see also the turban falling from his head, and you see the Deliverer coming from the sea before the figs are ripe.”

Giulia stirred the sand intently, and suddenly the alien voice broke out in derision, “Abu el-Kasim in your donkey’s hide! Why do your bleeding feet tread a thousand paths when only one is needful ? You’re but a fish in God’s net, and the more stubbornly you thrust against it, the more hopelessly are you entangled in its meshes. Your life is but a reflection in a pool whose calm surface is quickly shattered by the hand of a child at play. Why are you ever your own dupe, when you gain no peace by it, however feverishly you flee from yourself and change your form?”

Abu el-Kasim was thunderstruck, and cried out, “In the name of Allah the Compassionate! A wicked spirit speaks through this woman, and her eyes must indeed be evil.”

He wrenched the copper dish from Giulia’s grasp, though she clung to it convulsively with both hands. Her eyes shone like jewels in her white face and she did not wake from her trance until Abu el-Kasim shook her and bent her head repeatedly from side to side. Then her glance came alive again and rising abruptly she boxed his ears, saying, “Don’t touch me, you filthy ape! Don’t dare to take advantage of me when I dream like this. It often happens. It used to happen long ago when I looked into a pool or a well. And I like it, for it seems to free me from the curse of my eyes. But that’s no excuse for shameless assault. Let me rest, for I’m very tired. Go away, all of you, and leave me in peace.”

She drove us from the room.

Abu el-Kasim gave us blankets and bade us find sleeping places for the night. Then he went out. The deaf-mute brought clean straw and did his poor best for us. Toward evening he began cooking broth, and cut up a few small pieces of mutton for grilling. Andy, seeing this, shook his head sadly and remarked, “The poor fellow can never have had a square meal in his life. To look at him you’d think he was going to feed a couple of hens and a blind puppy. That may do for skinny old Abu, but not for me.”

He pushed the slave gently aside, built up a good fire, hung the cauldron over it, and flung in all the bits of meat and fat he could find. The unhappy deaf-mute, seeing Andy pile on the fire all the twigs and dried dung that had been so slowly and painfully collected, was appalled; but when Andy began cutting up half a sheep to fill the pot the man grasped his wrist, and his eyes swam in tears.

Just then I heard my dog yelping outside in the yard, and I found him running madly round and round, pursued by two black hens. Rael took refuge between my feet and I saw that his muzzle was bleeding. Greatly incensed—for Rael was a peaceable creature, and never chased fowls—I seized a stake and wrathfully attacked the aggressors. The dog helped me as well as he could, and Andy appeared in the doorway, to encourage us with joyous shouts until at last I was able to catch the birds and wring their necks.

The commotion had brought a crowd of neighbors to the gate, but Andy quickly snatched up the fowls and threw them to the slave for him to pluck. The poor wretch, being now out of his wits, meekly obeyed and his tears fell among the feathers. I pitied him, but felt that he might as well accustom himself to the new circumstances without delay.

When the sun was setting and the melancholy cry of the muezzin reached us from the minaret of the mosque, Abu el-Kasim dipped his fingers into a bowl of water and splashed a few drops over his feet, wrists, and face. He then unrolled a mat and recited the prayers, while I knelt too and pressed my forehead to the ground in time with him. When our prayer was ended Abu el-Kasim sniffed the air and said, “Let us bless the food in the name of Allah, and eat!”

We sat down in a ring on the floor. Here Giulia joined us, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching her slender limbs. But when Andy carried in the great cooking pot, Abu el-Kasim grimaced as if he had bitten into a sour fruit, and said, “I don’t intend to feed all the poor of the quarter, nor are we a platoon of janissaries. Who’s to blame for this terrible mistake? Let it be the last. Were it not that I wish our first evening to be harmonious I could fly into a passion.”

Dipping his hand into the pot he drew forth the leg of a fowl, which he gazed at in wonder, shifting it from hand to hand and blowing on his fingers.

“Allah is indeed great,” he said. “Here is a miracle. A piece of mutton seems to have turned into a drumstick.”

The deaf-mute began waving his arms, opening his mouth and pointing at Andy, me, and the dog, which sat meekly awaiting its scraps. And when at last Abu el-Kasim grasped what had happened he quite lost his appetite, and wept.

“The curse of Allah upon you for killing both my hens, Mirmah and Fatima. Alas, my hens, my little hens, that laid me such round, brown eggs!”

Tears poured down his cheeks and his sparse beard, and Andy looked uncomfortable. But I flared up, “Don’t swear at us, Abu el- Kasim, but at your wicked hens that tore my dog’s nose. It was I who wrung their necks, and if you don’t want to eat, you can fast.”

Abu el-Kasim continued to sigh and wipe the tears from his beard, but when he saw how the food was disappearing he forgot his sorrow and helped himself. Afterward he patted his stomach contentedly, but warned us that at this rate we should eat him out of house and home.

Andy retorted, “Of what use are starving servants ? I’m content with plain food so long as there’s plenty of it. Give us half a sheep and a bag of meal daily, and neither you nor I need complain.”

Abu el-Kasim’s only response was to tear his beard, and shortly afterward we retired to rest.

Next day, after the morning prayer, Abu el-Kasim took us out and showed us objects of interest in the town. Many close-packed buildings stood within its walls, and in the narrow alleys it was difficult to push past those whom we met. Here were representatives of every Christian and Moslem nation, as well as Jews and Greeks. I saw also desert horsemen, who kept their faces covered.

There were many fine houses surrounded by walls, and public bathhouses open to all, irrespective of faith, color, or means. The rich paid most for their baths, while the poorest might bathe for nothing, in the name of the Compassionate. At the highest point of the town stood the kasbah of Selim ben-Hafs, with its countless buildings, and on either side of its main entrance iron hooks were to be seen, on which were impaled human heads and limbs. The finest building of all, however, was the great mosque by the harbor. The Spanish island fortress commanded the harbor mouth, and Spaniards armed with swords and harquebuses rowed freely to and fro, or stalked haughtily among the populace, whom they compelled to make way for them. This offended many a devout Moslem, for by the law of the Koran no believer ought to step aside for an unbeliever, but should crowd him and jostle him out into the street.

On our way about the city, Abu el-Kasim gathered together with many blessings the jars which, hidden in peasants’ grain baskets, had arrived at the houses of his merchant friends, and we carried them back to his house. The city was divided in a very sensible and practical manner into different quarters, in which each kind of merchandise and craft had its own street. Thus the coppersmiths kept to one alley, while tailors, tanners, dyers, and all other artisans each had theirs. Our own house was in the street of the spice merchants and dealers in drugs. It was one of the more respectable thoroughfares, since wealthy merchants as well as poor ones lived there, as could be seen by the crowd of beggars and cripples who squatted all day at rich men’s doors in the hope of alms.

At noon Abu el-Kasim took us to the mosque, in whose forecourt was a marble basin supplied with fresh running water. We performed the prescribed ablutions and entered the mosque, carrying our slippers in our hands. There were costly carpets on the floor, many lamps hung from the roof by copper and silver chains, and columns of different colors supported the great dome. We murmured our purpose in coming and imitated the actions of the reader, kneeling when he knelt and bowing down as he did. After the prayers Abu el-Kasim took us to the madrasseh, or mosque school, where youths under the direction of gray-bearded teachers were studying the Koran, the duty of man, the traditions, and the law. Abu el-Kasim had given us clean clothes, and he now presented us to an elderly man with a white beard, saying, “Venerable Ibrahim ben Adam el-Mausili! In the name of the Compassionate I bring you two men who have found the faith and desire to follow the true path.”

From that day forward, after the evening prayer, we attended the school for converts, to learn Arabic and the seven pillars, roots, and branches of Islam. Not even Fridays were excepted; for although Moslems leave their labor or their business to attend the noon service on that day, yet they count no day as a day of rest. In their opinion the Christian and Jewish manner of honoring the Sabbath is blasphemous, because it is based on the idea that God, after creating heaven and earth, rested upon the seventh day. Moslems acknowledge that God created heaven and earth, but being omnipotent He must have done it without effort; the very notion that He could be in need of rest is blasphemy to them.

When the old teacher Ibrahim ben-Adam observed my genuine desire for knowledge he conceived a liking for me and expounded the Koran to the best of his ability, and often I stayed on after the others had left until late in the evening. He was very devout and never wearied of reading the sacred writings. It was from him I learned that Islam has room in it for many paths whose followers dispute among themselves. But these questions did not disturb my peace of mind, for I studied the Koran with intellectual detachment, and solely from a desire for knowledge. I soon perceived that Christians had little to be proud of in their supposedly superior religion, for dogmatic disputes, sanctimoniousness, hypocrisy, and the nonobservance of fasts were features common to both persuasions.

During the day I helped Abu el-Kasim to mix drugs and grind kohl to a fine powder for eye black. I also prepared a dye of indigo and henna, which gives a blue-black tinge to women’s hair. By kneading indigo leaves to a stiff dough we obtained a substance that women used to color their eyebrows dark blue; and Abu el-Kasim told me that the fine ladies of Baghdad often shaved off the eyebrows that Allah had given them, to replace them by penciled blue lines.

But the most important of Abu el-Kasim’s wares were the leaves of henna that he obtained from Morocco, where they were gathered three times a year. Women moistened these and kneaded them to a greenish paste which they rubbed into their faces to freshen and rejuvenate their complexions; elderly women could not live without it. Henna was also used in the preparation of a dye for nails, hands, and feet. Abu el-Kasim had his own methods of making this, which enabled him to sell it at prices that varied according to the means of the customer.

He taught me to knead a little lemon juice and alum into the henna paste, and so produce an orange-colored mixture for coloring the nails. He would mix some of it with rose water or essence of violets, put it into different pots under different names and price it according to the lure of those names. In this way he could charge many times the price of the original commodity. Vain men dyed their beards with henna, and fair-haired women could use it to turn their hair fiery red in the Venetian manner.

Other preparations he made entirely himself, including the burning “paradise ointment,” which he declared could restore virginity to a prostitute, though she had visited all the ports of Africa and reached the age of forty. When I rebuked Abu for his heartlessness in robbing the poor by selling them worthless goods he looked at me with his monkey eyes and answered gravely, “Michael el-Hakim, you mustn’t blame me, for in selling these things I sell much more than their ingredients. I sell dreams, and the poor have greater need of dreams than the rich and fortunate. To aging women I sell youth and self- confidence. Besides, you’ll have noticed that I sometimes give away henna and rose water for some poor girl’s wedding, and so acquire merit. Don’t reproach me for selling dreams to others, though I’ve lost my own.”

I give no opinion as to the rights or wrongs of this, and as to whether it is better to live unhappy in the truth or happy in a lie. However it may be, I helped Abu el-Kasim in every way I could and was flattered when he began to call me el-Hakim, the physician. It came about when he was seeking an Arabic name for me. Rearranging the letters of “Michael” or “Mikhael,” he produced to his own surprise the words “el-Hakim.”

“There’s an omen indeed!” he cried. “As Michael the angel you did Sinan a service by inducing him to seek guidance in the holy book;

now as el-Hakim the physician you shall serve me. May the conjunction be a fortunate one for both of us.”

I first saw Sultan Selim ben-Hafs one Friday as he came riding down the steep street from the kasbah to the noon service in the mosque. He was attended by a flock of richly dressed slaves, and by a company of bowmen who, with arrows ready fitted to the bowstrings, closely scrutinized the lattice windows and flat roofs of the houses. In the forecourt of the mosque Selim made a disdainful gesture, and a sackful of square silver coins was flung to the poor. Within, having carelessly rattled off the prayers, he sat cross legged on his throne and dozed while passages from the Koran were read aloud. Thus I had a fair opportunity of watching him and studying his face, and I cannot say that I was attracted, for it was ravaged by vice and his drooling mouth hung open. He was middle aged; his face and his dark beard gleamed with rare ointments, and his bloodshot eyes framed in heavy, puffy lids were as lifeless as his mouth. Abu el-Kasim told me he ate opium. Afterward, on his return to the palace, Selim paused at the entrance to witness two executions and the flogging of some young boys who were bound to posts on either side of the gate. He let the whipping continue until blood was pouring down their backs, while he sat slumped in his saddle with a hanging lip, dully looking on. If the Hafsids had ruled Algiers for three hundred years, I thought, it was at least one hundred years too long.

I soon came to love Algiers—the street where I lived, and the people who talked to me. This foreign city, with the strange smells and colors, the charcoal braziers, the fruit trees, and the many ships in the harbor, was like a city from some story book. Each day I ate mutton and rich broth; often Abu el-Kasim with a sigh would loosen his purse strings and give me a few square silver coins, and I would go to the market to buy plump ptarmigan, which Giulia afterward dressed with lavish seasoning.

For Giulia had gradually become reconciled to her lot. Abu el-Kasim pleased her by taking her to the bazaar and buying her beautifully wrought bracelets and anklets of silver. To my annoyance she dyed her fair hair red. Her nails, the palms of her hands, and her feet up to the anklebones were always orange-red, and she also painted her eyelids and eyebrows after the fashion of Algerian women. To her credit be it said that she soon wearied of our housekeeping and took it into her own hands, inducing Abu el-Kasim to repair the house and even demanding a covered pool in the courtyard, so that he was forced to pay a large sum for the right to pipe water from the city water tower. Giulia in short claimed the same amenities as our neighbors, until Abu el-Kasim tore his beard and wrung his hands, and in moments of desperation ran out into the street to call everyone to witness how the abominable soothsayer was plunging him into ruin.

The neighbors stroked their beards and gloated. Some said, “Abu el-Kasim has grown rich,” and others said, “What a joyful day it will be when next Selim ben-Hafs’s taxgatherer visits our street!” Only the most compassionate remarked, “Abu el-Kasim has clearly gone out of his mind. It would be a kindness to him and pleasing to Allah to carry him to the madhouse and have the evil spirit whipped from his body.”

I was not at all surprised at these remarks, for now and then Andy in a howling fury would chase the agile Abu round the court, until he fled over the wall and hid in the cess pit. For Abu el-Kasim purposely teased and goaded Andy every time he was beaten on the wrestling ground behind the mosque. On such days Andy would be in a surly humor, and if on top of this Abu waved a wine flask in front of his nose, inviting him to take a pull at it and gain a little vigor, it was enough, and I was often afraid that Andy would knock Abu to pieces. But when enough interested onlookers had gathered in the yard and Andy’s fury had somewhat abated, Abu el-Kasim would creep out of the drain, smelling very evilly, and approach Andy with an ingratiating air, to feel his calf muscles and assure the neighbors that Andy would yet bring him in a fortune by wrestling.

When I expostulated with Abu for teasing Andy he looked at me in wonder, and said, “Why deny my neighbors a little innocent fun? Besides, it’s good for your brother, for otherwise he’d only sit and sulk after a defeat, until he got cramps in the stomach. As it is, he can work off his fury on me and so regain his good fighting humor.”

This was true, for after such outbreaks Andy quickly cooled, and laughed at Abu for a silly old fool.

Abu el-Kasim then persuaded him to lie full length on a bench, and massaged his arms and legs, oiled his massive body and rubbed healing salves into his bruises. Now that Andy had adopted the Moslem faith he had to have a new name, and Abu el-Kasim called him Antar, after the great hero of the Arabian tales. In the bazaar he so loudly praised his strength and skill as to arouse curiosity and many people gathered behind the mosque to watch him wrestle. At least once a week Abu el-Kasim mounted on Andy’s shoulders and rode thus to the market place, issuing loud challenges to all and sundry to try a fall with the invincible Antar. There Andy stood up naked save for a pair of leather breeches reaching to the knee, while Abu rubbed him with oil and loudly eulogized his muscles. Among the loiterers on the shady side of the market place, and under the colonnade of the mosque, there were always some disengaged gureshes, each of whom had a patron or master who fed him and wagered money on him. Such wagers were not held to be gambling, which is forbidden by the Koran, since the result was determined not by chance but by the strength and skill of the wrestlers.

These patrons were the idle sons of rich merchants and shipowners, whose forebears had built up their fortunes by piracy. But since Selim ben-Hafs, through fear of the great Sultan, had allied himself with the Spaniards, piracy had ceased, and so these young men were without an occupation. They passed their days at the baths and their nights in secret wine drinking in company with dancing girls. They sought to stimulate their jaded senses by patronizing this sport. Many of the wrestlers were rough fellows who had chosen this way of life from laziness. At times, when they found themselves outmatched, they were apt to sink their teeth in an opponent’s ear and tear it off. Therefore Andy had to be on his guard, and despite his lamentations and references to Samson’s disastrous fate, Abu shaved his head so that no adversary could grasp him by the hair.

When first I went with Andy and Abu el-Kasim to the market place I was horrified at the sight of these fearful wrestlers, half naked and gleaming with sweat, as they made themselves supple by trying holds on one another, and forcing one another to the ground. They were big, fat men with bulging muscles, and I fancy any one of them could have cracked my ribs with a poke of his forefinger.

But Abu el-Kasim made a great commotion, chattering like a monkey and screaming, “Is there anyone here who dares wrestle with the invincible Antar? His knees are as the pillars in the mosque and his trunk is a very tower. He was bred among idolaters in a land far to the north, and is hardened by the snow and ice that covers the country all the year round—ice, which you idlers know only as fragments in your sherbet.”

