Rodoan Aga said, that the much-esteemed Persian merchant Ibrahim of Hamadan, called Sishman, had been suddenly compelled to visit Damascus, in order to secure some money in danger of falling into the hands of the rebel sheikhs, and that he had left the Frank bazerguian, or merchant, in charge of his business and his magazines at Gaza. The keys of the magazines and the letter of instructions were in the hands of the Frank, and he, Rodoan, and several others present, held orders on the Frank both for the payment and the receipt of various sums of money and bales of goods. The letter written by Ibrahim to Sidney was now read before the divan, and each man offered his remarks on it. All agreed that Sidney was thereby named the lawful agent of Ibrahim, and that he could not refuse the trust confided to him.
In vain the Englishman declared he was no merchant, and explained that Ibrahim Sishman had decamped with his bill on Beyrout. In vain he solicited Hafiz Bey to give him the means of continuing his journey to Beyrout, where he possessed the means of paying every expense he might incur. In vain, too, he offered to give his claim on Ibrahim either to Hafiz Bey or to Rodoan. It was whispered about by his enemy the Consul Elias that he was agent of the British Government, sent to purchase provisions for an invading army; and Hafiz feared to allow him to depart until he received precise instructions on the subject from Ibrahim Pasha himself. He consequently recommended Sidney to wait a day or two for news from Ibrahim Sishman; and concerning his departure he replied only, "Bakalum, we shall see."
The discussion at the divan of Hafiz Bey lasted all the morning. Rodoan Aga and the Moslems of Gaza retired to dine and take their mid-day nap, while Sidney retired to his room to meditate on his embarrassed position. Had he possessed a couple of horses, or money enough to purchase them, he would, without a moment's hesitation, have put his foot in the stirrup and left Gaza, its consuls, and its governor behind, and trusted to his good fortune for finding his way to Jerusalem. But his empty purse rendered every project of flight impossible. His wits being now sharpened by his misfortunes, he easily perceived that Rodoan Aga was in league with his host, Fat Abraham, and he had no doubt that the departure of the Persian was really connected with the political storm which threatened Syria. Even Hafiz Bey, he felt assured, possessed some knowledge of the intrigues of the Sublime Porte against Mohammed Ali's domination, and made use of this mercantile affair as a veil to other projects. The more Sidney reflected, the greater he saw his danger to be; and yet he was only the more convinced of his utter helplessness amidst the mesh of intrigues with which he was surrounded. He became seriously alarmed at his position, as soon as he saw that no exertions of his own could possibly improve it. He fell into a reverie on the doctrine of predestination in the East, which seemed to him, in his present situation, infinitely more rational than it had ever appeared before. The moral and religious disposition of the Arabs and Turks began to appear to him as much the result of the air and climate as the plague itself; and there seemed as much danger of their affecting the intellects of a traveller who delayed too long within the sphere of their operation, as of the plague affecting his body.
His escape was really hopeless. No more travellers were likely to pass through Gaza during the summer, and Hafiz Bey was not likely to allow him to communicate either with Jerusalem, Beyrout, or Damascus. He threw himself on his sofa in despair, and remained plunged in a series of conjectures, each one more disagreeable than its predecessor.
Achmet, after placing his master's breakfast before him, had sallied out to the bazaar to collect news. In about an hour he returned, and found Sidney still overpowered with melancholy thoughts. "Mr Sidney! Mr Sidney! the coffee cold," shouted Achmet.
"Curse the coffee!" replied Sidney, whose mind naturally enough reverted to the magazine filled with coffee in the room below him, of which he had suddenly become the commission merchant. But he rose up to see how Achmet bore their mutual misfortune. To his astonishment, Achmet's black face was radiant with joy. Amazed at the change, for when he had last looked at Achmet he was in a furious passion at their detention, Sidney said—"Achmet, you seem pleased to stay in this accursed spot, Gaza!"
Achmet rejoined—"Me no pleased—me no help."
"Well then, Achmet, bring me some warm coffee, and let me hear what consoles you?"
Achmet soon appeared with a fresh supply of Mocha; and while Sidney was proceeding with breakfast, he seated himself near the door on his heels, as was his habit whenever he proposed holding a long conversation with his master.
To Sidney's question, "Now, Achmet, tell me what I must do?" Achmet replied—"You must keep Ibrahim's shop, Mr Sidney, to be sure;—you merchant, me slave—plenty of tobacco—all go very good." He then placed all the facts he had collected in the bazaar before his master's mind, and unfolded his own thoughts in comments on them, concluding by declaring, that Sidney must act as the representative of Ibrahim Sishman in the shop in the bazaar, or submit to see some other person elected by the inhabitants of Gaza to act in his place, and perhaps starve in a strange land. As some consolation, Achmet assured his master that there could be no doubt that the affairs of Ibrahim were really in a prosperous way, and that in a very short time they would be able to collect money enough to pay the bill on Beyrout, and then they could turn over the administration of the trust committed to their charge to some other deputy. The picture Achmet drew of Sidney seated like a tailor in the den in the bazaar, doling out tobacco and coffee to the citizens of Gaza, was so comic, that, in spite of all his embarrassments, Sidney burst into a hearty laugh.