“‘To the most illustrious, the most glorious, the most renowned, the most honored Excellency Abd-ur-Rahman Bey, the most respectable, may Allah preserve him ever!’ So it is written, O my uncles!” And those simple ones heard with rapture, heads bowed as at a blessing. Then the messenger sprang into the saddle, and, under guidance of a barelegged youth, rode off with a clatter up the stony path between the houses, out by olive groves to the open hill whose brow cut sharp upon the last of sunset. When the messenger returned, it was the third hour of night. Shems-ud-dìn sat in the guest room of the village, observed and questioned untiringly by the group of elders. A throng of women, children, and the younger men pressed to the open door, craning their necks to peer within. All those bearded faces lighted from below by a saucer lamp upon the floor in their midst, backed by gigantic shadows, seemed to tower upward indefinitely. The messenger bowed low on entering, his hand on his breast. Shems-ud-dìn bent forward eagerly. “The answer, O my son! Give me the answer. I praise Allah for thy safe return.” “There is no answer, O my lord,” replied the messenger wearily. “On arrival in the city I rode at once to the tower where the soldiers lodge. There I made inquiry of one who stood guard, and he said, ‘O my uncle, his Excellency the Bey was within here a while since, but whether he be still here or be gone to his own place, enter thou and discover, for I cannot certify thee.’ So I gave my horse to the boy, my companion, to hold—a good boy and a useful; his father is blest in him—and entered in at the gate, questioning all I met. At last came one who assured me that the Bey was gone to his dwelling in the city, and described the house to me and named the quarter and street in which it stood. So I went back again to my horse and repeated the description of the house and its whereabouts to the boy, my companion, who led me by night ways full of snarling dogs, till we came to the house. “From within came sounds of feasting with song and the voice of the lute. I knocked upon the gate till there looked forth an old man, to whom I showed the letter and its superscription. He went from me, and came again and told me, saying: “‘His Honor the Bey makes merry with his friends. He will not be disturbed. Deign to confide the letter to me, and I will give it to him in the morning when he will hear my voice.’ “So, seeing that the man was old and of a kind countenance, I thought good to give him the letter. “Then, as I came out from the city, the boy leading me—for alone I had been as a blind bird in a net—two soldiers at the gate would have stopped me, asking my business, and for what cause I rode forth armed. But the boy slipped past them, and cried to me, and when they turned to see who cried without, I put spurs to my horse and galloped by, upsetting one of them. “The tale is finished, O my master.”