"I will not answer," returned Zadig, "for his being the most skillful, but I assure you he will be the most honest."
Zadig spoke with so much confidence that the king imagined he had some supernatural test for selecting honest financiers.
"I do not like the supernatural," said Zadig: "people and books dealing in prodigies have always displeased me. If your majesty will permit me to make the test, you will be convinced it is the easiest and simplest thing possible."
Nabussan consented, and was more astonished to hear that the test was simple, than if it had been claimed as a miracle.
"Leave all the details to me," said Zadig: "You will gain more by this trial than you imagine."
The same day he made proclamation in the king's name, that all candidates for the office of receiver-in-chief of the revenues of his gracious majesty Nabussan, son of Nussanab, must present themselves in dresses of light silk, on the first day of the month of the crocodile, in the king's anti-chamber. The candidates came, accordingly, to the number of sixty-four. Musicians were placed in an adjoining room, and all was prepared for the dance. As the door of the saloon was closed, it was necessary, in order to enter it, to pass through a small gallery which was slightly darkened. An usher directed each candidate in succession through this obscure passage, in which he was left alone for some moments. The king, being aware of the plan, had temptingly spread out in this gallery many of his choicest treasures. When all the candidates were assembled in the saloon, the king ordered the band to play and the dance to begin. Never had dancers performed more unwillingly or with less grace. Their heads were down, their backs bent, their hands pressed to their sides.
"What rascals!" murmured Zadig.
One alone danced with grace and agility,—his head up, his look assured, his body erect, his arms free, his motions natural.
"Ah, the honest man, the excellent man!" cried Zadig.
The king embraced this upright dancer, appointed him treasurer, and punished all the others with the utmost justice, for each one had, while passing through the gallery, filled his pockets till he could hardly walk. His majesty was distressed at this exhibition of dishonesty, and regretted that among these sixty-four dancers there should be sixty-three thieves. This dark gallery was then named the Corridor of Temptation.