After continuing thus for some time he climbed down from Andy’s shoulders, spread a piece of cloth upon the ground and threw a square silver coin upon it as a reward to the winner, crying aloud to Allah to witness his liberality. This provoked a roar of laughter which brought others running to the scene, while the wealthy patrons held their sides and cried, “You seem to have little faith in your Antar—and no wonder. He looks as lumbering as an ox.”

But the curious began throwing coins onto the cloth until a little heap of silver lay there, and even a small gold coin or two. The wrestlers looked critically from the pile of money to Andy and back again, gathered in a ring with their hands on one another’s shoulders and chattered, until one of them undertook a “good” bout with Andy. In “good” wrestling, the opponents were not to inflict willful and lasting injury on one another, whereas in “hard” wrestling everything was allowed. In “hard” bouts men were apt to lose an eye or an ear, and professional wrestlers did not willingly engage in them.

Andy and his adversary now tackled one another, and Andy, putting into practice the holds that Mussuf the Negro had taught him, flung his man over his shoulder to the ground with a resounding thud. To encourage the victim the bystanders flung more money onto the cloth, but Andy succeeded in throwing three men in succession—no mean feat for a beginner. But with the fourth he had the worst of it, for after a prolonged struggle his foot slipped and he fell, so that his opponent could get an arm under his shoulder and over the back of his neck and force him down.

Abu el-Kasim uttered shrieks of anguish and wept as if he had lost a great sum of money instead of the one silver coin he had thrown onto the cloth. But Andy rubbed his aching neck and said, “I only hope Mussuf taught me right; I can’t stand up to these slippery fellows, though I’m certainly stronger than they are.”

He sat with a colored cloth over his shoulders, carefully observing the matches that followed. I believe he learned a great deal from them, for encouraged by the considerable sum now amassed on the cloth the wrestlers fought their best. The final victor was one Iskender, who looked no more formidable than the rest, though his shoulders were as broad as a bread oven, and a lighter man could not move him from the spot. Andy surveyed him wide eyed, and said, “That Iskender’s no fool, and he’ll be an opponent after my own heart when I get so far. But I’ve seen enough today to know that I’ve much to learn.”

He did not let his first defeat discourage him, and indeed it proved an advantage, for the other gureshes were all the readier to accept him as one of themselves. Iskender gave him four silver pieces from the heap he had won and declared that Andy had fully earned them; for custom required the victor to share his winnings with the other competitors.

The stake money was however the least of the sums to change hands on such occasions, for large amounts were wagered among the onlookers, whether on individual bouts or on the final result; this last was by no means a foregone conclusion. Even the most eminent wrestler, having come triumphantly through ten or fifteen successive encounters with powerful adversaries, could never be confident of wresting the final victory from perhaps a weaker man who came fresh to the attack. Wrestlers and their patrons followed a set system for determining the order of competitors on different days, which evened out the chances and made the final result very uncertain. If therefore a novice wagered solely on the appearance of the men without knowing anything of the order in which they were to fight, he might make very bad mistakes.

Spectators and patrons began to pay greater attention to Andy, and soon it was his turn to gather up the pile of money. On that day Abu el-Kasim’s joy knew no bounds. He jumped up and down, then flew open armed at Andy and planted a smacking kiss on his mouth, so that Andy yelled, spat, and hurled him back among the onlookers who, in an ecstasy of mirth, caught him on their outstretched arms. Abu el-Kasim at once bestowed the prescribed proportion of his winnings in alms, displaying deep emotion at his own munificence. But the rest of the money he quickly knotted into a bundle and clasped to his breast, wondering aloud where he could lay hands on an iron chest in which to secure it.

The sum was negligible in comparison with his real fortune, but he liked to feign poverty and entertain the public with his dread of the taxgatherer. And indeed, it was not long before a fat, breathless man arrived at our dwelling. He leaned on his staff of office and looked about him greedily from under a big, bulging turban, and at the sight of him Abu el-Kasim cringed, wrung his hands and said, “O tax- gatherer Ali ben-Ismail, why do you persecute me? Not three moons have passed since your last visit, and I’m a poor man.”

He hastened forward to support Ali ben-Ismail; I took the visitor’s other arm and between us we helped him to a seat on the broadest cushion in the house. When he had settled himself and got his breath back, he smiled sadly and said, “Abu el-Kasim! The ruler of Algiers and of the sea, king of countless Berber tribes, Allah’s representative and commander in this city—in short, Sultan Selim ben-Hafs—has been pleased to turn his eyes upon you. You’ve become rich; you’ve brought water to your courtyard and refurnished your rooms. Costly rugs have been seen here and even silver cups, which are forbidden by the Koran. You have bought three new slaves: one brings you in enormous sums as a wrestler, another is an indescribably lovely woman with eyes of different colors, who sees strange things in sand, so that even the women of the harem have taken to visiting the public bathhouse to hear her foretell the future. The third earns substantial sums for you as a quacksalver—he’s no doubt this goatlike man beside you, who now stands and goggles at me. I’m also told that people come to you from remote villages to bring something which you call ‘cheap ambergris.’ By such false terminology do you swindle your customers.”

Abu el-Kasim warmly denied the charge, but the taxgatherer smote him on the head with his staff and said irascibly, “That’s what I’m told, and I should pay little attention if the matter had reached no other ears than mine. I’m a good-natured man and because of my bulk I dislike trudging the streets. But Sultan Selim ben-Hafs has also heard of it, which has put me in a questionable light. I’m vexed with you, Abu el-Kasim; hitherto I’ve been content with ten gold pieces a year and you’ve vilely cheated me, setting at nought my friendship and protection. Now we’re both in trouble, for the Sultan has laid an extra tax upon you of a thousand gold pieces.”

“A thousand!” yelped Abu el-Kasim. Throwing off turban and cloak he began to jump about half-naked, knocking over jars and baskets in his frenzy. “A thousand! The whole street isn’t worth that sum, and Allah has plainly deprived Selim ben-Hafs of the remainder of his wits. By the time I’d collected even the tenth part of it I should be toothless with age.”

“Did you say the tenth part?” exclaimed the taxgatherer in amazement. “A hundred gold pieces? Then Allah is indeed great and I’ve found for my lord a goose that lays golden eggs all unsuspected. You astonish me; for I was only joking, being inquisitive about your growing fortunes.”

Abu el-Kasim had abrupdy ceased his capering, and now said with a malicious glint in his eye, “So. You were making game of me. Then I’ll give your wife such an ointment of paradise that after embracing her you’ll die in agony, foaming at the mouth.”

Taxgatherer Ali ben-Ismail sweated slightly, and his eyes were cold as he said in a harsh tone, “Don’t take the jest to heart, my dear Abu. It’s all part of my duty. I’ve been ordered to make closer scrutiny of your household because Selim ben-Hafs, blessed be his name, needs money to buy another couple of boys. So let us come to some friendly arrangement, as usual. You’d gain nothing if I were dismissed and replaced by a leaner, hungrier man whom you would have to make fat.”

Abu felt grave misgivings on hearing that his fortune was the talk of the town. But all he said was, “Cursed be Selim ben-Hafs. He has already thirty young boys in his harem and at least as many women. Am I, poor wretch, to pay for his lascivious amusements? Hear now a remarkable dream that I’ve had. A Deliverer came from the sea, and at his coming the taxgatherers were led in bonds through the city and flogged at every street corner.”

The fat official sweated more than ever, and raised a finger to silence Abu.

“Such dreams are dangerous,” he said, “and I cannot think how it is that so many others have been plagued with them. In the name of the Compassionate, dear Abu, refrain from trumpeting your dreams abroad! Remember that even we, the taxgatherers, are poor men.”

After prolonged haggling Ali ben-Ismail agreed to take fifty pieces of gold, and said, “I know that you’ll feel the loss of this great sum, and I advise you to make up its value in silver coins and cups, and in your slave woman’s bracelets. Carry all this to the treasury to be weighed, so that everyone may see how I’ve denuded you.”

No suggestion could have been more welcome to Abu. He gathered up vessels and coins to the value of fifty pieces of gold and having helped Ali to his feet they set off. The taxgatherer walked first, leaning on his staff and panting, while sweat poured down his fat cheeks. After him scuttled Abu el-Kasim wearing only a dirty turban and a loincloth, with the bundle on his back. As he went he shrieked, lamented, and uttered heart-rending appeals to Allah, so that even the neighbors were moved. For once his tears were genuine, for fifty gold pieces was a great deal of money, even for him.

However, before the hour of evening prayer, Abu el-Kasim returned well satisfied from the treasury. He washed, put on clean clothes, performed his devotions, and said, “The money fell in good soil, for even the clerks pitied me when they saw me compelled to surrender my slave woman’s bangles, and this evening the whole city’s in an uproar over Selim’s rapacity. Lamps will burn late tonight in all wealthy houses while the owners bury their treasure beneath the flagstones.”

Nevertheless the treasury had wrought a marvel in extorting fifty gold pieces from Abu el-Kasim, and not many days later my white- bearded teacher said to me,

“I have praised your aptitude for learning, and the Faqih himself wishes to behold your face.”

This was the greatest honor that could have been done me, for the Faqih was the most learned man in the school, and deeply versed in the branches of fiqh, or jurisprudence. As mufti he was competent, in all matters relating to the law in which there was uncertainty or ambiguity, to issue a decree called a fatwa. He stood in high favor with the ruler, for he had profited by his knowledge of the Koran, Sunna, and fiqh to make pronouncements favorable to the Sultan in troublesome affairs. Compared with him my teacher was but a poor man whose only merit was to know the Koran by heart and be competent to instruct the newly converted.

I was alarmed at the thought of meeting this great man, for only gradually had I come to appreciate the wealth of the Arabic language and to learn how many ways there were of reading the Koran, how many words could be made to express one idea and how many interpretations could be put upon one word. My teacher counted fifty words for “camel” and as many as a hundred for “sword,” to denote all the varieties of that weapon.

The Faqih was sitting with his writing materials before him, in a room containing many books and reading desks. He had a jar of dates by him and from time to time he took one out, sucked it, and spat the stone onto the floor before me, then licked his fingers and took a sip of water from a goblet. Seeing that he was enjoying a period of rest and refreshment, I took courage and greeted him reverently.

“I have heard,” said he gently, “that you’re a skilled physician from the Frankish countries, and are zealously striving to become a good Moslem. Tell me, therefore, of your Lord, your Prophet, and your rule.”

These things were well known to me and I answered, “Allah the one God is my Lord and Mohammed is his Prophet, blessed be his name. The Koran is my rule, virtue the way of my spirit, Sunna my path.”

He nodded in approval, and stroking the beard which reached to his belt he asked, “What is the key to prayer?”

This question too was easy, and I answered readily, “The key to prayer is devout purification; the key to purification is the profession of the name of God; the key to profession is steadfast faith; the key to faith is trust; the key to trust is hope; the key to hope is obedience; and the key to obedience is:
Allah most high is the one God and him do I profess.”

Again he nodded, and asked, “How do you perform the purification when preparing yourself for prayer?”

“I have been taught that there are six requirements for the partial ablution: announcement of intention, the washing of the face, hands, and arms to the elbows; the drying of the head and the washing of the feet to the ankle bones, all in the proper order. But the following ten actions are meritorious—to wash the hands before dipping them in the bowl; to rinse the mouth; to rinse the nose by sniffing up water; to wash the whole head and cleanse the ears inside and out; to comb the beard with the fingers; to spread out fingers and toes when washing them; to wash the right hand and right foot before the left hand and left foot and to repeat all this thrice in succession.”

The Faqih sucked dates, his eyes half closed.

“What do you repeat after the ablution?”

“After the ablution I say, ‘I bear witness that there is no God but Allah. He is one and indivisible and Mohammed is his servant and Prophet. O Lord, grant me to be among the penitent, grant me to be of the company of the pure. Praise be to Allah! To his glory I declare that there is no other God than he. Before his face I plead for mercy and repent of my evil deeds.’ According to the sacred tradition, the Prophet with his own mouth has proclaimed, ‘For him who pronounces these words after every ablution the eight gates of Paradise stand open, and he may enter through which one he pleases.’“

So I ended, feeling well satisfied with myself for having been able to recite these important prayers. But the Faqih suddenly opened his eyes, spat out a date stone and said angrily, “You speak the holy words like a parrot, and prate of Paradise when you’re not even circumcised.”

I choked. Many renegades submitted to circumcision after only an hour or two of instruction, to be done with it, but I had hesitated to undergo this unpleasing ordeal, and hoped I might succeed in evading it altogether.

Having thus thoroughly frightened me, the Faqih went on in triumph, “If you’d been speaking from the heart instead of from the hps you would long since have become united to Islam through the outward token of circumcision. Islam does not ask after a man’s nation, nor after the color of his skin, for all races and colors are united by that sign. But you’re only a slave, and perhaps your master is to blame for the omission. I hear that he’s a wealthy dealer in drugs, named Abu el-Kasim, and that he owns a Christian woman. Her eyes are said to be of different colors, and therefore she is able to see coming events in a bowl of sand. And I am told that the women of the harem run to the public bathhouse to meet her, and reward her richly for foretelling the future for them. Is this true?”

“Venerable and learned Faqih,” I exclaimed, “may Allah of his grace preserve me from spying in the bathhouse during women’s bathing hours!”

“Don’t prevaricate! I’ve heard that it is so. But whether the gift is from Allah or the devil, or whether she’s a charlatan, your master must have a
fatwa for her, or else lock her up.”

I was shocked at his greed, and losing all veneration for him I looked up and said, “My master may have forgotten, but he’ll no doubt offer you a gift proportionate to his means, on receiving from you the necessary fatwa. But the taxgatherer has squeezed him dry, and not even by force could you extort from him more than a couple of gold pieces.”

Tears of indignation rose to my eyes as I reflected what vile cheats there were in the world. But the Faqih raised his head and said, “Before issuing this fatu/a I must see the slave woman, but she must not give scandal by coming here. After the evening prayer on Friday I will visit Abu el-Kasim’s house and he is not to receive me with the honor befitting my rank. I shall come secretly, with my face hidden. Take this message to Abu el-Kasim. Perhaps I will be content with fifty pieces of gold, for Allah is merciful and gracious.”

I wondered what was really in his mind, for I had grown accustomed to the habit common to the people of Islam of never speaking out. But Abu el-Kasim was delighted at the message, and said, “Things are going better than I could have hoped, and Sinan the Jew was indeed wise to provide me with such good bait for my hooks. For this day’s work I’ll give you a new turban and a white robe, and so acquire merit.”

I asked in surprise, “How can you rejoice that this greedy Faqih comes to rob you?”

Abu el-Kasim answered, “Of course he wants money. He’s no more than human. But his curiosity is as strong as his greed. He must surely have heard the nature of the visions that our Delilah sees in the sand, and now wishes to observe for himself which way the wind blows, so as to gather all safely in before the storm.”

When Friday came, Abu el-Kasim bade Giulia roast some ptarmigan, and not stint pepper, cloves, or nutmeg. I bought sugar cakes from the pastry cook and filled a bowl with fruit and sweetmeats, sprinkling over these a white powder that gave them a fiery taste and induced thirst. Abu chilled the drinking water and flavored it with stimulating spices. Then—most important preparation of all—he told Giulia what to say, warning her against giving herself into the power of evil spirits and seeing profitless visions.

After the evening prayer the Faqih arrived, his face hidden by a corner of his cloak, and knocked on the door with his staff. On entering he sniffed the good smells with pleasure, and drawing forth his beard which he had tucked under his belt he stroked it and said reproachfully, “Prayer is better than savory food, and I would be loath to cause you any trouble, Abu el-Kasim. A fig or two and a bowl of water are enough for me.”

Nevertheless, after much voluble protest he allowed us to set the dishes before him, and ate slowly and purposefully until they were empty. Abu el-Kasim served him and poured water over his hands. Then he proffered a beautifully embroidered silken bag, saying, “This purse contains twenty pieces of gold which I hope you’ll accept as a present. Believe me, they’re all I possess, but I won’t forget to make you further free-will offerings when I have more. Now I have a slave woman about whom I would ask your advice, to ensure against any infringement of the law. Her eyes are of different colors and she can see strange things in sand.”

The Faqih nodded, weighed the bag in his hand, and tucked it thoughtfully under his girdle. Abu el-Kasim led in Giulia by the hand, drew aside her veil and held up a lamp that the Faqih might see better.

“Allah is great!” said the Faqih in wonder. “Never have I seen anything of the kind. But with God all things are possible—and indeed it would amount to a Persian heresy to say that evil spirits were more powerful than Allah, and could bring about such a miracle against the divine will.”

Careless of cost, Abu el-Kasim threw a pinch of genuine ambergris onto the brazier; then he poured fine sand into a large copper dish and ordered Giulia to stir it with her finger. And as she gazed down into the dish she fell into a trance and began to speak in an altered voice. But I was now used to this, and neither believed nor feared.

“I see turbulent waters—out of the sea rises the banner of the Prophet. Indeed, the banner of the Prophet rises from the waves, and the Deliverer comes from the sea.”

“Do you speak to me, heathen woman?” demanded the Faqih in astonishment. “I don’t understand you, for the banner of the Prophet is kept in the Seraglio of the Great Sultan.”

Ignoring this, Giulia went on quickly and earnestly, “Out of the sea come ten asses with silver bits and silver bells. Ten camels follow—the camels have golden saddles and are laden with gifts for you, O Faqih. I see the waters full of ships. They are laden with plunder and sail into the harbor, and from their plunder generous alms are brought to you in the mosque; the hunters of the sea offer liberally of their booty and build splendid mosques and fountains. The king of the sea founds schools and hospitals and endows them richly, and the teacher shall not suffer want under his rule. But Faqih, Faqih! Before all this comes to pass, there is blood.”

