"Now may Allah house thee!" said Mîtri with a thoughtful frown. "Allah knows thy mother does great wrong thus to cast thee abroad, a young unmarried man; unless she wishes to debauch thee utterly. For who but the worst of characters would take thee in, to share the intimacy of their wives and daughters, except it might be as a traveller, and for a single night? Wallah, I am at a loss how to advise thee. There is not at present among us an old childless couple, nor yet a bachelor, whose dwelling thou couldst share. By the Holy Gospel, I see no resort for thee except a khan.… I have it!"—his perplexity was lightened suddenly, and he raised his eyes, till then downcast. "Thou shalt lodge at the hotel of Mûsa el Barûdi, where thy patron dwells. Mûsa is of my congregation, and he loves me well; while, as for Selîm and Daûd, his two sons, I taught them their duties and chastised their youthful conduct. Wait here, and I will write a word to them, how thou art tired of the vain beliefs of the Brûtestânts, and wouldst tread the path of Salvation."
"Write all that pleases thee, our father!"
Iskender waited to receive the missive; and then, with blessings on the priest and all belonging to him, sped with it to the hotel. To be near his sweet Emîr both night and day fulfilled his dearest wish.
The sons of Mûsa had not yet risen when he entered the hall; and the black doorkeeper, accustomed to see him come in every day without leave or question, betrayed astonishment when asked to bear a letter to them.
"To which of the twain?" he asked, with a dubious grin.
"By Allah, that I care not; for see, by the superscription, the message is to both alike."
"I will show it to the Khawâjah Selîm," the negro muttered, and went off, holding the paper wrapped in his white robe.
He returned almost immediately, on his heels Selîm the son of Mûsa, who cried gladly:
"Thou art welcome and thrice welcome, O my dear! The praise to Allah, and good luck to thee! Our father Mîtri must be mad with joy; for thou art the first that ever came from them to him, while they have stolen many from his flock, though not of late. The Holy Orthodox Church invites no proselyte, so the more credit to the man who comes to her. She resembles some old-fashioned, quiet merchant, too dignified to compete with Frankish cheapjacks. Our house is thy house; dwell here as long as is convenient to thee, and may Allah preserve thee always."
Iskender murmured his thanks, standing reverently, with hands folded away and eyes downcast. Then, when Selîm had gone back to his dressing, he crossed his legs upon the pavement of the hall and mused on his good fortune, praising Allah.