On the arrival of Benabu at the Court, he was summoned by the Uzir, who informed him that the Sultan was dissatisfied with the accounts rendered by him of receipts of taxes and dues during his government both of the Tangier and Rif provinces; that a house had been allotted to him, where he was to reside, and consider himself under arrest until more regular accounts were presented. Benabu replied that the Uzir knew the Rifians never paid tithes upon land or agriculture; that he had transmitted regularly to the Court the presents of mules and other gifts which the Rif population had delivered to him, as their customary annual tribute to the Sultan, as ‘Prince of Believers and Allah’s kaliph;’ that as to the Tangier province, he had presented annually an account of receipts of taxes, and other dues; that the receipts had greatly diminished on account of irregular protection being extended by Foreign Ministers and Consuls to rich farmers, and to the peasantry in general, and that all protected persons were held by the Foreign Representatives to be exempted from the payment of taxes or other contributions to the Government.
Guarded by the Uzir’s kavasses, Benabu was taken to the small house that had been prepared for his confinement. He was allowed to retain one of his followers; the bodyguard he had brought from Tangier was dismissed, and ordered to return.
Months passed, Benabu remained under arrest; his son, the Khalífa at Tangier, died. This misfortune, and the harsh treatment he had received as an old and loyal servant of the Sultan, preyed on his mind. Prostrated by an ague, followed by typhus fever, Benabu petitioned the Sultan to be allowed to send for his younger son Fatmeh. This was granted, and Fatmeh arrived a few days before his father’s death.
On the return of Fatmeh to Tangier, I waited some days expecting him to call and claim the money left in my possession; but he did not appear, so I sent for him.
After expressions of condolence about the death of his father, I inquired whether he had found him still sensible on his arrival at the Court, and whether his father had given him any message for me. He said he had found his father in a dying state, but perfectly sensible, and that he was able to give him full directions about his property: that he had spoken of me and had used the words—‘God’s blessing be on his head, he has been a true friend to me and to the Mohammedans!’ ‘Did he not mention,’ I asked, ‘that he had seen me the night before he left Tangier and had placed money in my hands? Did he not mention also that he had left property in the hands of a Jewish friend?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘a large sum with ———, which I have had the greatest difficulty in recovering, though my mother had a receipt. Two thousand dollars were paid by my family to recover the money left in the Jew’s hands.’
‘Did your father not tell you,’ I repeated, ‘that I had also received a deposit in money for which, as requested, I did not give a receipt?’ On Fatmeh replying in the negative, I told him to return to his mother and ask her whether her late husband had ever mentioned his intention of secretly depositing money in my hands; adding, ‘Come back, unattended, to the Legation at midnight, and without knocking enter at the garden door, which you will find open.’
At midnight Fatmeh returned. I awaited him. He informed me that his mother had never heard or supposed that any money had been deposited with me. We then descended into the cellar and, pointing to the bin where the bags lay, I told him to remove the bottles and laths.
‘These bags,’ I said, ‘contain coin left me by your father, who refused to accept a receipt. They now belong to his heirs. I know not the amount, but wish you to open each bag before you leave, and to bring me to-morrow some proof that you have delivered the money to your mother.’
Fatmeh took down a bag, and opening it, exclaimed in a very excited manner, ‘Gold!’ Each bag was opened with the same exclamation, his excitement increasing. Having finished the examination of the bags, I told him to put them as his father had done, in the ample folds of his dress, above the girdle. ‘All?’ he said. I replied ‘all.’ He hesitated, and then turning to me, observed: ‘Shall I not leave you half?’ ‘You are “hamák,”’ (mad) I replied. ‘Don’t you understand, that if I had wanted this money I might have kept all?’