"I am sure of it. It is also the opinion of all our wise men in England."
Sheikh Ali.—"Christian, I hate Marabouts. In the long years of my life I have seen all their tricks, lies, and impositions. I am sorry for the poor people, on whom they practise their impostures, and also for the women. I have one daughter; I never permitted her to consult a marabout. I told her what the wretches were. Have you marabouts in England?"
"Yes, of all descriptions. We have also many who get the women to confess the secrets of families, and create an odious war in the bosom of society."
Sheikh Ali.—"Ah, ah (chuckling), all the world's alike. God curse those marabouts. Do you give them money?"
"Money! In our country, nothing is done without money."
Sheikh Ali.—(Becoming fresh excited.) "What! are the English like us? is a man esteemed for his money?"
"You have heard of London?"
Sheikh Ali.—"Londra?"
"Yes, that's it. Well, in Londra, nor virtue, nor honour, nor wisdom, is worth anything without money."
Sheikh Ali.—"The Devil take the world, it's all alike. So here, so there. When I was rich, everybody bowed down to me; now that I am poor, they pass me by without saying bis-slamah (saluting). Why did God make money? How wretched is the world." So this philosopher of The Desert continued. Returning, I bade the ancient Sheikh an affectionate adieu.
