“It is well said,” replied the pacha.
“Sometimes I thought that I had seized possession of a fact, but it slipped through my fingers like the tail of an eel.”
“Let us have the facts, which did not escape thee, friend, and let the mists of doubt be cleared away before the glory of the pacha,” replied Mustapha.
One day I was sitting in the warmth of the sun, by the tomb of a true believer, when an old woman accosted me.
“You are welcome,” said I.
“Is your humour good?” said she.
“It is good,” replied I.
She sat down by me; and, after a quarter of an hour, she continued: “God is great,” said she.
“And Mahomet is his Prophet,” replied I. “In the name of Allah, what do you wish?”