We lay one night in the house of a man of the Sa'нd or Upper Egypt, and he entertained us and entreated us hospitably. Now he was a very old man swart with exceeding swarthiness, and he had little children, who were white, of a white dashed with red. So we said to him, "Harkye, such an one, how cometh it that these thy children are white, whilst thou thyself art passing swart?" and he said, "Their mother was a Frankish woman, whom I took prisoner in the days of Al-Malik al-Nбsir Salбh al-Dнn,[FN#28] after the battle of Hattнn,[FN#29] when I was a young man." We asked, "And how gottest thou her?" and he answered, "I had a rare adventure with her." Quoth we, "Favour us with it;" and quoth he, "With all my heart! You must know that I once sowed a crop of flax in these parts and pulled it and scutched it and spent on it five hundred gold pieces; after which I would have sold it, but could get no more than this therefor, and the folk said to me, 'Carry it to Acre: for there thou wilt haply make good gain by it.' Now Acre was then in the hands of the Franks; [FN#30] so I carried my flax thither and sold part of it at six months' credit. One day, as I was selling, behold, there came up a Frankish woman (now 'tis the custom of the women of the Franks to go about the market streets with unveiled faces), to buy flax of me, and I saw of her beauty what dazed my wits. So I sold her somewhat of flax and was easy with her concerning the price; and she took it and went away. Some days after, she returned and bought somewhat more flax of me and I was yet easier with her about the price; and she repeated her visits to me, seeing that I was in love with her. Now she was used to walk in company of an old woman to whom I said, "I am sore enamoured of thy mistress. Canst thou contrive for me to enjoy her?" Quoth she, 'I will contrive this for thee; but the secret must not go beyond us three, me, thee and her; and there is no help but that thou be lavish with money, to boot.' And I answered, saying, 'Though my life were the price of her favours 'twere no great matter.'" — And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say. When it was the Eight Hundred and Ninety-Fifth Night,