“But what need hast thou of women, with a pearl of beauty here beside thee?” questioned Barakah.
“One who has beheld thy loveliness must evermore desire the like of it! Oh, that thou hadst a sister for me!” he made answer glibly.
He moved away, but presently another came and made the same preposterous request, retreating with the same forced compliment; and on the journey home, when Yûsuf closed his eyes and seemed to sleep, Hâfiz Bey, whom she had thought more sensible, approached her in his turn. When she denied all knowledge of the matter he answered in low tones:
“There is a secret, that is known, by Allah. Thou hast it, and hast given hints to Yûsuf; else why should he be more successful than the rest of us?”
“Because he is better looking,” it was on the tip of her tongue to say, as she surveyed the fat, good-tempered face of Hâfiz with its Chinese eyes. It was all that she could do to keep from screams of laughter.
“It is my dream,” he whispered. “By Allah it disturbs my nights with cruel pain—to take a lady just like thee in all respects—a Frank and noble, of extreme refinement—back with me to Masr.”
She derided him. He still continued pleading, supporting his petition with the grossest flattery, till they reached home, when Yûsuf suddenly sprang up and glowered at Hâfiz. He had been feigning sleep. It was a thunderbolt. Bedr-ul-Budûr screamed warning to her lord, who gave but a single look and fled indoors, the jealous one pursuing like a madman. In the hall the harmless youth was overtaken and turned round to plead. With a howl of “Dog!” Yûsuf sprang at his throat and bore him to the ground. Like dogs in very truth they fought till parted by the hotel servants with the help of broomsticks; while Barakah strove in vain to make her explanation heard; Bedr-ul-Budûr appealed to Allah and the prophet; and the landlady from the third step of the stairs, with hands and eyes thrown up, exclaimed repeatedly: “O ciel! C’est monseigneur!”