The Faqih had been eagerly listening, but now he fingered his beard uneasily and said, “Blood? Foolish woman, do you indeed see blood? If so I suspect that an evil spirit speaks through your lips.”

“I see blood,” she went on. “A little pool of black, evil blood that doesn’t even soil the hem of your cloak—it sticks to your shoes. And so you change your shoes—you throw the old ones away and put on new ones—new shoes of red, scented leather. They’re adorned with precious stones—after that day there is no richer Faqih than yourself. Your name flies over the seas and the banner of the Prophet shields you from the wrath of the unbelievers. All this I see in the sand, old man, but no more—unless it be a cedarwood coffin with a turban upon it, to which pilgrims, remembering the great Faqih, come and pray from far distant lands and so acquire merit.”

Giulia covered her eyes with both hands and moaned as if she had had a bad dream. But the Faqih was in no way dismayed by the talk of a coffin; on the contrary the prophecy flattered him, and he said, “These predictions are remarkable, but I hardly think we need put much faith in them. They may have more to do with you, Abu el- Kasim, than with me, and I hardly know what to think; for a poor drug merchant would hardly pay twenty gold pieces just for advice. Let’s have no more beating about the bush; dismiss your slaves that we may talk alone together with none but Allah to hear us.”

Abu el-Kasim sent us away at once and locked the door, setting Andy to guard the outer gate. The learned Faqih remained until late that night, and when at last he departed as secretly as he had come, Abu el-Kasim sent Giulia to bed and summoned me.

“The plans are taking shape,” he said. “Have no fear, Michael el- Hakim; whatever happens the Faqih won’t betray us. True, he won’t risk burning his fingers by making out a fatwa for Delilah, but neither will he interfere, and she may continue plying her trade in the bathhouse.”

Thus Abu el-Kasim drew cautiously at first one thread and then another, knotting them together in a net in whose meshes Selim ben- Hafs would one day be entangled.

But the Faqih’s threats concerning circumcision had filled me with dread and I asked Abu el-Kasim whether Andy and I must indeed submit to so unpleasant an operation. He looked at us scornfully, and having rehearsed the many advantages to be gained by it he ended, “Why oppose it, when by such a trifle you may win the respect of all true believers? On that joyful day you may ride round the city on a white donkey and all devout believers will bring you presents and rejoice at your conversion.”

I replied crossly that I had not the least wish to ride round the city on a white donkey, to be made a public laughingstock, and reminded him that Andy’s progress as a wrestler would be seriously hindered if at this stage he were compelled to lie up with a slow-healing wound in his tenderest part. And I would never consider undergoing it without him, for we were brothers; we hoped to enter Paradise side by side and together enjoy the shade of its fruit trees.

Abu el-Kasim was not deceived by my pious words, and said, “Well! There’s a time for everything, and I shall eagerly await the day when, in accordance with the will of Allah, your brother justifies the high hopes I have of him.”

Nor did he have to wait long. Some days later he climbed on Andy’s shoulders and rode to the market place, and hardly had the wrestlers gathered in a ring with their arms about each other’s shoulders to determine the order of the bouts when a big black fellow appeared, attended by a party of soldiers. He threw out his chest and thumped it with his fists as he challenged, “Iskender, Iskender! Come here and have your ears torn off! After that I’ll attend to Antar, of whom I’ve heard so much.”

The wrestlers muttered uneasily among themselves, and warned Andy, saying, “That is Selim ben-Hafs’s master wrestler. Don’t anger him; let him win and take the money, for then perhaps he’ll leave us in peace and not hurt us. But if you win you’ll be summoned to wrestle before the Sultan, and although at first you may get the better of all his wrestlers, the day will come when you find yourself lying in the sand with a broken neck.”

Andy answered warmly, “Your faith seems weak; you forget that Allah has preordained all things. Go, Iskender, and let him beat you! Then I will tackle him and you shall behold such a match as you’ve never seen before. If it be the will of Allah, this shall be my last bout in the market place; after that I shall appear only before the Sultan and his court.”

At this, great excitement arose among the wrestlers’ patrons, and silver and gold pieces showered onto the cloth. The soldiers formed a circle and thrust back the onlookers, while the Sultan’s master wrestler, ugly and gleaming with oil, jumped up and down in the middle and roared his challenge. Iskender, adjuring him in the name of Allah to observe the rules of “good” wrestling, ran in at him, but it was not long before he was tossed into the air, and fell with a crash. He lay moaning for some time, feeling his arms and legs, but I think he was little harmed by the fall, and behaved thus to flatter his ferocious opponent. Two other men stepped forward and the master wrestler threw them without difficulty. But when he noticed that he was beginning to sweat and pant, he became suspicious and cried, “Where’s that Antar skulking? He’s the man I came for, and I shan’t stay all day for him. My bath awaits me.”

Ignoring the warnings of the rest Andy at once stepped forward. It was clear that the black man held him in great respect, for he circled watchfully about him for some time before suddenly charging in like a bull with his head lowered, meaning to butt Andy in the stomach and wind him. But Andy stepped nimbly aside and getting a mighty grip of the other’s waist flung him high in the air. Like the adept he was, however, he landed on his feet, but at once Andy struck them from under him and he came headlong to the ground with Andy uppermost. Andy took firm hold of the back of his neck and pressing his face to the ground, he cried, “Which of us is biting the dust?”

The other wrestlers uttered warning yells, for in his extremity the brutal black took to “hard” wrestling, and getting his arms round one of Andy’s legs he set his teeth in the calf muscles. If Andy had been able to maintain his grip he would certainly have broken the fellow’s neck, but now pain forced him to loosen it. Soon they were rolling over and over each other on the ground, and I have never in my life seen such a struggle. Now Andy’s head thrust up, now he was down again while the blackamoor jumped on his chest, and would have broken all his ribs but for Andy’s massive build. Bleeding and with torn ears they at last broke loose from each other, and Selim ben- Hafs’s champion had evidently had enough. He was breathless, and letting his arms fall to his sides he spat some blood from his mouth and tried to laugh as he said sourly, “You live up to your reputation, Antar, and know something of ‘hard’ wresding too; but I’ve no right to expose myself to danger in the absence of my master the Sultan. Nor did I fail to notice your underhand stratagem in tempting me to waste my strength before I started on you. So let us continue our match tomorrow, in the presence of the Sultan. I don’t doubt that he will richly reward whichever one of us survives.”

Casting an embarrassed glance around him he wiped the blood from his ears to gain time for recovery. But the crowd uttered wild cheers and their hatred of Selim ben-Hafs found vent in savage abuse of his wrestler.

Andy, breathing hard, yelled, “You bit me in the calf, you swine. Tomorrow my leg will be swollen and I shan’t be at all surprised if your poisonous teeth cause me to run about barking and foaming at the mouth and avoiding water. And it was for the sake of water that I became a follower of the Prophet. But you shall learn tomorrow that I too have teeth—and teeth that can crack marrow bones!”

When the black wresder had gone, followed by his guards, Abu el-Kasim burst out into wild lamentations as usual, and smote Andy over the head with his staff. For if Andy were beaten next day, what was Abu to do with a cripple? And if he won it would be worse, for then Selim ben-Hafs would buy him and Abu would have lost him for good.

But the other wrestlers snatched the stick from his hand and attended us in triumph to our house, where I washed and dressed Andy’s leg wound and anointed his bruises, a task to which I was already well-accustomed.

Seeing what good will the other wrestlers bore to Andy, Abu el- Kasim resigned himself to the will of Allah. A sheep was roasted in the forecourt and a cauldron of millet was set boiling, and when all was ready Abu filled several dishes with this good food and carried it to the wrestlers with his own hand.

After the meal, when at sunset the muezzin called the faithful to prayer, the wrestlers washed themselves, performed their devotions, and recited three or four—some of them even ten—verses from the Koran, for Andy’s success. “We have every confidence in Allah,” they said, “but it must be easier, even for him, to help a man who helps himself.” And so they stayed until late at night to teach Andy all they could about “hard” wresding. As I listened to them, and saw the tricks they demonstrated, the hair rose upon my head in horror.

Abu el-Kasim took me aside and said, “This is the will of Allah, and never will you get a better chance to learn your way about in Selim ben-Hafs’s kasbah. You may even be able to make useful acquaintances, and it’ll do no harm if I give you a few coins to knot into your girdle. If you should happen to drop one or two of them, don’t stoop to pick them up again; remember that miserly behavior is unbecoming in the mansions of the great.”

At about midnight, Abu drove out the wrestlers and we put Andy to sleep on the softest pillows in the house. He tossed and turned and sighed half the night, then with a curse he took his cloak, wrapped it round his head and curled himself up on the floor. Immediately his snores resounded through the house. Wc did not wake him for the morning prayer, and Abu prayed on his behalf. Later we took Andy to the baths and had him rubbed by a powerful masseur to drive the stiffness out of him. Next we shaved his head, oiled him with the slipperiest oil we had in the house, and strengthened his leather breeches at waist and knee, lest they be stripped off during the fight.

After the noon prayer all the wrestlers of the market assembled, and noisily carried Andy up the steep street to the kasbah, to spare his wounded leg. At first he resisted, but they forced him to lie in the litter which they took turns to carry on their shoulders. And so he resigned himself, and lay with one hand supporting his chin and the other waving greetings to the faithful, who showered him with blessings and urged him to tear the ears from Selim ben-Hafs’s master wrestler and not to spare even his more intimate parts.

The uproarious crowd followed us to the place of punishment outside the great gateway of the kasbah, but when they saw the guards parading in line and the remnants of executed persons impaled on the iron hooks, a sudden silence fell upon them, and many remembered important business awaiting them at home. Nevertheless the sons of many rich merchants, as well as money changers, backers, and other followers of the sport followed us through the gates. Under the archway we were all thoroughly searched by the guards, who made us remove our cloaks and then felt along all seams and hems; much cunning would have been necessary to smuggle in even the smallest knife.

On either side of the forecourt were the barracks and kitchens of the guard. A gateway in the inner wall led to a second courtyard, where our clothes were searched again. Before us rose a wall in which a fine wrought-iron gate allowed us a glimpse of a fountain and a number of evergreen trees. In our own court also there was a pool, and under a roof supported by most lovely columns stood the throne. The guard gathered about this and showed the spectators to their places.

The ring was not large, but was strewn with soft sand in which one sank to the ankles. Andy was amazed at this, having seen nothing like it before; here, he said, one could fall on one’s head without breaking one’s neck. But on the other hand it prevented quick moves and evasions. Brute strength counted for more than skill here; one could not even dash the adversary’s head against a stone, but had to vanquish him with one’s bare hands.

A large number of chamberlains, eunuchs, mamelukes, Negroes, and boys with painted faces gathered in the courtyard and took up their positions in front of those who had come in from the city. At the latticed window above the Sultan’s throne appeared a group of veiled women, who ordered the concealing slatted blinds to be removed, that they might have a better view and be themselves more visible to the spectators.

At last the gate in the third wall was opened, and Selim ben-Hafs, attended by the most distinguished members of his suite, staggered down the steps. His eyes were almost closed up by the quantities of opium he consumed, and his oiled face showed him to be in an evil humor.

The savage-looking wrestlers stepped at once into the arena, and dashed at one another till the sand flew; yet they were careful not to hurt one another, and their performance was largely make-believe. Selim ben-Hafs soon wearied of them and in a shrill, furious voice degraded them to hewers of wood, which seemed rather to please than to dismay these peaceable men.

Meanwhile I had been edging forward among the spectators, looking here and there as if in search of a better vantage point. I thus contrived to move about the courtyard and peep behind curtains, and no one stopped me, even when I entered the empty palace. I crept in and out of the cellars and even looked into the kitchens, where I was surprised by a cook who asked me in amazement what I wanted. I said, “I’m the brother of Antar, the famous wrestler, and a slave like yourself. Being very anxious on my brother’s account I find myself in need of the privy.”

The cook kindly showed me to the servants’ privy, which had brick supports for the feet and troughs which could be sluiced with water. Having relieved myself I conversed politely with the cook, and he invoked many blessings upon me, so that I gave him two square silver coins. He was delighted and showed me the great kitchen; he told me how many different dishes were prepared there daily for the Sultan, and how they were carried in and tasted three or four times before being set before him.

I asked him about the women of the harem, of whom Giulia had had so much to say after meeting them at the public bathhouse. The cook smiled slyly and replied, “Our ruler despises and neglects his wives, and therefore allows them a quite unseemly freedom. He delights more in boys. If you should happen to have another couple of silver coins on you I could show you a little secret which might amuse you, since you seem an inquisitive man.”

As I fumbled with my girdle I let fall a gold coin as if by accident, but did not stoop to pick it up. The cook was overjoyed, and said, “I see that you’ve had a good upbringing, slave though you are; and you’re a good Moslem too, for in the eyes of Allah avarice is the most detestable of sins.”

He picked up the coin, and having looked about him carefully, he led me up a narrow stair and along a passage that ended at an iron door.

“I’ve been told,” he said, “that this door is often used by those who for one reason or another do not wish to be seen at the golden gateway to the Court of Bliss. The door opens silently. If anyone comes out this way, all slaves and servants turn their backs. If anyone enters it, he blinds the eyes of the curious with a shower of gold and silver.”

At this point we heard a vigorous clanging of bells from the courtyard. The cook was eager to see the greatest match of the day, and I followed him into the open air. But, as in Sinan’s house, I had had the impression, throughout my rambles in this palace, of being watched. I felt that invisible eyes had followed my every step. Therefore I rejoined Abu el-Kasim and stayed beside him to watch the wrestling, as if I had had indeed no other object in my wanderings than to find the privy.

Andy and the Sultan’s black master wrestler had now stepped into the ring. Amid the ringing of bells they greeted Sultan Selim ben-Hafs, who responded merely with a gesture of impatience, as a sign that the fight might begin. At the same instant the black charged at Andy with lowered head, snatching up a handful of sand as he ran and throwing it in Andy’s face to blind him. But Andy turned aside in time and shut his eyes, their two powerful bodies collided, and each got a sturdy grasp of the other. The black man had a body like a hundred-year oak, and his limbs were as knotted as its branches; it was a magnificent sight to see these two herculean men squeezing one another, each striving to break the other’s hold.

In honest wrestling Andy was clearly the better man, and when his black adversary saw that he lacked the strength to overcome him fairly, he sank his teeth into Andy’s shoulder. He had aimed at his car, but Andy was too quick for him, and now panted wrathfully.

“A man must follow the customs of the country”—and in his turn Andy bit deep into the Negro’s shoulder, so that the fellow howled and Selim ben-Hafs burst out laughing.

Andy was already forcing the black to his knees, but the oily body slipped from his grasp and the next moment the Negro drove his head violently against Andy’s chest, which resounded like a drum. Undeterred, Andy stooped like lightning and seized the fellow’s ankles, threw him down and began whirling him round at such speed that the onlookers cried out aghast, and Selim ben-Hafs recoiled and clutched his head with both hands. But Andy did no more than hurl his opponent headlong onto the sand. Unhurt, the man leaped to his feet and charged again.

The struggle continued, with Andy holding his own, and the backers, forgetful of the Sultan’s presence, shouted and raised their bids. But Selim ben-Hafs scowled and showered insults upon his champion. From now on the rabble knew that this man’s life was at stake. Once more he gained firm hold of Andy, twisted and turned and tried with all his might to get his thumb into his eyes or kick him in the groin. He would not give in though Andy threw him several times so that by rights he should have confessed himself beaten. But each time he rose, and with foaming lips and bloodshot eyes dashed in mad fury at Andy, to kill him at the first opportunity. At last he got a thumb into Andy’s eye, and it was Andy’s turn to yell with pain. But at that moment came a snap as the champion’s arm was broken, and in a flash Andy was pressing the man’s face into the sand.

He thought the sport was at an end, but Selim ben-Hafs had wearied of his own wrestler, who had shamed him before all the people, and he signed to Andy to continue. Andy rose bewildered, not understanding what he meant, and at once the Negro, careless of his agony, threw his sound arm round Andy’s legs and brought him to the ground; then knelt upon his tenderest parts and tried to get his teeth into his throat. Nothing was left for Andy to do but lock the fellow’s arms and break his neck. Selim ben-Hafs burst into noisy laughter and applause.

A bundle containing money was now given to Andy; Selim ben- Hafs also bestowed a purse upon him and Abu el-Kasim received a kaftan of honor, in recognition of the great pleasure the contest had afforded the Sultan. But the body of the champion Selim ordered to be taken away and thrown into the sewers, since in his opinion the fellow deserved no better burial. When the spectators began to leave we were detained by the Sultan’s servants, and we wondered uneasily what more he required of us.

Abu el-Kasim was first brought before him, to kneel and kiss the ground before the throne.

“What is the price of your slave?” asked Selim ben-Hafs.

Abu would not have been Abu if he had not instantly burst into tears and vowed that he was a poor man, and so on incessantly, until Selim ben-Hafs raised his hands and commanded him in the name of Allah to cut short his lamentations.

“What is the price of your slave?” he repeated, signing meanwhile to one of his attendants, who in a significant manner began fingering a supple cane.

Abu el-Kasim broke from the grasp of the two men who held him, carefully removed the kaftan of honor that the Sultan had presented to him, and then rent his garments, calling Allah to witness that never in Algiers or indeed anywhere in the world had such another wrestler been seen. Such a marvel of nature only appeared once in a hundred years, just as Allah sent to mankind every century a new interpreter of the Koran, to invigorate the ancient wisdom.

