The Sheikh of the beggars was an old man, blind from his childhood, but
otherwise strong and full of health, delighting in quarrels and swift to
handle his staff. He had at first become a beggar, being still a young
man, for his father and mother had died without making provision for
him, and he had no brothers. As he boasted that he was of the pure blood
of the desert on both sides, the other beggars jeered at him in the
beginning, calling him Ibn el Sheikh in derision and sometimes stealing
his food from him. But he beat them mightily, the just and the unjust
together, since he could not see, and acquired great consideration
amongst them, after which he behaved generously, giving his share with
the rest for the common good, and something more. His companions learned
also that his story was true and that his blood was as good as any from
Ajman to El Kara, for a Bedouin of the same tribe as Abdullah, the
husband of Almasta, came to see him not less than once every year, and
called him brother and filled his sack with barley. This Bedouin was a
person of consideration, also, as the beggars saw from his having a mare
of his own, provided with a good saddle, and from his weapons. In the
course of time therefore the blind man grew great in the eyes of his
fellows, until they called him Sheikh respectfully, and waited on him
when he performed his ablutions, and he obtained over them a supremacy
as great as was Khaled's over the kingdom he governed. He was very wise
also, acquainted with the interpretation of dreams, and able to recite
various chapters of the Koran. It was even said that he was able to
distinguish a good man from a bad by the sound of his tread, though some
thought that he only heard the jingling of coins in the girdle, and
judged by this, having a finer hearing than other men. At all events he
was often aware that a person able to give alms was approaching, while
his companions were talking among themselves and noticed nothing, though
they had eyes to see, being mostly only cripples and lepers.
On a certain day in the spring, when the sun was beginning to be hot and
not long after Khaled had told Zehowah his story, many of the beggars
were sitting in the eastern gate, by which the great road issues out of
the city towards Hasa. They expected the coming of the first pilgrims
every day, for the season was advancing. And now they sat talking
together of the good prospects before them, and rejoicing that the
winter was over so that they would not suffer any more from the cold.
'There is a horseman on the road,' said the Sheikh of the beggars,
interrupting the conversation. 'O you to whom Allah has preserved the
light of day, look forth and tell me who the rider is.'
'It is undoubtedly a pilgrim,' answered a young beggar, who was a
stranger but had found his way to Riad without legs, no man knew how.
'Ass of Egypt,' replied the Sheikh reprovingly, 'do pilgrims ride at a
full gallop upon steeds of pure blood? But though your eyes are open
your ears are deaf with the sleep of stupidity from which there is no
awakening. That is a good horse, ridden by a light rider. Truly a man
must itch to be called Haji who gallops thus on the road to Mecca.'
Then the others looked, and at last one of them spoke, a hunchback
having but one eye, but that one was keen.
'O Sheikh,' he said, 'rejoice and praise Allah, for I think it is he
whom you call your brother, who comes in from the desert to visit you.'
'If that is the case, I will indeed give thanks,' answered the blind
man, 'for there is little in my barley-sack, less in my wallet and
nothing at all in my stomach. Allah is gracious and compassionate!'
The hunchback's eye had not deceived him, and before long the Bedouin
dismounted at the gate and looked about until he saw the Sheikh of the
beggars, who indeed had already risen to welcome him. When they had
embraced the Bedouin led the blind man along in the shadow of the
eastern wall until they were so far from the rest that they might freely
talk without being overheard. Then they sat down together, and the mare
stood waiting before them.
'O my brother,' the Bedouin began, 'was not my mother the adopted
daughter of your uncle, upon whom be peace? And have I not called you
brother and filled your barley-sack from time to time these many years?'
'This is true,' answered the Sheikh of the beggars. 'Allah will requite
you with seventy thousand days of unspeakable bliss for every grain of
barley you have caused to pass my teeth. "Be constant in prayer and in
giving alms," says the holy book, "and you shall find with Allah all the
good which you have sent before you, for your souls." And it is also
said, "Give alms to your kindred, and to the poor and to orphans." I am
also grateful for all you have done, and my gratitude grows as a palm
tree in the garden of my soul which is irrigated by your charity.'
'It is well, my brother, it is well. I know the uprightness of your
heart, and I have not ridden hither from the desert to count the
treasure which may be in store for me in paradise. Allah knows the
good, as well as the evil. I have come for another purpose. But tell me
first, what is the news in the city? Are there no strange rumours afloat
of late concerning Khaled the Sultan?'
