"I am on important business just at present, my friend," he said, in his kindliest tone, "on business in which I am sure Abraham the Jew can help me, better than any other man in Mecca."
"Ha!" exclaimed the peddler, "and what may that be?"
"Can you keep a still tongue when it is necessary, Jew?"
The peddler placed his fingers on his lips, rolled up his eyes, and nodded assent.
"Then come with me to the house of Amzi the benevolent,—my Meccan home,—and I shall explain."
When seated comfortably on divans in the coolest part of the house, Yusuf told the story of the gold cup, and intimated that Abraham's wandering life and the numberless throngs of people with whom his trade threw him in contact, gave him facilities, impossible to others, of doing a little detective work in a quiet way.
The Jew listened, silent and motionless, with his eyes fixed on a lotus-bud carved on the cornice. Only once did he turn and fix his little round eyes sharply on the priest's face.
"There is just one more thing—" continued Yusuf, then he stopped. He was about to tell of the little carnelian stone, when his eye fell upon one of the numerous rings upon the Jew's fat fingers. There, in the center of it, was a small cavity from which, apparently, a jewel of some sort had fallen from its setting.
Yusuf almost sprang to his feet in the excitement of the discovery.
"Well?" asked the Jew, noting the pause.