“There is with us a maiden, very ill. We have come from far that she may be healed by the Frank physician. Her nurse is with her in the litter. Let them in, we beseech thee, to the presence of thy lord. We bring gifts, and the father of the girl, that sheykh behind there, is very rich. It will be worth much to thy lord if he can heal her.” “Are you Jews?” “Allah forbid!” “Is the sufferer of that race?” “Allah forbid! Why askest thou? Why lookest thou so strangely? Art thou, perchance, thyself of the dregs of mankind?” “What matter for me? I am but the doorkeeper. But all those who pass within to be healed or die, as Allah wills, must be Jews and Jews only. It is the law of the English to whom this house belongs.” “Ma sh’ Allah! Knowest thou, O old man, that this hospital of thine is a place unclean, a place of sin, no better than a lair of filthy swine?” “I know nothing. I am the doorkeeper. They pay me monthly wages, and my task is light. I say they are good people. They can do what they please, for me.... It is plain you are from the country, or you would not be surprised and angry at such little things.” And he smiled the superior smile of the townsman. “The physician! Ask concerning the physician. I would speak to him without delay,” called Shems-ud-dìn, pushing his way on foot to the front. “He will tell you the same which I tell you—only Jews enter here.... But as for a physician—ah, I assure you—he is a physician—none like him under heaven! By Allah, one touch of him cures any disease less malignant than death itself! Go to his house, I advise you; it is not far from here. It is likely he will show mercy to you, for he is a kind young man. Come, I will teach you the way thither. I am the doorkeeper, and cannot quit my post. But perhaps I can find one to guide your honors.... O black man, thou canst never turn those mules in the alley there. Lead through into the court where there is room enough. There they can turn at ease, and the poor, sick lady—may Allah heal her—shall not be inconvenienced. Take care now! Oäh! Heed this little step.” In a trice the old doorkeeper had become all politeness, espying a silver coin in the hand of Shems-ud-dìn. A few minutes later the procession stopped once more before a door, that looked lonely in a place of high blind walls. By that time it was accompanied by a crowd of bare-limbed urchins, beggars, and other idle ones. Zeyd, the son of Abbâs, as riding upon an ass in the midst of horsemen, and conspicuous for the wretchedness of his apparel, excited particular admiration in these adherents. When he got down off his steed and went to help Mâs unharness the mules from the litter, they thronged about the despondent animal, touched and examined it closely, as it had been of gold. “Do you covet him, O sons of two walls?” called Hassan, with his mighty laugh. “His beauty is for sale, but the price is a high one. Be careful not to steal him.”