But Selim ben-Hafs turned a deaf ear and yawned, “Send him to my palace tomorrow. Allah will surely recompense and reward you with his favors.”

The attendants hastened to raise the Sultan from his throne, and we were conducted through the archway into the forecourt. There an old woman approached me, held out a dirty bundle and whispered rapidly, “My name is Fatima. The eunuchs know me, if you inquire for me and give them a trifle. Open this bundle in private and read the letter in it to the one to whom it’s addressed.”

I hid the bundle under my cloak and we returned to Abu el-Kasim’s house, in the street of the spice dealers, where a crowd of wrestlers and others were waiting to acclaim us. They gave presents to Andy and invoked many blessings upon him; but when, with a bad grace, Abu el-Kasim had served them food, he sent them all away and locked the doors. We then attended Andy’s hurts. I feared most for his eye, which was badly swollen, but found that its sight was uninjured.

Remembering the bundle I had been given, I opened it and stared in amazement. Hidden in the dirty rag was a beautiful purse embroidered with silver thread, containing six gold pieces and a scrap of paper. I unfolded this and read a poem in Arabic, written in a graceful hand and, so far as I could understand, having as its theme Andy’s bodily attractions. Abu took it from me and having read it, said, “This was written by a woman, who’s no very eminent poet. But her meaning’s clear. I won’t trouble about the first verses, for they’d only make a simpleton like Andy vainer than he is. But she goes on, ‘Do not repulse a woman sick for love of you, who can but bewail, in her anguish, her inability to conceal the passion that tears her heart. As a token of her good will she sends you these six gold pieces. You have only to consult your guide secretly to learn the time and place for bringing her your answer.’ ”

This was by no means the first time that Andy had received a delicate hint of some woman’s favor. The poem aroused pleasant hopes in him and he seemed not altogether sad when next day Abu el-Kasim took him to the palace and handed him over to the Sultan’s attendants.

I saw nothing more of him for a week, and then one day he kicked open our door and swaggered in singing. I thought he had forgotten his good resolutions and was drunk. He was wearing baggy trousers and a kaftan of the very finest cloth. On his head was the tall felt cap of a soldier and at his belt hung a scimitar in a silver scabbard. At first he pretended not to recognize us, and demanded, “What is this hovel, and who are you miserable wretches, slaving here in the sweat of your brow? Do you not see that I’m a man of rank?”

He smelled of musk and looked so unfamiliar in his splendor that even my dog sniffed nervously at his red leather shoes. Abu el-Kasim raised his hands to heaven, crying, “Praise be to Allah! Surely you have brought me presents from Selim ben-Hafs to whom I gave you.”

Andy forgot his play-acting and answered, “Don’t speak to me of that nauseous beast. His memory is shorter than a hen’s; for years he has neglected even his wives, and the poor women complain bitterly, and await the Deliverer’s coming. He sends you no gifts, Abu el- Kasim, having long since forgotten you. He eats so much opium that at times he hardly knows whether he’s awake or dreaming. But I share liberally with my friends, so take this purse as a present from me, Abu el-Kasim.”

He threw into Abu’s arms a purse so heavy that the poor man’s knees sagged beneath it. Then Andy embraced me, and took my dog into his arms; I was horrified to notice that his breath smelled of wine.

“Andy, Andy!” I said. “Have you forgotten all your good resolutions and broken the Prophet’s law?”

He regarded me with shining eyes and replied, “The Prophet’s law is not binding on me so long as I wear the felt cap on my head and the warrior’s sword at my belt. It’s written plainly in the Koran that no one may join in prayer among the faithful when drunk, and may the devil devour me if anyone can get drunk without drinking. This was explained to me by a shrewd and cultured woman, whom I fully rely upon. It was she who persuaded me to drink wine and so overcome my natural bashfulness in her presence. So let’s have no more nonsense, my boy. And Abu el-Kasim! Open a jar of your best, and don’t imagine I don’t know what you have in all those vessels.”

He paid not the smallest attention to my remonstrances. Success had so gone to his head that he forgot his own unhappy experiences of the mischief caused by wine drinking. I was obliged to take a cup myself for consolation. And at last when Abu el-Kasim noted how the wine was disappearing he went and locked the door, after which he too filled a goblet, saying, “Since fate has decreed that my valuable wine be wasted, let me at least mitigate the loss by enjoying some of it myself. And since we’re alone within these four walls where none can see us, it can hardly be accounted to us for sin, for we give no scandal.”

The strong wine soon dispelled his regret for its loss, and when I urged Andy to tell us what had happened to him, he began thus: “When Abu el-Kasim had left me at the mercy of the servants, I sat alone for a long time, bewailing my fate like a young raven fallen from its nest. No one asked my name or gave me anything to eat. Only the shameless boys blinked their painted eyelids at me, and pointed and put out their tongues, and pinched me each in turn. Then an old woman called Fatima came in; she comforted me and assured me that all would turn out for the best if I would only have patience and wait. The Court of Bliss must of course remain closed to me, but she told me to walk up and down before the gate and gaze at the latticed windows, and assured me that benevolent glances would follow me from behind the reed blinds. At dusk she returned and led me to an iron door, which opened silently, and we stepped into a sweet-smelling room where she left me. The walls and floor were covered with valuable rugs, and strange to say when the woman had gone I couldn’t find the door, search as I would.

“As nothing further happened I grew hungry and tired; I stretched myself out on a bed that was there and fell asleep. When I awoke, the room was lit by many perfumed lamps and beside me sat a veiled woman who held my fist in her plump hands, and sighed. She addressed me in a language I didn’t know. I answered by reciting a poem with great difficulty, which Abu here had taught me. After that we exchanged a few words in the Frankish talk they use in the city—which must be the oldest in the world, since it evidently dates from the great confusion of Babel. For something to do, I pulled the veil from her face. She tried to prevent me—but not very hard. I must admit that she was beautiful and quite to my taste, though not exactly a chicken. Presently Fatima entered and set before us a number of delectable dishes—which reminds me that I’m hungry, and long for a good solid meal after all those delicacies.”

I brought him food, and at the sight of the familiar cooking pot Andy uttered joyful exclamations, and then continued, “When we had eaten I took this understanding lady’s hand, to show my good will. She sighed deeply, and so did I, for I saw that such was the custom. At this Fatima took pity on us and brought a jug of wine and a cup, after which the lady read to me from the Koran and expounded it more competently than many a scholar, so that I soon overcame my misgivings and distaste, and drank cautiously. Besides, I was confused at finding myself in such company, and hoped that the wine would help me to vanquish my bashfulness. I can’t speak of all that happened, but this I can say: we soon found that we had much in common. We were obliged to rise and wash ourselves, in compliance with the Koran, and refresh ourselves with reviving perfumes. This happened many times, until the obliging Fatima became impatient. She had never a wink of sleep and was constantly running up and down the steep stairs with buckets of water. She urged us in the name of Allah to make an end of our incautious behavior, as the cocks were crowing and the hour of the morning prayer was near. She was sent to fetch these clothes for me, for my own rags had long ago been flung into a corner.”

Andy lowered his eyes modestly, and having fished up a piece of mutton from the pot he went on, “Fatima took my hand, opened the iron door, and led me out, calling down the blessing of Allah upon me. And the blessings bore fruit, for in my new clothes I found a purse, into which my delicate-minded lady had slipped a gold coin each time I washed myself. I felt I could well spare two out of the seventeen gold pieces for the faithful Fatima who had so zealously served us. I wandered about the courtyard for a time, but felt just the least bit tired—and perhaps also a little muzzy, not having tasted wine for a good half-year. As I now wore a sword, and supposed that the men in the barracks would pay little attention to a slight deviation from the true path, I went and found an empty bed in the barracks. No one was surprised to see me; on the contrary they made me welcome with deep salaams, and the other inmates hastened to clear their belongings out of my way. There’s no more to tell.”

Abu el-Kasim passed the wine jar round again. Lifting the purse in his hands he said doubtfully, “Allah is great. You spoke of seventeen gold pieces, but if I’m not mistaken this purse contains at least a hundred.”

Andy turned very red and avoided my eye. Then he said somewhat hesitantly, “Well, that first evening in barracks I’d hardly risen from the prayer mat when Fatima appeared again, pulled at my sleeve, and with many tender expressions summoned me to the same agreeable occupation. At daybreak I was much richer than I had been on the previous evening. But Fatima is a frail old thing, and being wearied by the continual water carrying she invited me to come that evening straight to the Sultan’s bathroom. With a bundle of firewood on my back I passed straight through the Gateway of Bliss, and the eunuchs readily showed me the way. I spent an agreeable night in that warm place, and lacked neither food nor drink. When day dawned, the understanding lady raised her hands to heaven and said, ‘Allah is great. I have a good and trustworthy woman friend who won’t believe what I say of you. Allow me, therefore, my dear Antar—’ these were her very words—’allow me therefore to bring this skeptical woman with me to the bath.’ ”

“Andy!” I exclaimed, much shaken. “You shock me unspeakably. To comfort one lonely and open-handed woman is one thing, but to lure another into your shamelessness is another. You go too far.”

“Exactly what I said,” agreed Andy hastily. “But this devout woman recited so many verses from the Koran and expounded them so fully that my head was in a whirl; moreover she was a woman of education, and I could hardly set myself up to know more than she did.”

“Great Allah!” exclaimed Abu el-Kasim. But Andy continued, the back of his neck growing ever redder, “The lady appeared that evening with her friend; and I didn’t regret it, for this woman was if possible even more luscious than Amina. And I think that neither of them was dissatisfied with me. The other lady also, with equal delicacy, put a gold piece in my purse each time I washed. But—” and here Andy groaned—”how could I guess on the following night no fewer than three woman would preen themselves before me, each lovelier and more blooming than the other! It was hard not to offend any of them, and favor one at the expense of the rest. But when on the night after that, four came, I was annoyed, and told them that there was a limit to everything.”

“And you were quite right,” assented Abu el-Kasim in alarm. “The pitcher can go once too often to the well, and I feel really anxious on your account.”

Andy swallowed another cupful of wine and continued, “In the morning Amina said, ‘You have four devoted wives, Antar, and you’ve neglected none of them, but have observed the injunctions of the Koran concerning behavior to a woman. But my moon is waning, and I wish no one to have pleasure of you in my absence. I shall love you to my last hour. Eat and drink diligently that you may be at the height of your powers when next I summon you.’“

I was struck dumb by his story and could not utter a word. Abu el-Kasim finished counting the money and locked it up carefully in his strongbox. At last I stammered in the greatest agitation, “Is this the thanks I get for having tried to set you a good example all these years? Never could I have believed that the poetic art could cause so much harm, for all this began with a scrap of verse that according to Abu was not even good. Now I understand why the Prophet, blessed be his name, laid his curse upon poets.”

I was so angry with Andy that I could have struck him—most of all because he had won the favor of four distinguished ladies and, as a reward for his sin, a bag of gold—while I knew not a single friendly disposed woman who desired my company, even for nothing. But Andy was unmoved. He rose and left us, his baggy trousers flapping in the spring breeze. Abu el-Kasim gazed after him and said with a shake of his monkey head, “His foolishness and audacity may be very useful to us, but I daren’t whisper any of our plans to him, for those women would have it out of him in no time. Michael el-Hakim, the time is nearly ripe, the spring winds are blowing, and the Deliverer comes from the sea. So let’s leave ointments and eye black and think of graver matters. We will capture the city of Algiers with our bare hands as we promised Sinan the Jew.”

Next day Abu el-Kasim summoned some of the wealthiest merchants, entertained them on a princely scale, and let Giulia gaze into the sand for them. When they had heard her these respectable men tore their beards and said, “If it were true! If the holy banner of the Prophet should really rise from the sea to free us from the greed of Selim ben-Hafs! But his soldiers have keen swords, and his executioners stout ropes at their disposal.”

Abu el-Kasim tore his own beard and said, “I’m a merchant like yourselves and make many journeys. At such times I hear much that remains unknown to the rich and mighty. Last autumn it was already said that the great Khaireddin was fitting out his fleet to recapture Algiers for the High Porte before the figs were ripe. I’m anxious on your account, as you’re wealthier than myself, and have more to lose. For if the great Khaireddin should meet with opposition, the last state will be worse than the first. Personally I fail to understand why anyone should risk his business and his property for these infernal Hafsids.”

The merchants said hopefully, “Let us send him secret word that we won’t oppose his coming, but greet him with palm branches, if only he will drive out Selim’s people and bow the tyrant’s head to the dust.”

But Abu el-Kasim shook his head with a worried air and said, “I hear he wishes to ride in through open gates and be met by you carrying Selim ben-Hafs’s head on a golden platter. And further, you’re to proclaim him in the mosque as governor of Algiers and so atone for your former treachery. On these conditions he promises to drive out the Spaniards and destroy their fortress at the harbor mouth. And he will certainly reward those who proclaim him governor.”

The merchants raised their hands in deprecation and cried with one voice, “Alas, this is wild and dangerous talk. How are we, with our bare hands, to vanquish Selim ben-Hafs and his thousand stern soldiers, with their cannon and their swords?”

Abu el-Kasim answered, “I saw in a dream ten wily men who between them collected ten thousand gold pieces and placed them in the hands of a trustworthy friend. Hassan, the officer commanding at the eastern gate, shut his eyes; camels brought arms into the city, hidden in the grain baskets, and the merchants concealed these weapons in their warehouses. I saw also ten bold men, each of whom chose and spoke to ten other bold men, and these in their turn did the same. They remained undiscovered, for each man knew only the nine others in his group, and his chief. In my dream this happened very quickly. I saw arms hidden in the sand of the seashore and a great fleet lay off the coast awaiting the signal to anchor and land its forces on either side of the city, so that they might march in through the open gates.

In this strange dream of mine it was all as simple as cracking an egg. But no man is answerable for his dreams.”

By this time many of the merchants were holding their hands over their ears so as not to hear such dangerous talk. Others were dubious, but the oldest among them stroked his beard and said, “Were a fatwa to be issued, the duty of every true Moslem would be to rise against Selim ben-Hafs and crush him. We should merely proclaim the fatwa at some suitable moment, and distribute the weapons. The Faqih has the fullest knowledge of the Koran and the sacred tradition. Selim ben- Hafs betrayed the faith when he allied himself with the Spaniards. As soon as the Faqih has prepared his fatwa he can set forth on a pilgrimage; should the enterprise fail, Khaireddin would certainly secure his old age. I’m willing to speak to the Faqih; being an old man and tired of life I have little to lose. The only question remaining is where to find a trustworthy man to hold the ten thousand gold pieces.”

“He sits before you,” said Abu el-Kasim, with simple dignity. But the eldest merchant paid no attention. He stroked his beard and said, “The man must be entirely trustworthy, for if he’s discovered and is asked whence this money came, we shall deny everything and swear on the Koran that he’s a liar. It will be no sin if we have a fatwa to appeal to. But if all goes well we can present ourselves before Khaireddin and say, ‘Behold, we did this thing; do not forget us.’ There remains only the problem—where to find the right man?”

Abu el-Kasim swore by Allah, the Koran, and his own beard that he was working in the cause of freedom and demanded nothing for himself. Having no other proposal the merchants found themselves compelled to trust him. At dusk one evening an iron chest appeared in our courtyard. In it lay ten leather bags within each of which were ten smaller ones, containing one hundred gold coins apiece. With some difficulty we carried this chest indoors. Abu el-Kasim locked the door and closed the shutters, and when Giulia had retired for the night he carefully counted the money. I had never seen so much gold in a single’heap before, and I said, “Abu, my dear master, let us quickly put the money back in the bags, hire a sturdy camel, and leave the city while there’s yet time.”

But Abu el-Kasim sighed, “Lead me not into temptation, Michael el-Hakim. Khaireddin’s weapons are ready, but it will take much to induce the rapacious Hassan to look the other way when they’re brought to the city. There are also Selim’s troops to be bribed. We can be thankful if even half this sum remains for us.”

All went smoothly. At the caravansary strangers with lean faces and burning eyes appeared, fumbling for the swords they did not carry. Poor tradesmen and artisans quaked and spent sleepless nights when in compliance with the fatwa they concealed weapons in their warehouses and granaries. But the Faqih set forth upon a long pilgrimage, and the eldest sons of the merchants kept him company; for so it was ordained in a marvelous dream that he had had.

Fruit trees blossomed and braziers were no longer necessary indoors. My heart was in my mouth all that time, though Abu el-Kasim cheered me, saying, “Ah, Michael, danger is the spice of life! How soon we weary of a quiet, comfortable existence. Nothing in the world gives a man so good an appetite or such sound sleep as approaching danger. Only then does a man fully appreciate the days remaining to him.”

No doubt he spoke in mockery, for I continually cried out in my sleep, and an unpleasant sensation in my throat had bereft me of all desire for food. But when the soft spring wind brought the scent of blossom to my nostrils I could find comfort from time to time in thinking of all the poor and oppressed people whom we should now be able to liberate from tyranny. And ever more eagerly I awaited the hour when Giulia would become my slave.

