The whole of this scene was repeated to Barca Gana in his tent in the evening, and they all exclaimed “Wonderful! Wonderful!” and as I did not contradict any part of his account, the fighi thus addressed me: “Rais, you have seen a miracle! I will show you hundreds, performed alone by the words of the wonderful book! You have a book also, you say, but it must be false.—Why? Because it says nothing of Saidna Mohammed, that is enough.—_Shed! Shed!_ turn! turn! say ‘God is God, and Mohammed is his prophet.’ Sully (wash), and become clean, and paradise is open to you: without this, what can save you from eternal fire? Nothing!—Oh! I shall see you while sitting in the third heaven, in the midst of the flames, crying out to your friend Barca Gana and myself, ‘_Malem, saherbi!_ (friend), give me a drink or a drop of water!’ but the gulf will be between us, and then it will be too late.” The Malem’s tears flowed in abundance during this harangue, and every body appeared affected by his eloquence. I felt myself, at this period, extremely uncomfortable; and Barca Gana, who saw my distress, called me into the inner tent, where nobody accompanied him, except by invitation. “The fighi,” said he, “is a _rajal alem_ (clever man).” “Very likely,” said I; “but he surely might leave me to my own belief, as I leave him to his.” “_Staffer Allah!_” (God forbid!) said he. “Do not compare them.” “I do not,” said I, “God knows; but you, Kashella, should protect me from such repeated annoyances.” “No,” replied Barca, “in this I cannot interfere. Malem is a holy man. Please God! you will be enlightened, and I know the sheikh wishes it; he likes you, and would you stay amongst us, he would give you fifty slaves of great beauty, build you a house like his son’s, and give you wives from the families of any of his subjects you choose!” “Were you to return to England with me, Kashella, as you sometimes talk about, with the sheikh’s permission, would it not be disgraceful for you to turn Christian, and remain? Were I to do as you would have me, how should I answer to my sultan who sent me?” “God forbid!” said he; “you are comparing our faiths again. I propose to you eternal paradise, while you would bring me to ——.” “Not a word more,” said I.—“Good night!” “Peace be with you! I hope we shall always be friends,” said he. “Please God!” returned I. “Amen!” said the kashella.