This idea appeared so irresistibly comic to M. de Morin that he sat up in bed.
Fearing that he had gone too far in his demands, Joseph hastened to add—
"Pray do not alarm yourself, sir. I will only wear the bûrnus whilst on the march. When I am in attendance on you, sir, you may be assured that I shall appear in my usual dress. I know the proprieties, sir."
"Be it so, then. And your third wish?"
"Is, that you, sir, will be kind enough to allow me to change my name of Joseph to that of Mohammed. Ever since I lived in Algeria I have dreamt of calling myself Mohammed."
M. de Morin had all his work cut out to keep his countenance over this fresh request. However, he replied, with the utmost gravity—
"If I take you with me to Africa you shall wear a bûrnus and a turban to boot. If you like, you shall call yourself Mohammed; and, in order that you may be at hand, I will find you a horse, an ass, or a camel, according to circumstances."
"You overwhelm me, sir," said Joseph. "Oh, I never dared dream of a camel!"
"You deserve one, Joseph; you deserve one, and you shall have one. But, for the present, allow me to go to sleep. Do you go to bed, too, and don't forget to call me at five, as I have already told you. By-the-way, you may as well bring me something when I awake—it does not matter what."
"A cup of café noir, sir?" asked Joseph.