judged by this, having a finer hearing than other men. At all events he was often aware that a person able to give alms was approaching, while his companions were talking among themselves and noticed nothing, though they had eyes to see, being mostly only cripples and lepers. On a certain day in the spring, when the sun was beginning to be hot and not long after Khaled had told Zehowah his story, many of the beggars were sitting in the eastern gate, by which the great road issues out of the city towards Hasa. They expected the coming of the first pilgrims every day, for the season was advancing. And now they sat talking together of the good prospects before them, and rejoicing that the winter was over so that they would not suffer any more from the cold. 'There is a horseman on the road,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, interrupting the conversation. 'O you to whom Allah has preserved the light of day, look forth and tell me who the rider is.' 'It is undoubtedly a pilgrim,' answered a young beggar, who was a stranger but had found his way to Riad without legs, no man knew how. 'Ass of Egypt,' replied the Sheikh reprovingly, 'do pilgrims ride at a full gallop upon steeds of pure blood? But though your eyes are open your ears are deaf with the sleep of stupidity from which there is no awakening. That is a good horse, ridden by a light rider. Truly a man must itch to be called Haji who gallops thus on the road to Mecca.' Then the others looked, and at last one of them spoke, a hunchback having but one eye, but that one was keen. 'O Sheikh,' he said, 'rejoice and praise Allah, for I think it is he whom you call your brother, who comes in from the desert to visit you.' 'If that is the case, I will indeed give thanks,' answered the blind man, 'for there is little in my barley-sack, less in my wallet and nothing at all in my stomach. Allah is gracious and compassionate!' The hunchback's eye had not deceived him, and before long the Bedouin dismounted at the gate and looked about until he saw the Sheikh of the beggars, who indeed had already risen to welcome him. When they had embraced the Bedouin led the blind man along in the shadow of the eastern wall until they were so far from the rest that they might freely talk without being overheard. Then they sat down together, and the mare stood waiting before them. 'O my brother,' the Bedouin began, 'was not my mother the adopted daughter of your uncle, upon whom be peace? And have I not called you brother and filled your barley-sack from time to time these many years?'