“There is but one God,” replied he, “and I am his Prophet.”
“Merciful Allah!” exclaimed the pacha, “why, it must have been Mahomet himself.”
“It was so, your highness, although I knew it not at the time.”
“Prove unto me that it is the true faith,” said I.
“I will,” replied he; “I will turn the heart of the infidel captain,” and he disappeared. The next day the captain of the vessel, to my astonishment, came to me as I lay on the forecastle, and begging my pardon for the cruelty that he had been guilty of, shed tears over me, and ordered me to be carried to his cabin. He laid me in his own bed, and watched me as he would a favourite child. In a short time I recovered; after which he would permit me to do no duty, but insisted upon my being his guest, and loaded me with every kindness.
“God is great!” ejaculated the pacha.
I was lying in my bed, meditating upon these thing when the venerable form again appeared to me.