'Praise be to Allah, we have been enabled to do a little service for your Highness,' cried the sergeant. Therewith he pounced upon my hand and kissed it. I made them both sit down and called for coffee. Between the two of them, I heard the story. The sergeant praised Rashid's intelligence in going out and crying in a public place until the city and its whole police force had a share in his distress. Rashid, on his side, said that all that would have been in vain but for the sergeant's knowledge of the cabman's house. The sergeant, with a chuckle, owned that that same knowledge would have been of no effect had not Rashid once more displayed his keen intelligence. They had poured into the house--a single room, illumined only by a saucer lamp upon the ground--and searched it thoroughly, the cabman all the while protesting his great innocence, and swearing he had never in this world beheld a whip like that described. The soldiers, finding no whip, were beginning to believe his word when Rashid, who had remained aloof, observing that the cabman's wife stood very still beneath her veils, assailed her with a mighty push, which sent her staggering across the room. The whip was then discovered. It had been hidden underneath her petticoats. They had given the delinquent a good beating then and there. Would that be punishment enough in my opinion? asked the sergeant. We decided that the beating was enough. I gave the sergeant a small present when he left. Rashid went with him, after carefully concealing the now famous whip. I suppose they went off to some tavern to discuss the wonderful adventure more at length; for I supped alone, and had been some time stretched upon my mattress on the floor before Rashid came in and spread his bed beside me. 'Art thou awake, O my dear lord?' he whispered. 'By Allah, thou didst wrong to give that sergeant any money. I had made thy name so great that but to look on thee was fee sufficient for a poor, lean dog like him.' He then was silent for so long a while that I imagined he had gone to sleep. But, suddenly, he whispered once again: 'O my dear lord, forgive me the disturbance, but hast thou our revolver safe?' 'By Allah, yes! Here, ready to my hand.' 'Good. But it would be better for the future that I should bear our whip and our revolver. I have made thy name so great that thou shouldst carry nothing.' CHAPTER IV THE COURTEOUS JUDGE