“I had been waiting for this confession, and I at once suggested that I could act as go-between. I would, said I, stand guarantor. My great wealth would at once restore opinion, the loan would certainly be taken up, and I should only make the nominal charge of five gold pieces every year for each hundred I had thus guaranteed.
“The Vizier was so astounded at my generosity that he almost fell backward, but recovering himself, he poured forth the most extravagant thanks, which were hardly marred by the look I detected in his eye, a look certainly betraying the belief that such an offer from a commercial man could hardly be made in good faith. To reassure him I adopted what is known in the financial world as the Seventh, or Frankly Simple, tone. I told him without reserve the total of my wealth (which I put at a fifth of its real amount) and promised to bring it in cash to offices which he should permit me to establish in the city.
“Entering the next day with a million pieces of gold charged upon a train of very heavily laden camels, I set up my bank in the most crowded portion of the Bazaar, published news of my intention to support the Government, inviting the public inspection of the metal so lent, and at the same time proposing that any who desired regular interest of four pieces guaranteed by myself annually upon every hundred should come forward to take the loan off my hands. The hoards of gold still remaining in the country reappeared as though by magic—so much more delightful is it to lend voluntarily at interest than to pay away under torture for ever—and at last there applied at my office for the favour of extending a loan ten times as many citizens as the situation required.
“My terms with the Government were simple, and, I am sure, moderate. All that I asked was that the tax collectors should in future pay their receipts into my chest, from which I pledged myself to hand over to the Government whatever surplus there might be after I had paid to the lenders their annual interest, four pieces, and kept for myself a fifth piece, which formed my tiny and not unearned commission.
“In this way I rapidly repaid myself and also took one piece on every hundred others had subscribed. The learned men of the place, who had never before imagined so simple and practical a plan, treated me with almost supernatural reverence. I was consulted upon every operation of war, my guarantee was eagerly sought for in other financial ventures, and I was able, I am glad to say, to secure other commissions without touching a penny of my treasure—I had but to hold it forth as a proof of good faith.
“The enemy was repelled. But victory was not won. The war dragged on for a year and there was no decision. Gold grew scarce, and again the Government was in despair.
“I easily relieved them. ‘Write,’ I said, ‘promises on paper to be repaid in gold.’ They did as I advised—paying me (at my request) a trifle of half a million for the advice. I handled the affair—on a merely nominal profit. I punctually met for another year every note that was paid in. But too many were presented, for the war seemed unending and entered a third year.
“Then did I conceive yet another stupendous thing. ‘Bid them,’ said I to the Sultan, ‘take the notes as money. Cease to repay. Write, not “I will on delivery of this paper pay a piece of gold,” but, “this is a piece of gold.”’
“He did as I told him. The next day the Vizier came to me with the story of an insolent fellow to whom fifty such notes had been offered as payment for a camel for the war and who had sent back, not a camel, but another piece of paper on which was written ‘This is a camel.’
“‘Cut off his head!’ said I.