“On the morrow he arose and drove his beast to the city, and there sold her, together with the packsaddle and the halter, a bag of corn and a vessel of oil which happened to be with him in the house. Then he went straight to the merchant’s, and, having assured himself that the collar was there, he inquired the price. At first the trader laughed and eyed him askance, for the poorness of his clothes. But afterwards, finding that he had money with him, he deigned to name a sum. It was more than the man could pay; yet, being an astute fellow and good at a bargain, he at length obtained the collar.
“With it clasped round his neck he strutted about the streets, deeming himself an Emìr. It was not for a long while he became aware that men were pointing after him and laughing in their beards. Then shame came upon him, and he wished to hide the ornament; but he could not, it was so big and his robe so scanty and ragged. He tried to unclasp it, but he knew not the trick of it, the merchant having made it fast for him. He sped to the shop, wishing to give it back and receive his money again; but the merchant drove him away with curses and threatening words. He dared not have recourse to any worker in metal lest the price of his release should be more than he could afford, and, in default of payment, the collar should be taken from him.
“By the time he had eaten and drunk and had paid his lodging for one night, he had no money left. On the third day he was driven to beg in the gate of the city. But those who passed in and out mocked him, thinking he was a joker or one that begged for a wager or a vow. And this became a proverb in the land: The beggar with the collar of gold craves a mite of thee, O muleteer.
“Full of distress he prayed Allah, if it might be, to take away that plague from him and give him back his camel. Soon he prayed more earnestly that Allah would cut off his life. His prayer was heard; for certain wicked men of the city had cast greedy eyes upon the collar. They lay in wait for him in a lonely place, and there slew him. But being powerless to unclasp the collar, they cut off his head and drew it from the neck still fastened.
“Now, O my brother, the drift of my story is clear and needs no explaining. I think it no wise thing to sell all thy stock-in-trade that thou mayst buy a fine palace. Remember that he who bartered the camel for the collar of gold had shame and misery and a ghastly death into the bargain.”
During the tale Saïd’s face had become overcast. As Selìm ceased speaking his displeasure broke out. Frowning, and with a peevish gesture—
“Thou speakest folly and thy words are far from the purpose!” he cried. “What have I got to do with thy poor man and his camel? Behold, I am rich, as thou well knowest. Even when I shall have paid the price of the house there will yet be money left in my hand wherewith to trade anew. Because I speak of selling this shop and these carpets, thou art afraid of thy own meat and drink, lest thy livelihood be taken from thee. Thou makest believe to rede me a friendly counsel, whereas thy mind is wholly set upon thy private advantage. I had thought to make thee a handsome present—enough to keep thee in comfort and honour all thy days; but now, since thou choosest to cross me, I know not what I shall do.”
Stung by the accusation of self-seeking, Selìm bounded to his feet.
“Now, Allah pardon thee, O Saïd,” he exclaimed in a low voice broken by emotion. “Surely thou art possessed with a devil to think this evil of me! In all the years that I have served thee in this place, hast thou ever found me wanting in my duty? Have I not ever loved thee as a dear brother, while serving thee faithfully as my lord? Hast thou ever known me to seek my own advantage to thy prejudice in the price of a single prayer-mat? Do I not bring up my children to bless thee as their father’s benefactor? … These words which thou hast spoken wound my inmost heart. Behold, am I not thy thing, to take up or to cast aside? If I likened thee by chance to a poor fellah, who had but one camel, Allah be my witness, it was because I knew no other story to meet thy case. Fables ever deal in extremes; I meant thee no insult, as thou knowest well. I did but give thee the best advice that I had out of the little store of wisdom which is mine. O Saïd—O my dear! I have loved thee with a great affection ever since the day thou didst hire me to be thy servant, and didst give me that rich garment—the root of my honour—which I still cherish in my house. That is long ago, when Mûsa, my firstborn, was yet at his mother’s breast. Now Mûsa is almost a man to wear the turban, yet I love thee with
