"Is it not," asked Bennaskar, "O Mahoud, the full of the moon?"
"It is," replied I, with a smile; "but doth Bennaskar intend to change with that fluctuating planet?"
"O Mahoud," said Bennaskar, "the fate of thy friend is dependent on the caprice of the stars. To-night must I put thy utmost friendship to the trial. If Mahoud prove insincere, then is Bennaskar cursed among men. If thy heart is not firm, now, while there is time, depart. But why should I doubt thee? surely Mahoud is of the sons of the Faithful. What must I say? Leave me, Mahoud, leave me; nay, if thou departest, where shall I find thy fellow? and the presence of a friend is necessary to my quiet."
"Then," answered I, "fear not, Bennaskar: Mahoud may be unhappy, but he cannot be unjust. But what is this dreadful trial that obliges Bennaskar to suspect his friend?"
"True," said Bennaskar, "Mahoud is undeserving of suspicion. Let us wait till the sun sink from the skies, and the stars return with their glimmering light."
Bennaskar then proceeded to the bath, and arrayed himself in a costly robe, and desired me to do the same. I obeyed my friend, and we met in the saloon together.
"Alas!" said Bennaskar, as we met, "how can I request my friend to wear the image of deformity?"
"What image of deformity," said I, "must Mahoud wear? All appearances are to Mahoud alike; and the severer the trial, the more shall I commend thy friendship."
"Then," said Bennaskar, pulling out a pot of black ointment, "thou must suffer me to disguise thy face with this ointment: to-night thou must personate a black slave."
"Is such a trifle," said I, "the test of friendship? Give me the ointment, and furnish me with the habit of a slave."