"Salem alek!"
Halil straightway ran home, clambered up to the roof by means of the rope-ladder, found both the letter and the money under the carpet, rejoiced greatly that they had not been stolen during his absence, and thrusting them both into his satchel of reeds without even taking the trouble to look at them, hastened off to the bazaar with them, where there was an acquaintance of his, a certain money-changer, who knew all about every man in Stambul, in order that he might find out from him where dwelt the man to whom the letter entrusted to him by the stranger was addressed.
Accordingly he handed the letter to the money-changer in order that he might give him full directions without so much as casting an eye upon the address himself.
The money-changer examined the address of the letter, and forthwith was filled with amazement.
"Halil Patrona!" cried he, "have you been taking part in the Carnival of the Giaours that you have allowed yourself to be so befooled? Or can't you read?"
"Read! of course I can. But I don't fancy I can know the man to whom this letter is directed."
"Well, all I can say is that you knew him very well indeed this time yesterday, for the man is yourself—none other."
Halil, full of astonishment, took the letter, which hitherto he had not regarded—sure enough it was addressed to himself.
"Then he who gave me this letter must needs be a madman, and there is a purse which I have to hand over along with it."
"Yes, I see that your name is written on that also."