“Thou knowest not what thou askest, my son. Ours is a hard life, one of penitence, prostration, and prayer—our food is but of herbs and the water of the spring; our rest is broken, and we know not where to lay our heads. Depart, yaha bibi, my friend, depart in peace.”
“But, father,” replied I (for to tell your highness the truth, notwithstanding the old man’s assertions, as to their austerities of life, I very much doubted the fact), “I am prepared for all this, if necessary, and even more. I have brought my little wealth to add to the store, and contribute to the welfare of your holy band; and I must not be denied.” I perceived that the old man’s eyes twinkled at the bare mention of gold, and I drew from my sash five and twenty sequins, which I had separated from my hoard, with the intention of offering it. “See, holy father,” continued I, “the offering which I would make.”
“Barik Allah—praise be to God,” exclaimed the dervish, “that he has sent us a true believer. Thy offering is accepted; but thou must not expect yet to enter into the austerities of our holy order. I have many disciples here, who wear the dress, and yet they are not as regular as good dervishes should be; but there is a time for all things, and when their appetite to do wrong fails them, they will (Inshallah, please God), in all probability, become more holy and devout men. You are accepted.” And the old man held out his hand for the money, which he clutched with eagerness, and hid away under his garment. “Ali,” said he, to one of the dervishes who had stood at some distance during my audience, “this young man—what is your name—Hudusi—is admitted into our fraternity. Take him with thee, give him a dress of the order, and let him be initiated into our mysteries, first demanding from him the oath of secrecy. Murakhas, good Hudusi, you are dismissed.”
I followed the dervish through a narrow passage, until we arrived at a door, at which he knocked; it was opened, and I passed through a court-yard, where I perceived several of the dervishes stretched on the ground in various postures, breathing heavily, and insensible.
“These,” said my conductor, “are holy men who are favoured by Allah. They are in a trance, and during that state, are visited by the Prophet, and are permitted to enter the eighth heaven, and see the glories prepared for true believers.” I made no reply to his assertion, but as it was evident that they were all in a state of beastly intoxication, I very much doubted the fact.
I received my dress, took an oath of secrecy, and was introduced to my companions; whom I soon found to be a set of dissolute fellows, indulging in every vice, and laughing at every virtue; living in idleness, and by the contributions made to them by the people, who firmly believed in their pretended sanctity. The old man, with the white beard, who was their chief, was the only one who did not indulge in debauchery. He had outlived his appetite for the vices of youth, and fallen into the vice of age—a love for money, which was insatiable. I must acknowledge that the company and mode of living were more to my satisfaction than the vigils, hard fare, and constant prayer, with which the old man had threatened me, when I proposed to enter the community, and I soon became an adept in dissimulation and hypocrisy, and a great favourite with my brethren.
I ought to have observed to your sublimity, that the sect of dervishes, of which I had become a member, were then designated by the name of howling dervishes; all our religion consisted in howling like jackals or hyenas, with all our might, until we fell down in real or pretended convulsions. My howl was considered as the most appalling and unearthly that was ever heard; and, of course, my sanctity was increased in proportion. We were on our way to Scutari, where was our real place of residence, and only lodged here and there on our journey to fleece those who were piously disposed. I had not joined more than ten days when they continued their route, and after a week of very profitable travelling, passed through Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and regained their place of domiciliation, and were received with great joy by the inhabitants, to whom the old chief and many others of our troop were well known.
Your sublime highness must be aware that the dervishes are not only consulted by, but often become the bankers of, the inhabitants, who entrust them with the care of their money. My old chief (whose name I should have mentioned before was Ulu-bibi), held large sums in trust for many of the people with whom he was acquainted; but his avarice inducing him to lend the money out on usury, it was very difficult to recover it when it was desired, although it was always religiously paid back. I had not been many months at Scutari, before I found myself in high favour, from my superior howling, and the duration of my convulsions. But during this state, which by habit soon became spasmodic, continuing until the vital functions were almost extinct, the mind was as active as ever, and I lay immersed in a sea of doubt which was most painful. In my state of exhaustion I doubted every thing. I doubted if my convulsions were convulsions, or only feigned; I doubted if I was asleep or awake; I doubted whether I was in a trance, or in another world, or dead, or—
“Friend Hudusi,” interrupted Mustapha, “we want the facts of your story, and not your doubts. Say I not well, your highness? What is all this but bosh—nothing?”