I was working outside the shop one warm spring day when I saw a strange youth approaching our house. As he walked one heard a pleasant jingling sound, for he wore a short tunic with a silken, tas- seled girdle to which silver bells were fastened. Below his knees he had bound silken ribbons with similar bells, and over his shoulders hung a lion skin, its forepaws crossed upon his breast. His well-kept, curly hair waved over his shoulders, he wore nothing on his head, and his black beard gleamed like silk. He carried a book bound in soft leather and as he paced along the street he opened it now and again and read, seemingly oblivous of all that went on around him, twirling the tassels of his girdle abstractedly, so that the bells jingled in time with his steps.

He was indeed the handsomest youth I had ever seen. When he drew nearer and I noted his beauty and his graceful, dignified bearing, I was filled with envy. He paused before me and addressed me in carefully articulated Arabic, “I have been told that Abu el-Kasim the drug merchant dwells here. If you are his son, Allah has indeed blessed him!”

My clothes were dirty and my hands stained with dye, and feeling exceedingly inferior in the presence of the stranger I replied abruptly, “This is Abu el-Kasim’s shop, but I’m only a slave. My name is Michael el-Hakim and I can’t invite you into the house as my master is out.”

The stranger surveyed me with his brilliant eyes and exclaimed, “Are you Michael el-Hakim? I’ve heard of you. Never have I beheld such beautiful eyes, such rosy cheeks, and such admirable hands as yours.”

He bent to take me in his arms and kissed me on both cheeks, so that I had difficulty in disengaging myself and began to have grave suspicions of him. When my dog saw me in this fair youth’s embrace he began barking and sniffing at the hairless legs. So the stranger released me, but whistling softly he bent to stroke Rael and spoke to him kindly in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish, thus revealing himself to be a man of education. So friendly was he to my dog that my hostility melted away, and I asked what he wanted of me. He answered, “I’m a wanderer for my faith, Michael el-Hakim, and I belong to a brotherhood of wanderers, a Sufi sect known by some Mussulmans as Love’s Beggars. My name is Mustafa ben-Nakir and I’m not of humble origin, though I call myself son of the angel of death. My lot is to wander from country to country and from town to town; as I go I read Persian poems to rejoice my heart.”

He opened his book, jingled his bells, and in a musical voice read aloud to me a few verses of Persian poetry, which were certainly very pleasing to the ear, though they meant as much to me as pearls mean to a swine. He evidently belonged to some sort of sacred brotherhood within Islam, but in contrast to most dervishes he glorified the pleasures of this life by the studied perfection of his appearance. I could not resist his attraction, and said, “Mustafa ben-Nakir, son of the angel of death, I’ve given much thought to death and your coming is timely. Yet you must be a great liar, for what should you know of me, a slave ? Come in, however, and let us see if we can find a piece of bread and some dried figs. When my master returns you must vanish, for he’s an irascible man and won’t tolerate strangers in his house.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir needed no second bidding, but stepped indoors and looked so keenly about him that I hid the jar of small change. I took him into the inner room and there poured water over his hands, and he told me he would now perform his devotions. His clear eyes and beautiful voice enchanted me during the prayer, and I could have believed him to be a real angel had he not been carrying that book of Persian poems. As I set food before him I asked him about his faith, and he said, “I was born in Istanbul, that most lovely city where the two halves of the world meet. My father was a wealthy merchant and my mother a Greek slave. They hired a wise Arabian tutor to instruct me in the true interpretation of the Koran, and a Persian poet to teach me versification. I listened to the most eminent teachers in the mosque school, but when I was seventeen I received a divine revelation, The forms of prayer and the letters of the Koran became as an empty husk. Nor was I the only one to be thus awakened; many another rich man’s son wearied of the luxurious life we led, and of the empty letter of the law. And so we joined this mendicant brotherhood, to sing and dance in the streets to the music of our bells, until we wearied also of this, and set forth on journeys to foreign lands to observe all the forms and customs with which men fence in their lives. I’ve seen Bagdad, Jerusalem, and Cairo, and have never repented my impulse to exchange a life of luxury for one of danger and hardship. I live in poverty, gaining the necessities of life from the liberality of devout women. Never yet have I had to go hungry.”

His story enchanted me, though I suspected that pious imams and faqihs could hardly approve his doctrine. I asked him further questions, but regarding me with his limpid, angelic eyes he said, “The profoundest element of my belief is complete freedom, admitting neither law nor formula. The dictates of the heart form the only rule for one of my fraternity. All I possess I carry upon me, so that when I see a caravan move off I can join it, should the whim take me. But then, if a strange bird flies across my path, I can turn aside and follow it, and in the wilderness devote myself to solitude and meditation. If in some port the sail of a vessel is hoisted I may take it as a sign and go aboard. And when a white hand appears behind a lattice to throw a flower at my feet, I follow that sign too, without misgivings.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir went on to speak at great length of his singular doctrine, until I came to feel that nothing in the world was so essential to a man as sitting idly and passing the noon hours in lofty conversation. Abu el-Kasim’s arrival took us altogether by surprise, therefore, and he exclaimed aloud in his wrath. But Mustafa ben-Nakir rose and greeted him with the deepest respect, touching forehead and ground with his hand. To my amazement he added, “I’m told that the Deliverer comes from the sea at the next new moon, and will land his forces when he sees the signal fires. Under cover of darkness they will approach the city and march through the open gates at dawn.”

“Bismillah, and so forth!” said Abu el-Kasim. “Why didn’t you say so at once? Two sheds on the hillside near the palace are filled with fuel; when they’re alight and the guards hurry out to extinguish them, a few bold men may force their way into the kasbah. And so we shall kill two birds with one stone. But what is your task, fair youth?”

Mustafa looked at him in bewilderment and replied, “I have brought you the message, and have no more to do than to follow my own will. I leave you therefore to the protection of Allah, and will go to some hospitable house where poetry is understood.”

He prepared to depart, but Abu el-Kasim restrained him, saying, “Don’t leave us, bringer of good tidings. Let us rather converse together confidentially, for you are certainly more than you seem. Advise me, for many difficulties remain.”

“Allah, Allah!” said Mustafa. “All happens in conformity with his will, and he has chosen a most auspicious time for action. The Spanish Emperor’s armies are shut up in Naples, besieged by the superior forces of the French King. The imperial navy is defeated, and Doria, who’s in the French King’s service, has blocked the harbor. And so the Emperor has other things to think of than Algiers.”

I could hardly believe my ears, and cried, “How is this possible? Less than a year ago I was with the Emperor’s army at the sack of Rome, and all Italy was then in his hands.”

Abu el-Kasim silenced me and said, “Let us put our faith in the Deliverer. If he chooses to hasten matters he must have good reason. The new moon is the day after tomorrow, so you had better say your prayers, Michael el-Hakim, and prepare yourself for your task.”

I was astonished at his words, and said, “Have I not carried out your orders to the best of my ability? What more do you require of me, dear master Abu?”

Abu el-Kasim surveyed me coldly.

“At cockcrow the day after tomorrow,” he said, “we must carry Selim ben-Hafs’s head to the Deliverer on a golden platter. It’s only fair that we should divide this work between us. You, therefore, will get his head, and I on my part will provide a most magnificent dish.”

My heart flew into my mouth and despite the heat my teeth chattered. Mustafa ben-Nakir, son of the angel of death, regarded me with sympathy and said, “Drink a little water, Michael el-Hakim. And have no fear, for I’ve been told that a fatwa has been issued for the purpose and so your deed will not be sinful; on the contrary you’ll be performing a most meritorious action in cutting off Selim’s head. If the knife is sharp, and doesn’t jam between the vertebrae, you will have no difficulty.”

To avoid their gaze I withdrew against the wall, but Abu el-Kasim, noting my fear, cursed me and said, “Have you no confidence in me? Patiently, sparing neither time nor trouble, I have woven my net to make all easy for you. In the palace you have your brother Antar, whom you can trust. The chief eunuch I have bribed. Delilah will go with you to the palace, to gaze into the sand, and I’ve already prepared a Cretan potion to be given to Selim instead of opium to send him into a deep sleep.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir touched my shoulder with his shapely hand and said, “Ah, Michael el-Hakim, you please me and my heart urges me to go with you to the kasbah, to encourage you with my advice; above all to see that you carry out your task and at the proper time. Have no fear, for a stone can fall and crush your head as well here as in the Courtyard of Bliss.”

But the whole thing had come upon me as too much of a surprise, and I cried in a fury, “In the Courtyard of Bliss it’ll be a sword and nothing else that will fall on me. Truly I was born under an evil planet. But I’m a slave and have no choice. May the fatwa protect me. I hear and I obey.”

Just then Abu el-Kasim raised his head, listening attentively, and said, “Allah! What can that mean?”

I too heard it. It was the rumble of distant gunfire. We ran all three into the street, and so did the neighbors, their hands uplifted in astonishment. There was no doubt that the noise came from Selim ben- Hafs’s kasbah on the hillside; the wind brought us the sound of shrieks and clashing weapons, and then a cannon roared, echoed by another from the Spanish fortress at the harbor mouth.

“Allah is great,” said Abu el-Kasim, and now it was his turn to weep. “All is lost, but I take refuge in Allah and not in the devil whom he stoned.”

Uproar broke loose in the city; many people dashed along the streets and up the hill; merchants closed their shops and locked their doors. But Mustafa ben-Nakir surveyed his painted nails and said, “Allah is great, and nothing happens contrary to his will. Let us go and see what has happened.”

We hastened up the steep street to the kasbah. An uneasy crowd had already gathered at the place of execution, but nothing else was to be seen save a couple of irate soldiers, who with muskets at the present stood blowing their smoldering matches and angrily ordering the crowd to keep its distance.

Within the kasbah the clash of weapons died away and only the yelling of the soldiers was to be heard; we could not tell if they yelled with delight or wrath. It was rumored among the crowd that some wood carriers and cooks had climbed the walls of the palace and fled; they dashed down the slopes crying out that Selim ben-Hafs was running about the Courtyard of Bliss, stark naked and with sword in hand, slaying everyone he saw. But no one could say whether this was true.

Presently we saw over fifty Spaniards armed with harquebuses marching up from the harbor toward the kasbah. The Spanish consul walked at their head, gesticulating violently. The party came to a halt before the shut gates; their commander inquired loudly of the guard as to the meaning of the shots they had heard, and ordered the gates to be opened.

In the loopholes of the wall there now appeared a number of Spanish and Italian renegades, who jeered at the troops and bade them return to their fortress, as they had no business here. The bystanders, egged on by this defiance, began throwing stones and camel dung at the Spaniards, who threatened to open fire upon them regardless of their agitated consul. The commanding officer ordered his men to train their light fieldpiece on the gate, and threatened to discharge it unless Selim ben-Hafs showed himself without delay.

The gate swung open on grating hinges and the Spaniards started to march in; but their cries of triumph died away at the sight of two cannon trained upon them in the archway, and beyond them a troop of horsemen who had the greatest difficulty in controlling their mounts. The Spanish commander at once ordered his men to retire, and in much milder tones asked to speak to someone in authority who could tell him what had happened in the kasbah. And now in boundless astonishment I beheld Andy standing between the two guns, linstock in hand. He turned to speak to the horsemen with so careless a movement that one of his pieces went off and hurled its ball into the closed Spanish ranks, felling many men to the ground. At this the troopers could no longer rein back their horses, and they charged through the gateway with drawn swords.

Abu el-Kasim seized his head in both hands and cried, “Am I awake or dreaming?”

Nevertheless he played his part by tugging a holy Marabout by the sleeve and bidding him proclaim the fatwa. Then, like the cautious man he was, he ran for shelter behind a ruinous hovel and set fire to it. But I had seen Andy knocked down by the charging horses, and forgetful of danger I hurried to help him. He staggered up, wiped the dust from his face, and asked in amazement, “What has happened? Where have you sprung from, Michael ? Go away at once, for we seem to have a war on our hands. The gun went off accidentally. Fortunately, everything is preordained; but I never meant to start fresh trouble now that we’ve restored order in the kasbah. Go away, now. I’ve caused mischief enough and I don’t want to drag you into it.”

He smelled strongly of wine, and may well have been kicked on the head by one of the horses. At any rate he picked me up and slung me far out of the archway and there was nothing for me to do but seek cover, for the Spaniards were shooting and slashing, the crowds were proclaiming the holy war, and the sheds which Abu el-Kasim had set alight were now blazing to the sky.

I ran this way and that like a distracted hen until Abu el-Kasim and Mustafa ben-Nakir seized my arms, shook me and asked why Selim ben-Hafs’s mamelukes had attacked the Spaniards. I answered frankly that I had not the remotest idea, but besought them to rescue Andy as the Spaniards were certain to hang him.

For the moment, however, the Spaniards seemed indisposed to hang anyone, having trouble enough in regaining the harbor. Many of them lay in their own blood, while down in the city the fleeing remainder were met by an armed mob. From the roofs showered stones, boiling water, and balks of timber. Selim’s mamelukes, however, imbued by now with a healthy respect for the murderous Spanish harquebuses, withdrew again into the kasbah, leaving pursuit to the townsfolk.

Dervishes and other holy men proclaimed through foaming lips that the gates of Paradise stood open to all who fell at the hands of Spaniards.

Abu el-Kasim was not greatly tempted, and Mustafa declared that we had more important things to think of than the houris of Paradise. When the uproar had somewhat subsided we summoned up courage to address the guards at the gate of the kasbah, blessing them in the name of Allah. I begged them to call my brother Andy, and when Abu had thrown some silver among them they did as we asked.

Shortly afterward Andy appeared in the gateway, his hands thrust into his sash with a swaggering air. He surveyed us in surprise, and said, “In the name of Allah! What are you standing out there for? Come and share in our joy!”

He had quite forgotten having seen me just a few moments before. We dared not accept his cordial invitation, and I said, “Andy, you can’t be drunk? Come out to us and we’ll hide you from Selim’s wrath.”

He looked at me blankly.

“Are you raving, Michael? Selim ben-Hafs is dead and I serve his son Mohammed ben-Hafs, blessed be the dear boy’s name.”

Abu el-Kasim uttered a loud cry, and demanded, “How is this possible?”

Andy avoided our eyes, and rubbing the palms of his hands together in embarrassment he replied, “Most people believe that he slipped in the bath and broke his neck. But the sad truth is that it was I who broke it for him. It was quite a mistake, and in self-defense—and perhaps I was a trifle fuddled.”

“Good God in heaven!” I gasped. “Have you slain Selim ben-Hafs, and so ruined all my excellent plans? I begin to wonder why the Creator gave you a head at all, unless it was just to keep your ears apart.”

Andy flared up, being still fiery with wine.

“Why bewail Selim’s fate? Mourn rather for the two other sultans who have reigned here this day, for if the truth must be told, Mohammed is Selim’s third successor.”

Just then four or five soldiers in felt caps ran up to tell Andy that the Aga was calling for him. Andy followed them unsteadily across the courtyard, leaving us under the protection of the sentries. Abu el- Kasim and I sat down in the shade with heavy hearts, but Mustafa ben-Nakir took out his Persian book and began to read poems, glancing complacently from time to time at his painted nails.

Presently we sprang to our feet, for from the Aga’s house came the sudden sound of screams and shots. I thought never to see Andy again, but I should have known him better. He came staggering across the courtyard toward us with a troop of yelling soldiers at his heels. On his head was the Aga’s turban, adorned by a plume held in a jeweled socket. He sighed, “May Allah forgive my many sins. I must certainly be drunk. I was forced to slay the Aga, though I knew that assault upon a superior officer is the worst crime a soldier can commit. But he was plotting little Mohammed’s downfall, and if he had been successful no one would have remained to inherit Selim’s throne; so to avoid confusion I slew the Aga and took his turban. But help me now, Michael, and Abu my dear master, for I need a dromedary.”

I was now convinced that he had lost the last remnant of his wits, until it dawned upon Abu that Andy meant a dragoman, to interpret. But I exclaimed, “In the name of Allah! My brother is not answerable for his actions. Give him the powerful sleeping draught prepared for Selim, and when he has slept himself sober we can talk some sense into him.”

Just then an irate eunuch, attended by soldiers, approached from the inner court bearing the Sultan’s signet ring in his hand. After him came servants dragging a heavy iron chest. The soldiers shouted that they were bringing the Sultan’s money, to be shared out among his loyal troops. If it had been noisy before, the tumult now increased to that of some gigantic dogfight, and with my hands to my face I took refuge behind a buttress of the wall. Soldiers swarmed up on all sides, hacking at one another and trampling the weaker underfoot as they ran, until the eunuch, having vainly brandished the signet ring, threw himself over the chest and commended his soul to Allah’s protection.

Andy now bade us a confused farewell and fought his way through to the chest. He thrust the eunuch aside and commanded all the scribes to keep strict account, so that each and every man might receive his fair share. Strange to say, these savage fellows obeyed him promptly, and paraded in order of rank to await their turn. They felt honored when Andy cuffed them over the head and called them drunken swine. The trembling scribes sat on the ground with the regimental rolls before them; the eunuch threw out his arms despairingly, unlocked the chest, and withdrew. Andy peered into the chest and cried aghast, “Cursed be the name of Selim ben-Hafs, who swindles us even when dead! He perished not a moment too soon.”

The sergeants pressed forward and stared into the chest, and were in their turn astonished, for what they saw there was not enough to provide one gold coin for each man. But they soon recovered from their surprise and said, “We are poor men, but the city is rich. Let us hasten down and take what we can before the Spaniards get their claws into it.”

Andy scratched his head. “Who am I to gainsay you? A hundred heads must be better than one. Yet we should think twice before pillaging a city which the Sultan placed under our protection.”

