Then Saïd, with hot shame and confusion at his heart, lifted up his voice and laughed—a laugh even louder and more empty than that of the Franks.
“It was a famous trick,” he cried. “Oh, that rascal! He is a very devil for cunning! Listen, O Khawajât, and thou also, O my lord the Bek! I am a man of consequence in my own city, but it is far from here. I set out to come hither in order to get the inheritance of my brother, who is dead. In the way I passed by the door of a Frank—a priest he was, dressed all in black. He called to me to enter and rest awhile, and, as it was the heat of the day, I got down off my horse and sat with him. While we awaited the coffee, he brought this garment to show me, swearing by all his prophets, whom he counts as gods, that it was a robe of price such as kings wear in his country. He wished to sell it, and as he had taken a fancy to me—ah, the devil!—he would let me have it for five hundred piastres. It was equal to giving it, he said, but he loved me like a brother and so would let me have it for that money. So I, desiring the robe greatly (for I believed his words, that it was a fine rarity), and having much money with me, paid the price at once, and put on the garment, which in truth is pleasant to wear. Ah, the joker! he befooled me perfectly.”
The Turk laughed long and merrily. He was at pains to translate the story for the benefit of his Frankish friends. One of these, whose face had somewhat the colour of a pomegranate flower, insisted on grasping Saïd’s hand and shaking it, which is a manner of friendly greeting with the Franks. He laughed heartily with his mouth wide open, staring into Saïd’s face with stupid blue eyes. His companion, who kept his face—pink and white, like a painted woman’s—carefully shaded by a very broad-brimmed hat, held a little aloof, but laughed heartily too. The moustache of this latter was yellow like straw.
Saïd submitted to the indignity of having his hand squeezed to a jelly and his arm all but wrenched from its socket with as good a grace as might be, consoling himself with the thought that the Franks are all possessed with devils. He was quite in the dark as to the meaning of it all till the officer spoke to enlighten him.
“It is because thou art a merry fellow, O my uncle. My friend here loves thee because thou smilest in misfortune and art not angry that a trick has been played with thee.”
At that Saïd grinned broadly and pressed the Frank’s hand with all his might, working it up and down until he cried laughingly, “Enough! enough!” that being one of the few words of Arabic which he knew.
“Why art thou here, O my uncle?” asked the Turk. “Hast come to buy a horse? Yonder is a fine one, which the old Durzi is holding.”
“No, my lord the Bek, I am come to sell a horse,” returned Saïd, with dignity. “My servant leads him yonder in the shade of the tree. It is a good horse, not so much for fantasy as for travelling. There is not his equal for a long journey. I myself have ridden him lately for five days; that is why he looks a little thin. It grieves me to have to sell him.”
The Turk imparted the substance of what was said to his friends. There followed a short conversation between the three, of which Saïd understood nothing. Then the officer said—
“My friend the khawaja has need of a stout horse to carry him on a journey he is about to make into the desert. With thy leave he would like to examine this beast of thine.”
It was a wonderful stroke of luck for Saïd, and he saw a special providence in it. He ceased not from praising Allah until the day was far spent and shadows covered all the streets. In a word, the scarlet-faced idiot bought the horse and paid for it, there in the open field, out of a purse that he carried, no less than fourteen English pounds. The bystanders sneered openly at the deed of folly. The Turk strove to reason with his friend, but the Frank was bent on paying the price first asked, which he seemed to think a low one, though Saïd, if beaten down to it, would have taken the half. The old Druze, who had just refused ten pounds Turk for the splendid animal he held, spoke loudly in envy of Saïd’s good fortune. Selìm went mad with delight. To crown all, the Frank, having paid the treasure into Saïd’s hand, must grasp that hand again, and shake it almost to the time-limit of the fisherman’s patience, for the bystanders were laughing in their beards.
Then, with a light heart, Saïd bade Selìm lead the way to some coffeehouse of good repute.
XIII
From shortly after noon to the eleventh hour Saïd sat with his attendant in a tavern, debating what was next to be done, praising Allah, and dozing between whiles over a narghileh. The place was cool and dark, like a large cellar. What light there was stole upon the gloom through the low doorway from a shadowy alley without. It wakened a bluish sheen on the rim of a great copper
