“Bring me beer,” he commanded.
Beer was brought and we solemnly clinked glasses. Dancing-girls from the neighboring houses appeared and kissed his turban. A few men drifted in, but seeing who was present, discreetly disappeared.
The marabout turned to me solemnly and said: “In your country do you have dancing-girls as in North Africa?”
I shook my head.
“Neither did we before the French came. Your people have much wisdom,” he replied. “They are Christians, are they not?”
“Yes,” I said, “but there are also Jews in my country, and in our dominions there are Mohammedans and Hindus and Buddhists.”
The old man’s eyes fixed themselves on me.
“But are there, then, other sects than Mohammedan, Christian, and Jew?”
“Oh yes,” I went on, and I tried to give him a rough outline of the other faiths of the world. He listened to me in silence.
“You are very young,” he said at last, “but you have the wisdom of a great marabout.”