'In each man's soul there are two wells,' said the blind man. 'The one
is the spring of truth, the other is the fountain of lies.'
'You are wise and full of years,' said the Bedouin, 'and I understand
your caution, for I also am not very young. But here we must speak
plainly, for the time is short in which to act. A sand-storm has
darkened the eyes of the men of the desert and they are saying that
Khaled is a Shiyah, a Persian and a robber, and that he must be
overthrown and a man of our own people made king in his stead.'
'I have indeed heard such a rumour.'
'It is more than a rumour. The tribes are even now assembling towards
Riad, and before many days are past the end will come. Abdullah is the
chief mover in this. But with your help, my brother, we will make his
plotting empty and his scheming fruitless as a twig of ghada stuck into
the sand, which will neither strike root nor bear leaves.'
When the Sheikh of the beggars heard that he was expected to give help
in frustrating Abdullah's plans he was troubled and much astonished.
'Shall the blind sheep go out and fight the lion?' he inquired
tremulously.
'Even so,' replied the Bedouin unmoved, 'and, moreover, without danger
to himself. Hear me first. Abdullah and his tribe will encamp in the low
hills, in a few days, as usual, but somewhat earlier than in other
years, and a great number of other Bedouins will be in the neighbouring
valleys at the same time. Then Abdullah will come into the city openly
and go to his house with his wife and slaves, and during several days he
will receive the visits of his friends and return them, and go to the
palace and salute Khaled, as though nothing were about to happen. But in
the meantime he will make everything ready, for it is his intention to
go into the palace at night, disguised in a woman's garment, with his
wife, and they will slay Khaled in his sleep, and bind Zehowah, and
distribute much treasure among the guards and slaves, and before morning
the city will be full of Bedouins all ready to proclaim Abdullah Sultan.
And you alone can prevent all this.'
But the blind man laughed in his beard.
'This is a good jest!' he cried. 'You have sought out a valiant warrior
to stand between the Sultan and death! I am blind and old, and a beggar,
and you would have me stand in the path of Abdullah and a thousand armed
men. They would certainly laugh, as I do. Let me take with me a few
lepers and the Egyptian jackass without legs, who has flown among us
lately like a locust out of the clear air. Verily, their strength shall
avail against the lances of the desert.'
'This is no jest, my brother,' answered the Bedouin, gravely. 'Neither
I, nor a hundred armed horsemen with me could do what you will do
unhurt. But I will save Khaled. For in the battle of the pass before we
came to Hail last summer when I had an arrow in my right arm and a spear
thrust in my side, certain dogs of Shammars encompassed me, and darkness
was already descending upon my eyes when Khaled rode in like a whirlwind
of scythes, and sent four of them to hell, where they are now drinking
molten brass like thirsty camels. Then I swore by Allah that I would
defend him in the hour of need.'
'Why do you not then lie in wait for Abdullah yourself and slay him as
he passes you in the dark?'
'Is he not the sheikh of my tribe? How then can I lay a hand on him? But
I have thought of this during many nights in my tent, and you alone can
do what is needed.'
'Surely this is folly,' said the Sheikh of the beggars. 'You have met a
hot wind in the desert and your mind is unsettled by it. I pray you come
with me into the city to my dwelling, and take some refreshment, or at
least let me send to the well for a drink of water.'
'My head is cool and I am not thirsty, nor is the hot wind blowing at
this time of year. Hear me. I will tell you how to save Khaled from
destruction, and you shall receive more gold than you have dreamed of,
and a house, and rich garments, and a young wife of a good family to
comfort your old age. For the deed is easy and safe, but the reward will
be great, and you alone can do the one and earn the other.'
'I perceive,' said the blind man, 'that you are indeed in earnest, but I
cannot understand what I can do. We know that Khaled is forewarned, for
it is not many days since he summoned the chief men in Riad, with the
Kadi, to the palace, and refused to tell them the name of his father,
but said that if they attacked him he would kill as many of them as he
could.'
'I did not know this,' answered the Bedouin. 'But the knowledge does not
change my plan. Now hear me. You are the Sheikh of all the beggars in
Riad--may Allah send you long life and much gain--they are an army and
you are a captain. Moreover the beggars are doubtless attached to Khaled
by his generosity, and all of you say in your hearts that under Abdullah
there may be more sticks and less barley for you.'
