“Yes. Thanks to your blundering, I was punished for reading ‘The Arabian Nights.’ I thought you did it on purpose, out of spite—Stay still; I know now that wasn’t true,” (Archag had started to go away) “I was furious, and I was bound I would pay you back. But I haven’t had a moment’s peace since. You are so good, so generous; do say you forgive me.”
Archag held out his hand in silence, and Nejib clasped it with both his own. Masters and pupils alike watched this scene with astonishment.
“Nejib, I can’t say I congratulate you on your behavior,” cried Monsieur Bernier. “I wouldn’t have believed it of you.”
“Nor I, nor I,” murmured the others.
“Let him alone,” said Mihran hodja. “Reproaches do no good.”
The boys broke off some pine boughs and made a litter for Nejib, but the descent was very difficult, for the boy was suffering severely, and every jolt drew from him a groan of pain.
At Ibrahamli, the village sorcerer massaged his foot, and dressed his wounds according to all the rules of the profession. The next morning he was put on a horse, and the whole company set out on the return trip to Aintab. The president and professors were indignant when they learned of Nejib’s ill-conduct. Dr. Mills imposed a punishment of three days on bounds, and made him ask pardon of Archag publicly.