The love which existed between these two brothers was known to them all; they had been together from childhood; the quiet, unassuming disposition of the younger accorded well with the somewhat wild and bragging character of his brother, and his retiring habits preventing him mixing much with others of his station, made him cleave with more affectionate dependence to his brother; he had endeavoured to dissuade him from this journey, but his love of enterprise had prevailed. And now, with a fearful dread that they were parted for ever, Mahmoud made his way with rapid steps towards the Kaisaria, through long streets of shops, shaded from the sun by date-boughs supported by poles thrown across the street from wall to wall, hustling his way through crowds of people, water-carriers, sweetmeat-sellers, Delals hawking their goods, camels, mules, and horses, until, overcome with heat and fatigue, he reached the bazaar, where shops, packed with shawls, scarfs, silk handkerchiefs, and European goods, invited the purchaser. Here he was informed that the object of his search had gone to the fondak. The story of the plunder of the caravan was in every one's mouth. Resting a minute to take a draught of water to moisten his parched lips, and which the water-carrier, with his usual "Allaw Kerim!" emitted from the neck of a goat-skin gathered in his hand, into a brass bowl: Mahmoud set off on another long round, and at length found the Fez merchant sitting in one of the empty partitions of the colonnade, round the court-yard of the fondak. His face was woe-begone, and his fingers as usual combed his grey beard, as he ruminated over his losses, when he was addressed by Mahmoud,—
"Salamo Alikoom; Sidi Idries! were you with the Cafila that was plundered in the Desert?"
"Woe unto me!—who else?" said the little man with a groan, and then began, half to himself, enumerating his losses: "Were there not three bales of silk, worth six hundred dollars, five camel-loads of grocery and spice, four hundred and fifty dollars at least, not to count expenses and camel hire. Woe is me, to leave my own shop, to be ruined in my old age, besides this there were two—"
"Then you can inform me—" interposed Mahmoud, impatiently.
"Is it not I that can give you information of the whole affair? Have I not paid dearly for experience? As I was saying,—Two bales of cowries, upwards of 140,000, one hundred and forty dollars."
"But what I want to ask you—" said Mahmoud, beginning to lose all patience.
"Little by little, my friend," said Sidi Idries, "and I will tell you all; little by little the camel gets into the saucepan. To think of the slaves, and the gold-dust, and the ivory, I have lost. Our lives were saved—yes—God is merciful—but what is life without the means of living—the sum total—"
Mahmoud's patience here gave way—
"For God's sake, hear me!" thundered he, striking his clenched hand on the shopboard, and putting a sudden stop to the merchant's volubility. "I wish to know if any of your company were killed by the Arabs? It is not from curiosity, but my brother went with them, and has not returned: I fear some evil has befallen him."