'This is true. But then, my brother, it is otherwise with you, for you
are of Abdullah's tribe and will have honour and riches if he is made
Sultan. How then is my advantage also yours?'
'And did not this Abdullah in the first place divorce with ignominy his
second wife, who is my kinswoman, being the daughter of my father's
sister? And has he restored the dowry as the law commands? Truly his new
wife is even now sitting upon my cousin's carpet. And secondly Abdullah
made himself sheikh unjustly, for our sheikh should be Abdul Kerim's
son.'
'Yet you accepted Abdullah and promised him allegiance.'
'Does the camel say to his driver: "I do not like to carry a load of
barley, I would rather bear a basket of dates"? "Eat what you please in
your tent, but dress as other men," says the proverb. Hear me, for I
speak wisdom. Abdullah will come into the city and go to his house,
intending to prepare the way for evil. And he will walk about the
streets as usual, without attendants, both because he knows that the
people are mostly with him, and also in order not to attract notice. Now
Abdullah is the spring from which all this wickedness flows, he is the
chief camel whom the others follow, the coal in the ashes by which the
fire is kept alive, the head without which the body cannot live. Dry up
the spring, therefore, let the chief camel fall into a pit suddenly,
extinguish the coal, strike off the head. Let them ask in the morning:
"Where is he?" And let him not be found anywhere. Then the people will
be amazed and will not know what to do, having no leader. This is for
you to do, and it can easily be done.'
'What folly is this?' asked the blind man, shaking his head. 'And how
can I do what you wish?'
'It is very easy, for I know that you and your companions are as one
man, living together for the common good. Go to the beggars therefore
and tell them what I have told you, and be not afraid, for they will not
betray you. And when Abdullah walks about the city alone lie in wait for
him, for you will easily catch him in a narrow street, and two or three
score of you can run after him begging for alms, until he is surrounded
on all sides. Then fall upon him, and bind him, and take him secretly to
one of your dwellings and keep him there, so that none find him, until
the storm is past. In this way you will save Khaled and the kingdom, and
when all is quiet you can deliver him up to be a laughing-stock at the
palace and to all who believed in him. For there is nothing to fear, and
I, for my part, am sure that Abdul Kerim's son will immediately be made
sheikh of our tribe so that Abdullah will not return to us.'
'You are subtle, my brother,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, smiling
and stroking his beard. 'This is a good plan, being very simple, and
Khaled will be grateful to us, and honour us beggars exceedingly. Said I
not well that the jest was good? Surely it is better than I had thought,
and more profitable.'
'I have thought of it long in the nights of winter, both by the camp
fire and in my tent and on the march. But I have told no one, nor will
tell any one until all is done. But so soon as you have taken Abdullah
and hidden him, let me know of it. To this end, when we are encamped
outside the city I will come every evening to prayers in the great
mosque and afterwards will wait for you near the door. As soon as I know
that Abdullah is out of finding I will spread the report that he is
lost, and before long all our tribe will give up the search, being
indeed glad to get rid of him. And the rest is in the hand of Allah. I
have done what I can, you must now do your share.'
'By Allah! You shall not complain of me,' answered the blind man, 'nor
of my people, for the jest is surpassingly good, and shall be well
carried out.'
'I will therefore go into the city, where I have business,' said the
Bedouin. 'For I gave a reason for coming alone to Riad, and must needs
show myself there to those who know me.'
So the Bedouin filled the blind beggar's sack with barley and dates from
his own supply and embraced him and went into the city, but the Sheikh
of the beggars remained sitting in the same place for some time, at a
distance from the rest, in an attitude of inward contemplation, though
he was in reality listening to what the hunchback was telling the new
cripple from Egypt. The Sheikh's ears were sharper than those of other
men and he heard very clearly what was said.
'This Bedouin,' said the hunchback, 'is a near relation of our Sheikh,
and holds him in great veneration, coming frequently to see him even
from a considerable distance, and always bringing him a present of food.
And you may see by his mare and by his weapons that he is a person of
consideration in his tribe. For our Sheikh is not a negro, nor the son
of a Syrian camel-driver, but an Arab of the best blood in the desert,
and wise enough to sit in the council in the Sultan's palace. You, who
are but lately arrived, being transported into our midst by the mercy of
Allah, must learn all these things, and you will also find out that our
Sheikh has eyes in his ears, and in his fingers and in his staff, though
he is counted blind, and you cannot deceive him easily as you might
suppose.'
