“Ah! Now I see new virtues in your religion, since we Moslems do not
find such friends among those women who are neither our mothers nor our
sisters. Evidently the Christian faith must have power to change the
nature of women, which I thought to be impossible. Well, General Olaf, I
will consider of your case, and I may tell you that I have good hopes of
finding a medicine by which it can be cured, all save your sight, which
in this world God Himself cannot give back to you. Now I have a favour
to ask. I see that in this room of yours there is a curtain hiding the
bed of the servant who sleeps with you. I desire to see another patient
here, and that this patient should not see you. Of your goodness will
you sit upon the bed behind that curtain, and will you swear to me on
your honour as a soldier that whatever you may hear you will in no way
reveal yourself?”
“Surely, that is if it is nothing which will bring disgrace upon my head
or name.”
“It will be nothing to bring disgrace on your head or name, General
Olaf, though perhaps it may bring some sorrow to your heart. As yet I
cannot say.”
“My heart is too full of sorrow to hold more,” I answered.
Then he led me down to the guard’s bed, on which I sat myself down,
being strangely interested in this play. He drew the curtain in front of
me, and I heard him return to the centre of the room and clap his hands.
Someone entered, saying,
“High Lord, your will?”
“Silence!” he exclaimed, and began to whisper orders, while I wondered
what kind of a physician this might be who was addressed as “High Lord.”
The servant went, and, after a while of waiting that seemed long, once
more the door was opened, and I heard the sweep of a woman’s dress upon
the carpet.
“Be seated, Lady,” said the grave voice of the physician, “for I have
words to say to you.”
“Sir, I obey,” answered another voice, at the sound of which my heart
stood still. It was that of Heliodore.
“Lady,” went on the physician, “as my robe will tell you, I am a doctor
of medicine. Also, as it chances, I am something more, namely, an envoy
appointed by the Caliph Harun-al-Rashid, having full powers to deal
with your case. Here are my credentials if you care to read them,” and I
heard a crackling as of parchment being unfolded.
“Sir,” answered Heliodore, “I will read the letters later. For the
present I accept your word. Only I would ask one question, if it pleases
you to answer. Why have not I and the General Olaf been conveyed to
the presence of the Caliph himself, as was commanded by the Emir
Obaidallah?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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