One of the circle, who was called the Pearl, told with much childish lamentation how he had been wrongfully accused of theft, and beaten by his master. “I know well the thief,” he blubbered. “And my back is sore. I would see him punished. Is it right that I inform my master?” Then their head, that was the doorkeeper of the Frank physician, stroked his beard and answered thoughtfully: “To steal is not good. Where I was born, they cut off the right hand of him who steals. But here it is otherwise. Here be many thieves, very wicked men.... Inform not against thy fellow-servant, now that thy trial is past. In the moment of pain it had been well enough to name him. Thou art young, O Pearl, and strong, none like thee. Take that thief apart, and beat him even as thou wast beaten, that he sin no more.” When the negroes ceased to praise God for that wise judgment, another cause was brought forward. But Zeyd heard no more. Watching the blush fade upon those distant heights, the wall of his own land, he sat entranced by the mystery of being. The buzz of voices ceased. He heard as if in a dream the voice of Ismaìl say: “Deign now to instruct us, O master!” “It is I who have received instruction, O thou Locman of this age,” replied Shems-ud-dìn; and the tones of his voice unclosed Zeyd’s consciousness, like the sun’s touch on a flower. “Allah is with you simple ones. Verily the mercy of Allah is the free spring of the poor.” And he continued speaking of the mercy of Allah in such splendid terms that Zeyd caught fire at them and seemed inspired, he also crying: “Hear him!” “O Allah!” “O Lord!” “His mouth is gold!” “Praise to Allah!” “I faint!” “I die!” moaning and sighing gustily like one possessed. The end of the speech was for Zeyd like a dazed awakening. He saw the negroes rise, a dark mass, and heard them praise Allah for that grand discourse. Then he saw Mâs with the lantern lighted, and thereby knew that it was night and time to move. The light danced and wavered before him, a thing unreal. They were back in the heart of the city ere he knew they had passed the gate. Mâs and the sheykh of the negroes stalked on ahead, the lantern between them. Zeyd himself followed close upon Shems-ud-dìn. All at once he remembered that they were going now to the khan, to the companions, and a sudden jealousy inflamed him. He said, “O my master, where is the youth Shibli, thy disciple? This day makes the second that he has not been near thee. He grows bad with the Circassians, who set their minds to corrupt him.” “Hassan Agha has much business. And it is natural that Shibli should desire to see the city in his company.” “And thy son. May Allah guard me from begetting one like him. Since the day of our arrival he has not once visited thee.” “Doubtless he has been at the khan in my absence.” “Not so, for I have made inquiry.” “He has his duties, and the pleasures of his age. He is young, I am old. In distress I ask no company save thine, O kind one!”