CHAPTER LV — Of the man Hajji Baba meets, thinking him dead; and of the marriage which he brings about.
Having accomplished this part of my business, I strolled to one of the most frequented caravanserais in the city, to see whether, perchance, some circumstance might not turn up to advance my master's views. As I approached it, I found all the avenues blocked up with mules and camels heavily laden, intermixed with travellers, some of whom wearing a white band, the distinguishing mark of the pilgrims who have visited the tomb of Iman Reza, at Meshed, informed me that the caravan came from the province of Khorassan. I waited to see it gradually unravel from the maze of the narrow streets, and, after a due allowance of wrangling and abuse between the mule and camel drivers, I saw it take up its abode in the square of the building.
'Perhaps', said I, 'my good stars may throw some of my former acquaintance at Meshed into my way'; and I looked at each traveller with great earnestness. It was true that many years had now elapsed since my memorable bastinado, and that time would have made great changes in the appearances of men; but still, I, who knew each face by heart, and had studied its expression as it inhaled my smoke, hoped that my recollection would not fail me.
I had despaired of making a discovery, and was about to walk away, when a certain nose, a certain round back, and a certain projecting paunch, met my eye, and arrested my attention.
'Those forms are familiar to me,' said I; 'they are connected with some of my early ideas; and assuredly are the property of one who is something more than a common acquaintance.' My first master, Osman Aga, came into my mind; but all idea of him I immediately banished, because it was more than certain that he had long since fallen a victim to the horrors of his captivity among the Turcomans. Still I looked at him, and at every glance I felt convinced it was either he, his brother, or his ghost. I approached to where he was seated, in the hope of hearing him speak; but he seemed to be torpid (which was another characteristic in favour of my suspicion), and I had waited some time in vain, when, to my surprise, I heard him, in a voice well known to my ears, inquire of a merchant who was passing, 'In God's name, what may be the price of lambs' skins at Constantinople?'
'Oh, for once,' said I, 'I cannot be mistaken! You can be no one but Osman,'—and I immediately made myself known to him.
He was as slow to believe that it was Hajji Baba who accosted him, as I had been to make him out Osman Aga.
After our expressions of mutual astonishment had somewhat subsided, we began to survey each other. I discussed the greyness of his beard, and he complimented me upon the beauty and blackness of mine. He talked with great serenity of the lapse of time, and of the nothingness of this world, from which I perceived that his belief in predestination had rather increased than diminished by his misfortunes, and which alone could account for the equanimity with which he had borne them. In his usual concise manner, he related what had befallen him since we last met. He said, that after the first feelings of misery at his captivity had gone by, his time passed more agreeably than he had expected; for he had nothing to do but to sit with the camels, whose nature being of the same calm and philosophic cast as his own, suited his quiet and sedentary habits. His food was indifferent, but then he had excellent water; and the only privation which he seemed to regret was tobacco,—a want which long previous habit rendered infinitely painful. Years had run on in this manner, and he had made up his mind to pass the remainder of his life with the camels, when his destiny took another turn, and he once more had the cheering hope of being restored to liberty. One, who gave himself out for a prophet, appeared among the Turcomans. According to the custom of such personages, he established his influence by pretending to work two or three miracles, and which were received as such by that credulous people. His word became a law. The most celebrated and experienced marauders freely laid their spoils at his feet, and willingly listed under his banner, in whatever enterprise he chose to propose. Osman Aga presented himself before him, asserted his privileges of a Sûni, and, moreover, of being an emir, and at length succeeded in making the impostor procure his liberty without ransom, which he did, in order to advance the glory of the true faith. Once free, he lost no time in proceeding to Meshed, where, to his great good fortune, he met merchants from Bagdad, one of whom being nearly connected to him by marriage, advanced him a small sum of money to trade with. He received encouraging accounts of the state of the Turkish markets for the produce of Bokhara, and thither he proceeded to make his purchases on the spot. Owing to his long residence among the Turcomans, he had acquired much useful knowledge concerning their manners and customs—particularly on the subject of buying and selling—and this enabled him to trade, with much success, between Bokhara and Persia, until he had gained a sufficient sum to enable his return to his country with advantage. He was now on the road to Constantinople, with several mules laden with the merchandise of Bokhara, Samarcand, and the east of Persia; and having disposed of it there, it was then his intention to return to his native city, Bagdad. He expressed, however, his intention to remain at Tehran until the spring caravan should assemble, in order to enjoy some of the pleasures of an imperial residence, after having lived so long among savages, as he called the Turcomans, and he inquired from me how he might most agreeably pass his time.
My fair charges immediately came into my mind; and recollecting of old that he was a great advocate for the marriage state, I proposed a wife to him without loss of time.