Abu el-Kasim burst into tears, and said, “All things are preordained, and now is our last chance to save what can be saved. Go, Mustafa ben-Nakir, and reason with these men, while I and my slave Michael hasten home for the gold which was to be the comfort of my declining years. It will amount to four gold pieces for each man, and may enable them to possess their souls in patience until the Deliverer reaches the city.”

Mustafa walked forward to Andy with his usual dignity, while Abu and I hurried out of the gate and down into the city. We saw the last of the Spaniards rowing back to their fortress and a crowd of people standing on the quay, shouting and brandishing their weapons. But we had hardly reached our house when the guns of the fortress began to roar; a roundshot whistled through the air and knocked a hole in the house next to ours. Hastily we dug up the treasure hidden beneath the floor, stowed the money bags in a chest, and loaded this onto a stray donkey that fate had sent to our very door. The firing had terrified it, but reassured by the feel of its weighty burden it plodded readily up the steep street.

When we arrived with our load at the forecourt of the kasbah, we found the soldiers sitting on the ground and listening quietly to Mustafa ben-Nakir’s inspired description of the joys of Paradise. Now and then he read Persian poems to them from his book. Andy was dozing and nodding on the lid of the chest. Mustafa ben-Nakir sent us a reproachful glance as we arrived sweating and shouting with our donkey, disturbing his mellifluous recital. But Andy sprang up and greeted us with blessings.

“We must now consult Amina and her son, whom I’ve made sultan because she swore to me that he is Selim ben-Hafs’s lawful heir. It’s true that this charming lady had often bitterly complained of Selim’s neglect at the material period; but we’ve no other sultans to choose from, now that she has strangled both Selim’s elder sons.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir closed his book of poems and said with a sigh, “Let us seek out the boy, Michael, for the paying of these men will take a long time, and I’ve already prepared them for the Deliverer’s coming.”

Andy ordered the soldiers to obey Abu el-Kasim and the scribes, that no disputes might arise over their pay; then he came with us into the inner courtyard where we saw many corpses, and a number of shot holes in the marble colonnade. But Andy took us straight through the golden Gateway of Bliss, shoving the startled eunuchs aside, then muttered thickly, “Let’s go to the baths, for I fancy I have two unopened wine jars there.”

With the assurance of a sleepwalker he led us along many labyrinthine corridors to the baths, and there kneeling at the brink he fished a jar from the water, broke its seal, and drank greedily. I glanced round the place and beheld Selim ben-Hafs’s body lying on a marble slab—no lovely sight, for it was more swollen and livid than ever. The eunuchs who had been attending to it melted away like shadows at our approach. Mustafa ben-Nakir seated himself cross legged on the bench at the dead man’s feet and said, “We must all die, and each moment of our lives is preordained. It is also the will of Allah that we should sit in this bathhouse and that you should cleanse your conscience so that afterward we may order all things for the best. Speak, therefore, wrestler Antar!”

Andy stared, hiccupped, felt the feathers in his turban and said in hurt tones, “I’m no wrestler, but the Sultan’s Aga—if only I could lay hands on the Sultan. And all that happened was that evil tongues spread slander about me, persuading Selim ben-Hafs that I’d spat in his bed—which is a black lie as I’ve never so much as seen his bed. This morning Selim came stark naked to the bathhouse to sweat away the opium, and a whole crowd of painted boys came too, to wash him. When he saw me he began to screech for his scimitar. His wife Amina, who was wearing no more than was once customary in Paradise, tried to calm him and at least gain time for me to get my breeches on. But at the sight of her the licentious old man was more rabid than ever. Luckily his pretty boys took to their heels when they saw Amina, so I was able to bar the door and consider what was next to be done. She said I had no choice but to bring the Selim to a better frame of mind by force, so I just took him by the neck with the tips of my fingers, and it broke. My dear Amina was as frightened as myself.”

Andy wiped the tears from his eyes with his thumb, but Mustafa ben-Nakir, contemplating his nails, asked, “And then?”

“Then?” Andy rubbed his temples to refresh his memory. “Yes. Well, then the lady Amina said it was the will of Allah, but that for our own good it would be best to say that Selim had slipped on the smooth floor and broken his neck. She then told me that other more important duties awaited her and quickly left the room, promising to send the Aga and the eunuchs as witnesses to what had occurred. The eunuchs laid Selim on the bench, tied his toes together and proclaimed the new sultan, while I took the Aga by the arm and returned with him to the barracks, as it seemed to me I had no business in the house of mourning. I thought him a pleasant fellow, yet in that I must have been mistaken, since so far as I can remember I’ve just killed him.”

He fingered his headdress thoughtfully for a litde, then started and said, “Where was I? Ah, yes. There was trouble over the new sultan, for Selim ben-Hafs had two sons besides Amina’s, and these two were proclaimed sultan simultaneously. The uproar and fighting went on until it was found that Amina had had both the elder boys strangled, and their mother, too, for safety’s sake. When I reproached her for this she asked if I would have preferred to see her and her son strangled; for it seems it is the custom here for the ruler to leave no rival alive. She then hinted broadly that she meant to marry me, so that I might protect her son till he grew up. I’ve nothing whatever against Amina—fine woman—but she’s handier with the noose than I should like any wife of mine to be.”

He began angrily calling for Amina, and was almost too drunk to stand, but Mustafa ben-Nakir had heard enough and rose, saying, “Antar, you’ve done your part, and need rest. There is no sultan but Suleiman, the Sultan of Sultans, and in his name I take possession of this kasbah until the Deliverer comes to reward and punish each man according to his deserts. Slave Michael, take your brother’s sword which he’s not in a condition to wield and strike off Selim’s head, that it may be set on the top of a pillar in a golden dish in the sight of everyone. With him the Hafsid dynasty is at an end; no intriguing women shall rule in this city, and the throne shall remain vacant until the coming of the Deliverer.”

Mustafa spoke in a voice of such authority that I dared not disobey, and grasping Andy’s sword I struck off Selim’s head, disagreeable though the task was. But as I was handing back the weapon a crowd of splendidly dressed eunuchs and black slaves entered the room. In their midst was a boy in a gorgeous kaftan and with far too large a turban on his head. He tripped over the long kaftan as he walked, and held his mother by the hand.

Andy, looking much ashamed, greeted this woman by the name of Amina. When she saw the state he was in she forgot to veil herself, stamped, and screamed, “I ought never to have trusted one of the uncircumcised! Where is the treasure chest? Why don’t the soldiers proclaim my son sultan? And how could you allow my lord’s body to be thus desecrated? The best thing I could do would be to have your throat cut, since you use it only to defile it in defiance of the Prophet’s law.”

“B-blessed be his name,” stammered Andy, swaying and hiccupping, while I stood nonplussed with Selim’s head still in my hand; the infuriated woman snatched off her red slipper and began beating Andy over the head with it, until the Aga’s turban fell off. I hardly know how it would have ended had not Mustafa ben-Nakir stepped forward, jingling the bells at his girdle, and cried, “Veil your face, shameless woman, and take your bastard back to the harem! We have nothing to say to you, and Allah will punish you for thus treating a man who has done you and your son far greater service than you deserve.”

His demeanor was so proud and commanding that the woman recoiled and said, “Who are you, fair youth, and how dare you use that tone to me, the mother of the ruling sultan?”

“I am Mustafa ben-Nakir, son of the angel of death. My task is to see that each is rewarded after his deserts.” Turning to the eunuchs he said, “Take the woman back to the harem, and let this drunken swine sleep it off in some obscure corner. Then fetch a kaftan befitting my rank, so that I may take command of the city until the coming of the Deliverer. And do all this more swiftly than I can find an appropriate gazel, or many of you will find yourselves a head shorter.”

He turned his back on Amina, opened his book, and began reading aloud to himself in his musical voice, so impressively that none dared to question or disturb him, but obeyed his orders. I was greatly relieved to find amid the general confusion at least one man who knew his own mind. But my great natural curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “What manner of man are you, Mustafa ben-Nakir, that all obey you?”

He smiled and bent his head.

“I but follow the impulses of my heart, which tomorrow may lead me out into the wilderness. Perhaps men obey me because I’m freer than others—so free that I care not whether they obey me or not.”

The eunuchs soon returned with splendid clothes, which they helped Mustafa ben-Nakir to put on. They shod him with jeweled slippers and girded a bright sword about his waist; lastly he set upon his well- groomed locks the Aga’s turban. He bade me put Selim ben-Hafs’s head on the golden dish, which the eunuchs brought at his order, and then with his hand to his mouth he yawned slightly and said, “The money will soon have been distributed among the men, and it will be wise to keep them occupied. I fancy nothing will answer the purpose so well as attacking the Spaniards. I must therefore send a Latin- speaking envoy to their fortress to demand compensation for all the damage they’ve done. If they refuse, they must be told that the new sultan will not tolerate their behavior, and must summon Khaireddin to his support. This will give us time to take the guns down to the harbor. But if you have a better plan, Michael, speak freely.”

“Whom do you mean by the sultan?” I objected. “Is little Mohammed ben-Hafs the lawful sultan of Algiers?”

“Ah,” he replied, suppressing another yawn, “we believe in Allah though we haven’t seen him; why should the Spaniards doubt the existence of a sultan whom they’ve never beheld? Speak to them of this invisible sultan, and let that suffice them.”

“Allah, Allah!” I gasped. “You can’t mean to send me?
Spaniards are cruel men, and even if they leave the head on my shoulders they’re likely to remove my nose and ears.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir gently shook his head. “I would gladly go myself, for I like to visit new places and people. But I lack proficiency in Latin, and have also other things to do. You had better stay at the fortress for a time. Now you must not disturb me, for I’m composing a Turkish poem in the Persian manner and must count the syllables.”

To comfort me, he ordered the eunuchs to provide me with an exceedingly fine kaftan, and I had then no choice but to take Selim’s head on the golden charger and follow Mustafa ben-Nakir. The armed Negroes attended us and we paced in solemn procession to the forecourt amid the astonished shouts of the soldiers. Abu el-Kasim dashed up to us and fell on his knees before Mustafa to kiss his slipper. Seeing this, the eunuch also knelt; Mustafa took the Sultan’s signet ring from his hand and fingered it reflectively. Soon the whole court was full of bowing soldiers, who touched forehead and ground with their finger tips.

Mustafa ben-Nakir summoned the sergeants and arranged for some men to guard the gates and others to quench the fires down by the harbor. But the greater number he ordered to drag the cannon to the shore. No vessel was to put out for the fortress without his permission, and anyone approaching from that direction was to be arrested and brought before him.

When he had finished speaking he contemplated his nails and asked whether there was anything further the men wished to know. They murmured among themselves until one took courage and yelled, “Driveling fop! Who are you to give orders?”

This was greeted by expectant laughter, but Mustafa ben-Nakir coolly took a broad scimitar from a Negro’s hand, advanced to the speaker and looked him steadily in the face. The other soldiers made way, and Mustafa with a lightning stroke took off the man’s head before he could lift a finger. Without so much as a glance at the headless body Mustafa returned to his place, handed the sword back to the Negro, and asked if anyone else had anything to say. But the smile had frozen on the lips of the curious, and those standing next the dead man contented themselves with stooping to empty his purse. After this the different detachments marched off in good order to the duties assigned them.

Abu el-Kasim rubbed his hands and said, “We’ve brought the business to a happy conclusion, though at considerable expense. Bitt I have no doubt that the Deliverer will fully reimburse me. We must now decide what to say to him, and how to say it, so that we may not contradict one another when the time comes.”

Mustafa ben-Nakir graciously assented, adding, “And it would be well for your slave Michael to go at once to the fortress and begin negotiations with the Spaniards.” He turned to me. “If you can induce them to leave, so much the better. If not, there’s no harm done.”

Having given orders for two soldiers to attend me, he returned to the Courtyard of Bliss. There was nothing for it but to curse my fate and betake myself to the harbor, where troops were putting out fires, building breastworks, and dragging ordnance into position.

The boatman had not far to take me, but the round keep and massive walls of the fortress seemed to grow ever darker and more menacing as we approached. When we had covered half the distance a shot was fired from a little cannon on the wall, and the ball fell so near my boat that the splash of it drenched me. In my alarm I began to jump up and down waving the skirts of my kaftan and shrieking in my best Latin that I was the Sultan’s messenger. We should certainly have capsized had not the boatman pulled me down again on to my seat. But there was no more firing, and as soon as I was within earshot a monk in a black habit appeared on the jetty and addressed me in Latin, asking in God’s name what had happened, and blessing my arrival, since great anxiety prevailed in the fortress.

We drew alongside the jetty, and I demanded in the name of the Sultan to speak with the garrison commander. While this officer was changing into clothes worthy of the Sultan’s envoy, the monk set wine before me, and would have offered me food had supplies allowed. But these were dwindling now that purchases in the city had become impracticable. So guileless was this good man that he asked me to send my boatman back to fetch meat and greenstuff, for the wounded especially were suffering from the lack of these victuals.

I soon gathered that no one in the fortress had the least idea of what had happened in the town. For ten years the garrison had led a lazy, peaceful life, and it was thought that I had come to beg forgiveness on the Sultan’s behalf. Selim ben-Hafs had always regarded these Spaniards as his only protection against Khaireddin.

This situation only increased my dread of the wrath which my errand might arouse in Captain de Varga, the Spanish commander, and I sought to stiffen my courage with deep draughts of wine.

At last Captain de Varga appeared, in shining armor, attended by the Spanish consul who had fled from the town with the soldiers. The consul had a bump on his forehead and was in a state of intense excitement because his house had been looted. Captain de Varga spoke a little Latin, and was a proud, resolute man; yet in consequence of his inactive life he had put on weight, so that the costly armor pinched him here and there: a circumstance in no way tending to increase his good will toward me.

First he asked what had happened in the city, and why the Sultan’s troops as well as the townspeople had so treacherously attacked his own almost unarmed men and caused such damage to property. At this point the consul, the veins swelling at his temples, shouted that the losses he had sustained far exceeded in value the lives of a few blockheads of soldiers. He demanded full compensation and a new and better house, for which he had already chosen the site.

When at last I had a chance to speak I chose my words with care: “Noble Captain, most excellent Consul, and Reverend Father! Sultan Selim ben-Hafs, blessed be his name, died this morning by accident. He slipped and fell in the baths, breaking his neck. After much discussion among his fatherless sons, the seven-year-old Mohammed has assumed the kaftan and ascended the throne. He has secured his position by distributing money among his loyal troops, and beside him as counselor stands his wise mother Amina. His elder brothers will not oppose him, for in the course of a meal a datestone lodged in each of their throats and choked them. No doubt the hand of fate thus intervened to prevent disputes over the succession.

“But,” I went on with a quaking heart, though still looking Captain de Varga steadfastly in the eye, “while all this was taking place in accordance with the time-honored customs of this city, a horde of pillaging Spaniards arrived, bringing artillery with them. I hold you in no way to blame, noble Captain, for this gross infringement of national rights. The lawless rabble must have left the fortress without your permission, and profited by the ruler’s death to bring disorder to the town. Nevertheless they desecrated the mosque, willfully defiled the holy Marabout’s tomb, and then opened fire on the kasbah, no doubt with the object of seizing the treasury. The Aga was compelled to dispatch a few cavalrymen to drive them forth with as little violence as possible. The Spaniards then overran the city, looting the homes of the faithful and ravishing their good wives. To prevent further disorders, the Sultan has been graciously pleased to sever communications between fortress and city, lest the people, enraged at the pollution of the mosque and tomb, should return evil for evil and attack the fort. The Sultan has also ordered the digging of trenches about the harbor, where he has set up his artillery, as you may see for yourself. But these measures have been adopted solely to protect the fortress and to prevent fresh violence, which might prejudice the friendly relations now happily existing between the Emperor of Spain and the Sultan of Algiers.”

Wine had so loosened my tongue that I was moved by my own eloquence. The consul listened open mouthed, but the Dominican crossed himself repeatedly and said in tones of satisfaction, “It’s only proper that our Christian soldiers should have desecrated the mosque and tomb of the infidels, and I cannot sufficiently praise them. All too often have we seen Moslems trample the Cross underfoot, to enrage us.”

Captain de Varga bade him hold his tongue, and looking at me darkly he said, “You lie. I sent the patrol ashore to discover the reason for the shooting in the kasbah, entirely in the interests of Selim ben- Hafs; but my men fell into the trap prepared, and only their good discipline saved them from utter annihilation. If there has been looting and arson the Moslems themselves have committed it, to cover their own misdeeds.”

I bowed low and said, “I have heard you, noble Captain. All that remains for me to do is to return to the Sultan and inform him that you distort the truth, harden your heart, and do your utmost to cloud the cordial relations that have hitherto existed between the Hafsids and the Emperor, your master.”

“Wait!” said Captain de Varga hastily. Taking a paper from the consul he read it through and went on, “I ask nothing better than to see those happy relations restored, and I’m willing to forget the whole incident in return for indemnification for damaged property and weapons, and for the suffering caused—and also the customary compensation to the families of the fallen. I will accept in all the sum of twenty-eight thousand Spanish gold pieces, half to be paid before the infidels’ sunset prayer, and the other half within three months, as I realize the young Sultan will have other expenses to meet at the beginning of his reign.”

I exclaimed at the very thought of so fabulous a sum, but Captain de Varga raised his hand and continued, “To prevent future misunderstandings I claim the right to build an artillery tower in the harbor, near the mosque. Further, the Sultan shall have a Spaniard for his vizier who must be allowed an armed bodyguard, to be maintained at the expense of the treasury.”

