“My peace on thee! Thou art a prince of scholars, and a man most righteous. If I perceive any fault in thee, it is that thy mind exalts small matters, and overlooks or belittles points of real importance—a common failing among us learned in the Law, professed quibblers. This matter of thy going to the Frank is, to my thinking, no trifle. I hope to convince thee of the wrong in it at some other time. Come hither whenever thou art so minded; it is a boon I crave of thee. Ask for Mahmûd Ali, which is my name. And if ever thou desirest to pray alone, there stand cells enough within our precincts, empty, for the most part, save in Ramadan, which is not yet. They and all I dispose of are thine to use, O my soul’s brother!” With a parting benison the old man hobbled away, bowed upon his staff. Shems-ud-dìn said one last prayer, then went out with his companions into the blinding sunlight. Zeyd, the son of Abbâs, raised his hands on high, toward that sapphire dome which has the world for pavement. In a loud voice he praised Allah, and blessed the day on which it had been given him to witness the meeting of two most holy men, and garner in his imagination a drop or two of the celestial wisdom that had gushed in rivers from their mouths. Shibli drew breath of relief, and looked upon the heaped-up, whitish city with a lover’s eyes. CHAPTER XI “Come, O my brothers! Talk is vain when the throat is dry and the belly empty. Lead the way to some place where we can eat together, and drink a cup or two of good coffee. So shall our business prosper by the blessing of Allah.” “But we have no money, O my lord! How should we soldiers have money, seeing they never pay us?” “With me is money enough. Deign to eat and drink at my expense, and mine the honor.” “May Allah Most High repay your noble Excellency!” Two soldiers of a rank somewhat above the private, accosted by Hassan Agha amid the crowd in a long bazaar, laid hand to breast and lip and brow, bowing to his invitation as men too greatly honored. Their tongues still wagged of reluctance and unworthiness even while their feet made speed toward the place of refreshment. Three Circassians, the companions of Hassan’s morning prowl, followed intelligently like trained hounds. Shibli went along with them, mystified yet admiring. The tavern to which they came was chill and dark within. They carried their stools to the wide entrance, where they could enjoy the relative warmth and light of the street without. “Arac, O lord of good cheer! Bring to us arac!” cried the soldiers. “Allah forbid!” murmured Shibli with a start, gazing in horror at those reckless ones. He knew only that they called for a fiery drink and maddening, accounted poison by all faithful men. Thereupon the whole company burst out laughing, and the tavern keeper, attendant on their needs, laughed with them, holding his belly.