"In that event," I crooned quaveringly, "O tree of pearls, the veil could never be thine; for the merchant Ali Mohammed, who awaits me at the gate, refuses to deliver it up until the price agreed upon has been placed in his hands." "He is a Jew, and a son of Jews, who eats without washing! a devourer of pork, and an unclean insect," she cried. She extended the jeweled hand towards the girl who stood behind me and who, having loosened her wraps, proved to be a comely but shrewd-looking Assyrian. "Let the money be counted into the bag," she ordered, "that we may be rid of the presence of this garrulous and hideous old hag." "O fountain of justice," I exclaimed; "O peerless _houri_, to behold whom is to swoon with delight and rapture." From a locked closet the Assyrian girl took a wooden coffer, and before my gratified eyes began to count out upon the little table notes and gold until a pile lay there to have choked a miser with emotion. (The ready-money transactions of the East have always delighted me.) But, with the chinking of the last piece of gold upon the pile-- "There is no more," said the girl. "It is one hundred pounds short." "It is more than enough!" cried Sháhmarâh. "I am ruined. Give me the veil and go." "O vision of paradise," I exclaimed in anguish, "the merchant Ali Mohammed would never consent. In lieu of the remainder"--I pointed to the antique enamel in her turban--"give me the brooch from thy _rabtah_." "O sink of corruption!" was her response, her whole body positively quivering with rage, "it is not for thy filthy claws. Here!"--she pulled a ring containing a fair-sized emerald from one of her fingers and tossed it contemptuously upon the pile of money--"thou art more than repaid. The veil! the veil!" I turned to the girl who had counted out the gold. "O minor moon, whom even the glory of paradise cannot dim," I said, "put the money in the wallet, for my hands are old and infirm, and give it to me." The Assyrian scooped the gold and notes into the leather bag with the utmost unconcern, and as though she had been shelling peas into a basket. The profound disregard for wealth exhibited in the _harêm_ of Yûssuf Bey was extraordinary; and I mentally endorsed the opinion expressed by Abû Tabâh that the ruin of the Bey was imminent. Securing the heavy wallet to the girdle which I wore beneath my veilings, I placed upon the table where the money had lain a small silken packet. "Here is the veil," I said; "for my story of the merchant, Ali Mohammed, who had refused to yield it up, was but a stratagem to test the generosity of thy soul, as thy refusal to give me the price agreed upon was but a subterfuge to test my honesty." Heedless of the words, Sháhmarâh snatched up the packet, tore off the wrappings, and in a trice was standing upright before me wearing the _yashmak_ of pearls. I think I had never seen a figure more barbarically lovely than that of this soulless Egyptian so adorned.