I perceived from these terms that he was a farsighted man who served the Emperor well, and was in all respects a worthy foe. Genuine tears came to my eyes as I knelt before him and begged him to strike off my head rather than send me back to the Sultan with such a message, for the Sultan would certainly not spare me. In so doing I relied on his honor as a nobleman and was not disappointed, for he bade me rise, and said, “Serve me faithfully, persuade the Sultan that I’m in earnest, and I’ll allow no harm to come to you. Tell him that my gunners stand with smoldering matches, that I mean to bombard the city with red-hot shot and that I shall occupy the harbor unless I receive a favorable answer by the hour of morning prayer tomorrow.”

“Allah is great,” said I. “Since you trust me, let me give you some good advice. Don’t threaten too much, or the Sultan—moved by wicked counselors and by the angry populace—may send word to the great Khaireddin, to make a treaty with him, and with his help expel you from your island.”

He laughed. “Renegade, you’re a wily fellow! But even a seven- year-old boy would hardly be so foolish as to saw off the bough he sits on. If he called Khaireddin he’d get more than he bargained for. But I’ll listen to any proposals the Sultan may make when he has heard my terms.”

Notwithstanding his laughter I could see that the very name of Khaireddin had startled him; and so I said, “My lord and protector! You need not send me away, for I bring you the Sultan’s proposals. He demands nothing but fair compensation for the damage done by the Spaniards’ raid, and a thousand gold pieces to buy rose water for the purification of the mosque and the Marabout’s tomb. He is willing even to reconsider the question of compensation, provided you block up all loopholes commanding the city under supervision of his officials. If you reject these proposals the Sultan.will be compelled to assume an intention on your part to interfere in internal affairs, and will then seek help wherever it may be found, to prevent further conspiracy.”

“God save us!” said Captain de Varga, crossing himself. “The terms are harder than I expected, but I know how suspicious these infidels are; because they plot incessantly they fancy others do the same. But I’m a Castilian; I will die rather than surrender—for surrender it would be. My last word is this: let us talk no more of compensation on either side. We’re all human; we’re all liable to err. I’ll even punish the culprits who have desecrated the holy places—if indeed that tale is true. But I cannot afford rose water.”

The consul wailed and the monk deplored the punishment of Christian men who had deserved reward. But Captain de Varga said, “As you sec my aims are conciliatory, and in that respect diametrically opposed to those of my advisers. Further I cannot go. If your lord won’t listen, my guns must speak. Warn him above all against Khaireddin, for the least approach to that godless pirate will be regarded by me as an act of hostility toward my lord the Emperor.”

He handed me a worn leather purse containing ten gold pieces, and I concealed my amazement that the Emperor should allow this loyal young officer to languish in such poverty. I was then honorably escorted to the jetty and at my desire—perhaps also to persuade me that he had plenty of gunpowder—he ordered a salute to be fired as we shoved off. His proud credulity astonished me and caused me to reflect that in all negotiation the honest man is bound to come off worst, while bluff wins every point.

The whole affair had gone better than I could have hoped, and my conscience was clear, for I had given him plainly to understand that he had Khaireddin to reckon with as an adversary. I stepped ashore well satisfied, and observed that the fires in the harbor quarter had been put out and that many of the gun emplacements were completed. These works would have been gravely impeded by bombardment from the fortress; my negotiations had therefore fulfilled their purpose.

On my return to the kasbah I was taken at once to the garden of the Courtyard of Bliss where Mustafa ben-Nakir, reclining at ease on a down pillow beneath a canopy, was reading Persian poems to my master Abu el-Kasim. They mentioned discreetly that Amina was no more, and while I felt no great regret I thought anxiously of Andy’s despair when he woke from his drunken stupor and learned of his beloved’s death. Mustafa divined my thoughts and said, “Allah is swift in judgment. We spoke with the woman and know that she exploited your brother’s simplicity for her own wicked ends. She bribed the eunuchs to leave Selim ben-Hafs alone with your brother in the bathhouse. So, Michael, you needn’t wonder that in righteous indignation at such treachery we arranged for her to be strangled by the eunuchs. We had your brother’s best interests at heart.”

“Yes, indeed,” put in Abu el-Kasim. “But, reflecting that the fruit never falls far from the tree, we had Amina’s son removed at the same time. This makes matters simpler for Khaireddin, who might have been inconvenienced if the boy had lived and gone over to the Spaniards, thus giving them a pretext to interfere in the succession.”

I now perceived that Mustafa ben-Nakir had deliberately sent me out of the way lest I should hinder these shady doings, and I pitied the little boy who had held his mother’s hand and stumbled over the long kaftan, and who had now perished in so sorrowful a manner.

I went back then to Abu el-Kasim’s house. The stars were already glittering in the heavens. Many people were awake upon the housetops, and in the still night I heard the sound of laughter, of stringed instruments, and of dovelike cooings. My heart was gentle as I stepped into the house and called out that I had come home. My dog ran up in the darkness to lick my hand, while Giulia lit the lamp and said, “Is that you, Michael, and alone? Where have you been all this time, and where is Abu? I’ve lain awake wondering if something terrible had happened. There’s been fighting in the town and they say the Deliverer will soon be here. And when I came home I found a great hole in the floor and feared that robbers had broken in.”

Her affectionate anxiety melted my heart still further and I said, “Nothing terrible has happened. Everything indeed is going better than I could have hoped. The Deliverer will come tomorrow at cockcrow, and for you great things—happier things than you can imagine—are in store. So let us make much of one another, for spring is here and we’re alone in the house with none to see us save the dog, who need not make us bashful.”

Giulia clapped her hands for joy and cried, “How I long to see the great Deliverer who rules the seas! Surely he’ll reward me very generously for having so diligently foretold the future on his behalf, and prepared the way for his coming. Perhaps he will allow me to look into the sand alone with him. They say his beard is soft, and chestnut brown. He has certainly all the wives the law allows him, and the mother of his son is a direct descendant of the Prophet. Still, he may incline to me and keep me beside him.”

Her prattle oppressed me, and when I sought to fold her in my arms she quickly veiled her face, stamped on my toes and said, “Are you out of your mind, Michael, to behave thus in the absence of our master? Control yourself. And where did you get that fine kaftan? If you would give it to me I could make a charming jacket out of it.”

She began eagerly feeling the material; in the dim light of the lamp she was so marvelously beautiful that I could not resist her, and reluctantly I let her remove the kaftan, which indeed was the most splendid garment I had ever worn. She crushed it in her bare arms, greedily breathing in its pleasant scent of musk, and cried, “Will you really give it to me, Michael? If so you may kiss me, but in all innocence. I’m a fiery woman and have trouble enough as it is to protect my virtue.”

She allowed me to kiss her cheek and even offered me her lips, but when I would have taken her in my arms she struggled and threatened to scream and stamped on my toes until I had to let her go. As soon as she was free she fled with the kaftan to her alcove, slamming and locking the grille and deriding my prayers and tears. As I stood there half-naked shaking the wrought-iron gate I remembered for the first time that I had left my slave clothes in the kasbah, and so had nothing to put on to greet the Deliverer in the morning.

Tossing sleepless on my bed that night I was yet comforted by the thought that tomorrow Giulia would be my slave and my lawful property. I resolved to exact full requital for her torment of me, and hoped that she was not quite indifferent, since she had shown such anxiety for me and had accepted my kaftan as a present. Comforted I fell asleep and did not wake until the cocks of the city began to crow, and the joyful voice of the muezzin proclaimed that prayer was better than sleep. I looked up and saw to my astonishment that the muezzin was leaping and dancing on the balcony of the minaret; now he was proclaiming the coming of the Deliverer. Rising hastily, I flung on what garments I could find, grasped Giulia’s hand and sped with her up the steep street leading to the palace. The dog followed us with joyous barks, trying to tug at the cloak I had thrown over my shoulders.

The whole populace was on its feet, some running to the palace, but most hastening to the western gates to meet the Deliverer beyond the walls and follow him into the city. They laughed and pointed at me and the dog, but I took no notice, reflecting that he laughs best who laughs last. We had a setback at the palace gates, however, for the guards flatly refused us admission, but fortunately a scared eunuch appeared, who recognized me. Stammering with fear he promised to take me to Abu el-Kasim, and begged me in return to say a good word for him. In my extremity I promised all he asked, and he led me through the Courtyard of Bliss to a small room where Abu el- Kasim, with red-rimmed eyes and clearly in a bad humor, was just finishing his breakfast. A flock of slave women were in attendance, but although they held up one magnificent kaftan after another and besought him to make haste and dress since Mustafa ben-Nakir and his suite had long since ridden to meet the Deliverer, he cut them over the shins with a cane and said, “No! I’m a poor man and dislike strutting in borrowed plumage. Bring my plain spice merchant’s cloak whose smells are familiar to me and whose fleas know me. In that garment I have served the Deliverer and in that garment I will meet him, that with his own eyes he may behold my poverty.”

The slaves wrung their hands and with lamentations brought out the ragged old cloak. Abu smelt it joyfully, combed out hair and beard with his fingers and allowed the terrified eunuch to help him on with the dreadful garment. Then only did he turn his eyes to me and say angrily, “Where in Allah’s name have you been, Michael? I hope you haven’t lost the golden dish and the Sultan’s head? We should have been in the mosque long ago, to meet the Deliverer.”

I had in fact not the remotest idea what had become of these things, and I hastened off on a frantic search through the various courtyards. Luckily the friendly eunuch came to my help; he had taken care of both head and dish and set them on the top of a pillar. No harm was done, therefore, except that Selim’s head had begun to take on a most hideous appearance, and that the dish seemed much smaller than before.

With these objects under my arm I returned to Abu el-Kasim, and was distressed to behold Giulia embracing and kissing and coaxing that remarkably unhandsome man. He wept, but was prevailed upon at last to send the slave women to the store chamber of the harem, and they returned with such a wealth of veils and slippers that Giulia was hard put to it to decide what pleased her best.

To me Abu el-Kasim gave Mustafa ben-Nakir’s mendicant dress, which after some hesitation I put on. Being used to garments reaching to the ground, I had the uneasy sensation of nakedness from the waist down. But the tunic was of the finest and softest stuff, and with every step I took the bells rang so sweetly that Giulia surveyed me wide eyed and assured me that I need not be ashamed of my bare knees and shapely calves. She sent for the necessary ointments and rapidly painted my hands and feet orange color, and then, since no headdress was worn with this costume, she oiled my hair with fine oils and applied blue beneath my eyes so that I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the mirror.

Before we set forth for the mosque, Abu wanted to see how Andy was faring. He took me to the cellars of the palace, moved aside an iron trap door and pointed to Andy, who lay sprawled on the hard stone floor below us, moaning in his sleep. His narrow cell was lit by a small window with bars across it as thick as my wrist. He was quite naked, and beside him stood a water jar, which was already empty. The compassionate Abu ordered the guards to refill it, and to lower a great quantity of bread. I pitied Andy deeply, but saw that he must be kept in that bear pit until he had quite recovered, or he would seek to combat the effects of his drinking bout with a fresh one, and his last state would be worse than the first. Lest he should feel lonely when he woke, I left my dog with him in his cell.

When we had left the evil-smelling cellars and our eyes had become accustomed to the sunlight on the high terrace, we saw the Deliverer just riding through the western gate of the city, followed by a large troop of cavalry. Weapons flashed in the sun, and the vast crowds, which had come to meet him, waved palm branches and shouted and cheered until their voices came to our ears like the boom of a distant sea. Through the quivering heat we could see also a number of vessels riding at anchor in the farther bay. We counted nearly twenty of them, all bedecked with flags and pennants.

We hastened down into the city, and with difficulty elbowed our way into the packed mosque. We could never have managed it if I had not jingled my bells to make the people believe I was a holy man. They would have made way for us readily enough if I had displayed what I carried under my arm, but I had covered the golden dish with a cloth, for who could tell whether there might not lurk among them some adherent of Selim ben-Hafs?

Within the mosque an indescribable din prevailed, which reached its climax when with drawn swords Khaireddin’s janissaries and renegades appeared in the doorway and began to clear a path for their lord. Khaireddin himself advanced among his warriors, sending greetings to right and left, and waving his hand. Before him marched a number of standard bearers, and immediately after him the white- bearded Faqih and the eldest sons of the merchants who had already returned, it seemed, from their important pilgrimage. Mustafa ben- Nakir was also of the suite, clad in a splendid kaftan and the Aga’s turban; from time to time he surveyed his well-kept nails.

I was disappointed at my first sight of Khaireddin, of whom I had heard so much. He was a man of little majesty, being indeed short and rather fat. As a mark of dignity he wore a tall felt cap bound with a turban of white muslin. Strangely enough the turban was not even clean, though it was adorned in front by a crescent of sparkling stones. He went empty handed and had not even a dagger in his girdle. His beard was dyed and there was a smile on his round, catlike face as he walked with short steps across the floor.

When he reached the reader’s place he made a sign to show that he was going to pray. He uncovered his head, rolled up his sleeves, and in the sight of everyone performed the prescribed ablutions. The Faqih poured water over his hands and the eldest sons of the merchants dried his hands, head, and feet. He then replaced the turban on his head, recited the prayers and three suras of the Koran, while the assembled people listened attentively. The Faqih then sat in the reader’s place and intoned certain verses. He read very beautifully; without difficulty he found passages appropriate to the coming of the Deliverer, and others enjoining mercy, justice, and liberality.

When the Faqih had read for so long that the people began to grow restless, he at last resigned his place to Khaireddin, who mounted the high seat, crossed his legs under him, and with a slight stammer began to expound the sacred texts in so easy and entertaining a manner that now and then laughter could be heard among his audience. At last he raised his hand gently and said, “My dear children, I have come back to you, impelled by an auspicious dream, and I will never abandon you again. Henceforth I will protect you as a good father should, and you shall endure no more wrongs, for in this city justice shall ever prevail.”

Emotion threatened to stifle his voice, but wiping tears from his beard he went on, “I would not sadden your hearts by recalling unpleasantness, yet in the name of truth I must admit that it was with a sentiment of profound disgust that I left this place, after my brother Baba Aroush had fallen in the unhappy war with the Sultan of Tel- mesan. Honesty compels me to add that I was very greatly cast down by the ingratitude and deceit with which the inhabitants rewarded my efforts to defend them against the unbelievers. A rancorous man in my position might requite evil with evil. But I seek only justice, and have often repaid a wrong with a good action, as I do today in returning to protect you from the enemy. But I note that no one answers me, and not the meanest present has been brought before me in token of your good intentions. Indeed, I fear that I shall again be overcome by repugnance for this town, and find it desirable to depart more swiftly than I came.”

The people in alarm began loudly beseeching him not to abandon them to the Spaniards’ wrath; many fell upon their knees, strong men wept, and old men tore their beards to demonstrate their loyalty. Gifts proportionate to the means and standing of the givers were hurriedly brought forward, each man being careful to mention his name and his offering, that both might be recorded in the books. And now before the raised seat of the reader there rose a mighty mound of bales, chests, gold and silver vessels, jewels, baskets of fruit, and a quantity of money; even the poorest made shift to offer at least one silver coin. But Khaireddin surveyed the growing heap without enthusiasm; indeed his face darkened, and at last he raised his hand and said, “I knew that the town of Algiers was poor, but I could not have believed it to be as poor as this. In all the heap before me I cannot see one present of the sort that would appeal to me. Not that I made such a present a condition for my return; nevertheless I believed that you would so far have considered my wishes as to remember it.”

The congregation were crestfallen indeed at his words, but Abu el-Kasim pinched my arm and together we pushed our way forward to Khaireddin’s throne. Abu el-Kasim addressed him, saying, “Poor though I am, I have awaited your coming with eager impatience, O lord of the sea! See, I bring you a good gift which I am persuaded will find favor in your eyes. Nor do I doubt that you will reward me in a fashion worthy of yourself.”

The people were accustomed to look upon Abu as a clown; they wondered what this present prank of his might be, and put their hands to their mouths to suppress the burst of laughter they had in readiness. But the smile froze on their lips when, at a sign from Abu, I uncovered the golden dish and he seized Selim’s swollen head by the hair, holding it up for Khaireddin and all the rest to see.

Now Selim ben-Hafs had in his time sorely injured Khaireddin, so it was no wonder that he laughed arrogantly at the sight of his enemy’s head, and clapping his hands together cried, “You’ve divined my innermost thoughts, good merchant, and your gift outweighs all the injuries done me in this city, which henceforth shall be my capital. Tell me your name.”

Abu, grimacing in his excitement, gave his name, and Khaireddin contemplated his enemy’s head with rapture. With a sweeping gesture he cried, “Take all this rubbish, Abu el-Kasim my loyal servant, and share as much of it with your slave as you think fit. The givers of these things shall carry them to your house and so appreciate the regard I have for you.”

For once Abu el-Kasim stood speechless amid the awed murmur of the throng. Then Khaireddin awoke from his rapture and, with a sideways glance at the great heap, added quickly, “Naturally a tenth must be paid into my treasury, as in the case of prizes captured at sea. And further—”

As by magic Abu el-Kasim regained his speech and sought to drown further retractions by loud cries and the invocation of coundess blessings upon the head of Khaireddin, wherein I seconded him with all my might. The ruler began to relent, and stroked his dyed beard. But the Faqih hastily interposed, saying, “Allah blesses the open- handed, and you, Abu el-Kasim, shall carry nothing away until the mosque has received its fifth of the gold and silver and its tenth of all other wares. That the valuation may be fair and impartial, I call upon the foremost merchants of the city to effect it.”

