“Do a kindness, O Zeyd,” he said at length. “Go to the Chief of the Learned. At this hour thou wilt find him in the mosque El Aksa. Repeat to him the tale, and beseech him to ascertain the truth for us. He has influence with the rulers of the city, and can come at the rights of it.”
Zeyd sped on the errand. Shibli lay crushed before the sheykh, groaning and weeping, praying for death and forgiveness.
“What can I do to atone? O lord, I will marry thy daughter when the Frank has healed her. See, my soul is between thy two feet.”
In accents of mild wonder the sheykh replied:
“What is this thou sayest of my daughter? Allah forbid that I should victimize thee. Never, unless by the especial grace of Allah, will she live to be given in marriage. Why hast thou hid thy thought from me? I had not blamed nor in any wise constrained thee. The affections of a young man are winds blowing hot or cold on him; he discerns neither their goal nor their origin; nor can in aught control them. He can but entreat Allah to order them for his soul’s weal. Is it for this thou hast shunned me these many days? Be comforted. I forgive thee, O my son.”
The convulsion of Shibli’s frame abated gradually till he lay in peace, broken only at lengthening intervals by a kind of catch in the breath, like a hiccough. The coo of the mosque pigeons again predominated.
Zeyd soon returned, accompanied by a tall black-bearded man of somber habit, with eyes of coal set deep in a sallow visage.
“The revered Mahmûd in this hour vouchsafes instruction to his disciples. He cannot himself come to thee. But with his peace, and in hope of thy forgiveness, he sends an excellent sheykh who can certify thee concerning the whole matter, being already apprised of it from the mouth of his brother, a high officer of the garrison.”
Zeyd delivered the message with unction. The words of the Chief of the Learned were as sweetmeats in his mouth.
With a formal salutation the reverend sheykh, thus presented, sat down crosslegged before the cell, and spoke as follows: