“Oh! my hadji, then become my protector. I have an unjust debtor, who refuses me my due.”
“You cannot entrust a better person,” replied Yussuf. “I am a strong arm of the law, and my interest at court is such, that I have already procured two decrees.”
“Those are great words, O hadji.”
“Tell me, then, who is this debtor, that I may seize him, and carry him before the cadi. Haste to tell me, and for a few dirhems I will gain your cause, right or wrong.”
“My complaint is against my husband, who has divorced me, and notwithstanding, refuses me my dowry of five dinars, my clothes, and my ornaments.”
“What is your husband’s trade?”
“Pious sir, he is an embroiderer of papouches.”
“Let us lose no time, my good woman; show me this miracle of injustice, and by Allah, I will confound him.”
Upon this the woman unbound the string of coins from her head, and cutting off three dirhems, presented them to Yussuf. Yussuf seized the money, and tucking up his sleeves that he might appear more like an officer, he bade her to lead to the delinquent. The woman led him to the great mosque, where her husband, a little shrivelled-up man, was performing his duties with great devotion. Yussuf without saying a word, took him up, carpet and all, and was about to carry him off.
“In the name of the Prophet, to what class of madmen do you belong?” screamed the astonished devotee; “release me, do not crush my poor ribs within your grasp. Set me down, and I will walk with you, as soon as I have put on my slippers.”