British -- Palestine -- Fiction; Disguise -- Fiction; Short stories; Travel -- Fiction
Mr. Smith immediately produced his purse, which he tendered to me. “If
you will manage it all,” said he, “it will make it so much the easier,
and I shall be infinitely obliged to you.” This of course I declined to
do. I had no business with his purse, and explained to him that if we
went together we could settle that on our return to Jerusalem. “But
could he go through really hard work?” I asked. He answered me with an
assurance that he would and could do anything in that way that it was
possible for man to perform. As for eating and drinking he cared nothing
about it, and would undertake to be astir at any hour of the morning that
might be named. As for sleeping accommodation, he did not care if he
kept his clothes on for a week together. He looked slight and weak; but
he spoke so well, and that without boasting, that I ultimately agreed to
his proposal, and in a few minutes he took his leave of me, promising to
be at Z—’s door with his horse at five o’clock on the following morning.
“I wish you’d allow me to leave my purse with you,” he said again.
“I cannot think of it. There is no possible occasion for it,” I said
again. “If there is anything to pay, I’ll ask you for it when the
journey is over. That forty shillings you must fork out. It’s a law of
the Medes and Persians.”
“I’d better give it you at once,” he said again, offering me money. But
I would not have it. It would be quite time enough for that when the
Arabs were leaving us.
“Because,” he added, “strangers, I know, are sometimes suspicious about
money; and I would not, for worlds, have you think that I would put you
to expense.” I assured him that I did not think so, and then the subject
was dropped.
He was, at any rate, up to his time, for when I came down on the
following morning I found him in the narrow street, the first on
horseback. Joseph, the Frenchman, was strapping on to a rough pony our
belongings, and was staring at Mr. Smith. My new friend, unfortunately,
could not speak a word of French, and therefore I had to explain to the
dragoman how it had come to pass that our party was to be enlarged.
“But the Bedouins will expect full pay for both,” said he, alarmed. Men
in that class, and especially Orientals, always think that every
arrangement of life, let it be made in what way it will, is made with the
intention of saving some expense, or cheating somebody out of some money.
They do not understand that men can have any other object, and are ever
on their guard lest the saving should be made at their cost, or lest they
should be the victims of the fraud.
“All right,” said I.
“I shall be responsible, Monsieur,” said the dragoman, piteously.
“It shall be all right,” said I, again. “If that does not satisfy you,
you may remain behind.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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