Abu’s jaw dropped. Looking up reproachfully at Khaireddin he said, “Alas, why did you act with such ostentation, O lord of the sea? You might as easily have given me these things when we were alone together, without witnesses. I could then have decided for myself, according to my own conscience, what my obligations were.”

Delight in the misfortunes of others is of all delights the keenest, and Abu el-Kasim’s despairing face aroused exultation in the hearts of everyone. He hurled himself madly upon the merchandise and behaved in so eccentric a fashion that not even the great Khaireddin could keep a straight face.

But at length he wearied of it all, and mindful of his dignity he rose and left the mosque attended by his officers, amid the benedictions of the crowd. Outside he distributed liberal alms. Moved by the general rejoicing, the Turkish janissaries began firing salvos with their muskets, while down in the harbor the artillerymen joined in and discharged their cannon until we were deafened, and market place and mosque were enveloped in smoke. Captain de Varga, the Spanish commander, could hardly be blamed for answering the fire, since the guns in the harbor were trained on the fortress and their shot tore holes in the wall of the keep.

I fancied the noise was all salutes and salvos until something crashed into the wall of the mosque. I ran out in a fright, to see the great minaret toppling in a cloud of lime dust. Nothing more fortunate for Khaireddin’s purpose could have occurred, for the crowds, filled with righteous indignation, accused the Spaniards with shrieks of deliberately firing upon the mosque.

Captain de Varga himself must have been appalled at what he had done, for the firing soon ceased. But Khaireddin proclaimed in a voice of thunder that this sacrilege should be the last crime committed by Christians in Algiers. For Abu el-Kasim the incident was a gift from heaven, since the merchants were in a hurry to get home, and the Faqih suddenly remembered that it was his hour for solitary meditation. The valuation of the goods was therefore very summarily performed and much to the advantage of Abu el-Kasim, who professed willingness to remain in the mosque all day for the sake of a fair and equitable assessment.

Our house in the street of the spice merchants stood at a relatively sheltered corner, and Abu el-Kasim hastened, not without difficulty, to convey his new possessions home. With the help of a few courageous donkey drivers we at last had everything secured behind bolts and bars.

I began to feel great anxiety about my brother Andy, and wanted to visit the palace and help him in any way I could. At first Abu refused on any account to let me go, saying that the deaf-mute could not be left to guard the treasure alone. But when I mocked him for becoming a slave to his own greed, instead of trusting to Allah as the best watchman, he cursed and swore indeed. Yet he sought out the deaf-mute and, thrusting a cudgel into his hand, ordered him in violent pantomime to stay behind the door and club anyone on the head who tried to enter.

Abu el-Kasim and I then hastened to the palace, and as we went Abu observed, “Great men have short memories. We must put in a word for your brother and try to get in touch with Sinan the Jew. And if we achieve nothing else, we shall at least be invited to a meal at the palace.”

We encountered many merchants and sheiks belonging to the most distinguished families in the city. They were coming away from an audience with Khaireddin, and gesticulated excitedly as they discussed what had been said.

On our arrival we were warmly welcomed by Khaireddin, who sat beneath a canopy on Selim’s red velvet cushion, surrounded by his most eminent officers, of whom I already knew Sinan the Jew and proud Captain Torgut. A map of Algiers harbor lay outspread at Khaireddin’s feet. Pointing to the Spanish fortress and the sandbanks near it he said, “Allah is with us, and I could not have chosen a better moment for the capture of that fortress. It lacks both provisions and powder, the guns are worn, and I have some of my own men there who will do as much damage as they can, and try to convince the Spaniards of the uselessness of resistance. We must waste no time over this little enterprise, for our anchorage is exposed, and the spring victualing flotilla from Cartagena may already have sailed with necessities for the garrison. You shall have eight days in which to effect the capture.”

Khaireddin explained to each officer what he had to do, and gave orders for the ships to weigh anchor next morning and bombard the fortress from the sea. The shore battery he put under Torgut’s command, since this proud man had risen to his present position from the rank of ordinary gunner. He then commended his officers to Allah’s protection and dismissed them, keeping only Sinan at his side. Mustafa ben-Nakir also remained, being too deeply engrossed in the scansion of a new Persian poem to notice that the others had withdrawn. But now he raised his eyes and stared at me with the veiled look of a sleepwalker, then rose and despite my protests undressed me and gave me in exchange the fine kaftan and the Aga’s turban that he had been wearing. He resumed his own mendicant dress, and the music of its little bells so greatly inspired him that he was soon deep in composition once more.

I put on the kaftan, but having set the turban upon my head also I quickly removed it and said, “I’m but a slave and have certainly no right to the Aga’s turban. By your favor, O lord of the sea, I lay it at your feet. Bestow it upon some worthier man whom your warriors will obey.”

Though it was a bitter thing to renounce the plumed and jeweled turban, I thought of the forthcoming siege, and the flaunting of so noticeable and perilous a headdress tempted me not at all. The folds of the kaftan, however, felt unusually thick. As if fate would reward me for my unselfishness, I found two pockets, in each of which was a heavy purse. But I would not expose anyone to temptation by taking them out to examine them. To cap this, Mustafa ben-Nakir contemptuously threw at me my own purse, which I had left in the girdle pocket of his dress, for men of his sect despise money beyond everything.

While I was putting on the kaftan, Sinan the Jew suddenly spoke. “What do I seep Is this not the angel Michael, my slave, whom I lent to Abu el-Kasim, to help him prepare the way for the Deliverer?”

He rose and embraced me warmly, taking care at the same time to feel the stuff of my kaftan; for it was indeed a superb garment, embroidered all over with gold and having gold buttons set with green stones. Abu el-Kasim was pale with envy, but Sinan the Jew turned to Khaireddin and said, “Believe me, Khaireddin, this man who has chosen the right path brings good fortune with him, for he has a singular gift for creeping in and out through the smallest keyhole, and whatever happens to him he falls on his feet, like a cat. With all this he bears ill will to no one, and would have everyone be happy in his own fashion.”

Abu el-Kasim broke in hotly, “Don’t listen to him, lord of the sea! Michael is the laziest, greediest, most ungrateful man on earth. If he had any sense of what is fitting he would change kaftans with me, for what is he but my slave?”

Khaireddin replied, “That kaftan becomes him better than it would you, and he needs such a one, so I’m told, to win the heart of a certain vain woman. Your secrets I have already learned from Mustafa ben- Nakir here, when he appeared before me as the ear and eye of the High Porte. This, of course, I ought not to have mentioned, and I can’t think how it came to slip over my tongue.”

Abu el-Kasim was thrown into a great fright by this, and made haste to kiss the ground before Mustafa ben-Nakir, and would have kissed his feet too, if the poet had not kicked him. But I said, “Lord, may your slave address you? While laughter wrinkles are yet radiant about your eyes, let me put in a word for my brother, lying now in fear of death in the dungeon beneath our feet. Let him be fetched and let me speak on his behalf, for he’s a foolish, simple man, incapable of arranging words in a seemly manner.”

Khaireddin replied, “Not so, let us go ourselves to fetch the notable Antar, of whose strength I have heard such tales. But don’t betray me. Let me stand by unknown, and hear what he says when he wakes.”

We left Mustafa ben-Nakir to finish his poem and descended to the cellar floor—Khaireddin, Sinan, Abu el-Kasim, and myself. The jailer shoved aside the iron trap door, and each of us in turn was lowered into the cell, where my dog Rael at once greeted me with joyful barks. Andy woke and sat up, holding his head in both hands and staring at us bleary eyed. The water jar was empty and all the bread eaten, and he had indescribably befouled the floor all about him. After glaring at us for some time he asked in a feeble voice, “What’s happened? Where am I? Why weren’t you with me, Michael, in the hour of my degradation? Only this brute beast witnessed my awakening, and licked my aching head in pity.”

He put his hand to his stomach and groaned.

“You may remember,” I said hesitantly, “that Sultan Selim ben- Hafs is dead?”

Andy looked blank. Then a spark of intelligence appeared in his round eyes. He looked wildly about and whispered, “I remember it very well. But didn’t we agree that it was an accident? Don’t tell me the truth has been discovered? Where is the wise Amina? She will explain everything. How could she let them throw me into this cess pit and leave me here stripped and beaten, after all I did for her and the other women?”

“Andy,” I said gently, “bear this like a man. I have to tell you that by the will of Allah Amina and her son are dead.”

Andy pressed himself against the stone wall, wide-eyed with horror, and exclaimed, “You can’t mean that in my drunkenness I was so rough as to kill her? Never, never have I offered violence to any woman.” He rocked to and fro with his head in his hands and mourned. “It can’t be true, unless the devil bewitched me—for certainly he dwells in the sealed wine jars of this country.”

I felt pity for Andy in his anguish, and did my best to console him.

“You never laid a finger on her. She perished otherwise, for her evil-doing, and it will be best to speak no more about it. One thing only you must know. She was a designing woman who deliberately entangled you, and it was she, remember, who tempted you to drink wine and forget your pious resolutions.”

He gave a deep sigh of relief, squeezed a few tears from his swollen eyes, and said, “So I’m left a widower. Poor creature! She was in the prime of life, a faithful wife and a fond mother. And we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, though truth to tell she was not altogether free from evil desires. Well, I hope you and all good people may feel for me in my sorrow, and not judge me overstrictly, even though I’ve sought to drown my troubles in wine and so committed a great deal of foolishness.”

He regarded us hopefully, but Abu el-Kasim said with a sigh, “Alas, Antar my slave, you slew the Sultan’s Aga and stole his turban. If you’ve anything to say in your defense, say it now. Otherwise you must be taken before the cadi, and then hanged, quartered, burned, and thrown to the dogs.”

Andy flung out his hand and said, “Do with me as you will. I’ve deserved all these penalties, and should feel the better for losing this aching head. Though indeed I deserve punishment only for the first draught of wine; everything else followed of itself. I killed the Aga as a result of a brawl—a common thing among soldiers—but it was no punishable offense, for we were not then at war, and the articles of war had not been read. I know more about these things than you. Therefore I shall appear before my judge with a clear conscience, and yours will be the shame and not mine if I am sentenced to flogging for such a trifle.”

Andy regarded us with an air of great assurance, and seemed persuaded of the justice of his cause. When I had translated his words—for he had spoken in Finnish—Khaireddin could no longer contain himself. Bursting into a shout of laughter he went up and clapped Andy on the shoulder, saying, “You’re a man after my own heart, and because of your astute defense I forgive you your crime.”

Andy shook off Khaireddin’s hand angrily and asked me, “Who’s this fellow and what’s he doing here? I’ve had enough of their unseemly pawings.”

Aghast at his indiscretion I told him who his visitor was. But Khaireddin took it in good part and said, “I will give you new clothes and a saber. You shall serve me, and I fancy you’ll be useful in many ways.”

But Andy answered bitterly, “I’ve been led by the nose long enough, and care nothing for your saber. I shall go out into the wilderness and end my days as a holy hermit. Indeed, if you give me clean clothes and a crust or two to gnaw, you may leave me alone in this hole with a good conscience.”

Nevertheless we persuaded him to climb up out of his cell, and while he washed himself in preparation for his long-neglected prayers, Khaireddin sent him fine clothes and so splendid a scimitar that Andy could not resist testing its edge on his nail, after which he buckled it round him with a contented sigh. I then told him all that had happened during his absence, and ended, “You can see for yourself that for once mercy has prevailed over justice. Khaireddin might well have been angry with you for upsetting all the plans that Abu el-Kasim and I had laid with such care during the winter.”

But Andy retorted, “If my head didn’t ache so damnably I might begin to suspect that I’ve been basely swindled. By marrying Amina I should have become the most powerful man in Algiers. With luck I might have had a son by her, who would have been sultan here. But you in your blue-eyed innocence have let Khaireddin reap where I have sown, and I’m not at all surprised that he should seek to appease me with a fine saber and an expensive kaftan.”

But now I longed more than ever for my own reward, and after we had eaten I asked Abu where Giulia might be. He exchanged glances with Sinan the Jew and sighed, “Allah forgive me if I’ve done wrong, but the great Khaireddin wanted her to gaze into the sand for him, and so I left them alone together. But that was some time ago, and I begin to wonder what they can be doing.”

These words filled me with foreboding, and with a black look at Abu el-Kasim I said, “If anything has happened to Giulia I shall strangle you with my own hands, and I think no one will blame me.”

Ignoring the protesting eunuchs we passed through the golden door into the harem, and there we found Khaireddin seated on a mat with a dish of sand before him and beside him, gazing into it, was Giulia. Khaireddin’s eyes bulged in amazement, and on seeing us he exclaimed, “This Christian woman has seen the strangest things in the sand. If I told you all, you’d think I was out of my mind; but so much I can say: she beheld the waves of the sea sofdy kissing my tomb in the city of the great Sultan, on the shores of the Bosphorus. And she vowed that this tomb shall be revered and honored by all, so long as the name of Ottoman survives on earth.”

While he was speaking Giulia forgot her feminine modesty and pressed herself against him. But the lord of the sea surveyed her with indifference, and I flared up and said, “Giulia, Giulia! Remember your behavior. And know that from now on you belong to me, as my slave. But if you do your best to please me I may one day take you for my wife.”

I could contain myself no longer, but caught her hands and drew her eagerly toward me to embrace and kiss her to my heart’s content. But she struggled like a wildcat until I was forced to release her. Her eyes glittered with fury as she burst out, “Take away this lunatic slave and send him to the mosque hospital, to be thrown in chains and have the madness whipped out of him. Sinan the Jew gave me to the Deliverer, to gaze into the sand for him; I will gladly obey him in everything, as soon as he has grown used to my unfortunate eyes.”

So intense was her rage that the smile faded from Sinan’s face and he mumbled hesitantly, “Allah forgive me, but Michael el-Hakim is right. I swore by the Koran and by my beard that you should be his slave, and I can’t break such an oath. You’re now his slave, beautiful Delilah, and are bound to obey him in everything. This I declare here and now in the presence of the necessary witnesses.”

He repeated the first sura rapidly, to clinch the matter, but when he would have laid Giulia’s hand in mine she recoiled, thrust her hands behind her, and gasped in a stifled voice, “Never! Tell me, you blackguards who bargain away a woman’s honor behind her back, why is this miserable slave allowed to insult me? Is this the love you swore you felt for me, Abu el-Kasim, with such sighs and lamentations?”

Sinan the Jew and Abu el-Kasim raised their hands with one accord and pointed at me, saying, “No, no, we’re innocent! It was Michael who plagued and tormented us into it. And anyhow we were sure that he would fall into the hands of Selim ben-Hafs, and perish long before the Deliverer arrived in the city.”

Giulia stared at me incredulously. She came forward and brought her face close to mine and said, pale with fury, “Is this true, Michael ? Then I’ll give you a foretaste of the joys awaiting you!”

With that she dealt me a resounding box on the ear, which deafened me and brought tears to my eyes. Then she broke into violent weeping, and sobbed, “I can never forgive you for this, Michael. You’re like a vicious boy who bites his mother’s hand. And what service did you render the Deliverer that can merit reward? I, by foretelling the future to the women of the harem, have done more than anyone. Indeed it was I and no one else who by this means slew Selim ben-Hafs as certainly as if I had done it with my own hands.”

Thinking that rage had bereft Giulia of reason, I strove to calm her, and begged the others to pay no attention to what she said. But she stamped her foot. Blue and yellow lightnings flashed from her eyes, and she screamed, “I chose Amina for the work, because she was the most wanton of all in the harem, and the most ambitious. It was at her orders that the black wrestler came down to the market place to challenge Antar. Everything went as planned and Antar won the match, as I had foretold in my sand gazing. It was through my soothsaying alone that he was enrolled in the palace guard. Then I saw in the sand that Amina’s son would be sultan, as indeed it was, though for a very short time. If there’s to be a reward for removing Selim ben-Hafs, I am indeed the only one who can fairly claim it.”

I listened to her open mouthed, marveling at the skill with which she had played the part of an innocent, while in reality fully aware of the secret plot. She stormed and raved, Abu exclaimed, Andy expostulated, and she sank her teeth in his hand until at length he quelled her with a sharp slap on the hinder parts. By this time Khaireddin was weary of the scene, and ordered me to remove my property and trouble him no longer.

“You’ve made your bed,” he said. “Now lie on it. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

There was nothing for it but to go. Hesitantly I held out my hand to Giulia and said, “Don’t you understand that I love you, Giulia? It was to win you that I toiled and strove so long, and risked my life.”

But Giulia’s shoulders were like lead beneath my hand, and she answered sourly, “Don’t touch me, Michael, or I won’t answer for the consequences. You’ve wounded me deeply.”

We set off for home, the dog slinking behind us with his nose to the ground. When we came to the door of our house I put the key into the lock, but it jammed, and struggle as I would I could not turn it. At last in a rage I forced the door and tumbled inside. The dog yelped with fright and a cudgel came down on my head with such violence that all went black and I knew no more until next morning. Giulia and the deaf-mute carried me to bed; it was this blockhead, faithful to his charge, who had dealt the blow. He had felt me tugging and rattling at the door, and in the darkness mistook me for a thief.

Such was my bridal night, and I have no more to say of it. I will therefore begin a new book to tell of how I captured the Spanish fortress, and how a notion of Mustafa ben-Nakir’s led to my entering the service of the ruler of all the faithful—the great Sultan in Constantinople.

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