The Sheikh of the beggars was pleased when he heard this and listened
attentively to hear the answer made by the Egyptian, whom he did not yet
trust because he was a newcomer and a stranger.
'Truly,' replied the cripple, 'Allah has been merciful and
compassionate to me, for he has brought me into the society of the wise
and the good, which is better than much feasting in the company of the
ignorant and the ill-mannered. And as for the Sheikh, he is evidently a
very holy man, to whom eyes are not in any way necessary, his inward
sight being constantly fixed upon heavenly things.'
This answer did not altogether please the blind man, for it savoured
somewhat of flattery. But the other beggars approved of the speech,
deeming that it showed a submissive spirit, and readiness to obey and
respect their chief.
'O you of Egypt!' cried the Sheikh, calling to him. 'Come here and sit
beside me, for I have heard what you said and desire your company.'
The cripple immediately began to crawl along by the wall, dragging
himself upon his hands and body, for he had no legs.
'He is obedient,' thought the blind man, 'though it costs him much
labour to move.'
When the man was beside him, the Sheikh took an onion and a date from
his wallet and set them down upon the ground.
'Eat,' he said, 'and give thanks.'
The cripple thanked him and taking the food, began to eat the onion.
'You have taken the onion in your right hand and the date in your
left,' said the Sheikh. 'And you are eating the onion first.'
'This is true,' answered the Egyptian. 'I see that my lord has indeed
eyes in his fingers.'
'I have,' said the Sheikh. 'But that is not all, for this is an
allegory. All men like to eat the onion first and the date afterwards,
for though the onion be ever so sweet and tender, its taste is bitter
when a man has eaten sugar-dates before it. But you have begun by giving
us the mellow fruit of flattery, and when you give us the wholesome
vegetable of truth it will be too sharp for our palates. Ponder this in
your heart, chew it as the camel does her cud, and the well-digested
food of wisdom shall nourish your understanding.'
The cripple listened in astonishment at the depth of the Sheikh's
thought, and he would have spoken out his admiration, but it is not
possible to eat an onion and to be eloquent at the same time. The blind
man knew this and continued to give him instruction.
'The onion has saved you,' he said, 'for your mouth being full you could
say nothing flattering, and now you will think before you speak.
Consider how I have treated you. Have I at once rendered thanks to Allah
for sending into our midst a young man whose gifts of eloquence are at
least equal to those of the Kadi himself? I have said nothing so
foolish. I have called you an ass of Egypt and otherwise rebuked you,
for the good of your understanding, though I begin to think that you are
indeed a very estimable young man, and it is possible that your wit may
ripen in our society. But now I perceive by my hearing that you are
eating the date. I pray you now, eat another onion after it.'
'I cannot,' answered the cripple, 'for my lips are puckered at the
thought of it.'
'Neither is truth sweet after flattery,' said the Sheikh, who then began
to eat the other onion himself.
'I will endeavour to profit by your precepts, my lord,' replied the
Egyptian.
'Allah will then certainly enlighten you, my son. Remember also another
thing. We are ourselves here a community, distinct from the citizens of
Riad, and what we do, we do for the common good. Remember therefore to
share what you receive with the rest, as they will share what they have
with you, and take part with them in whatsoever is done by common
consent. In this way it will be well with you and you shall grow fat;
but if you are against us you will find evil in every man's hand, for
since it has pleased Allah to give you no legs, you cannot possibly run
away.'
Having said this much the Sheikh of the beggars was silent. But
afterwards on the same day he gathered about him the strongest of his
companions, being mostly men who had the use of both arms and both
legs, though some of them were lepers and some had but one eye, and some
were deaf and dumb, according to the affliction which it had pleased
Allah to send upon each. These were the most trusty and faithful of his
people, and to them he communicated openly what the Bedouin had proposed
to him in secret. All of them approved the plan, for they greatly feared
the overthrow of Khaled.
'But,' said one, 'we cannot keep this Abdullah for ever, and we can
surely not kill him, for we should bring upon ourselves a grievous
punishment.'
'Allah forbid that we should shed blood,' replied the Sheikh. 'But when
Abdul Kerim's son is made Sheikh of the tribe, Abdullah will probably
not wish to go back to his people. Moreover it shall be for Khaled to
judge what shall be done to the man, and he will probably cut off his
head. But in the meantime it is necessary to choose amongst us spies,
two for each gate of the city, to the number of twenty-two men, to watch
for Abdullah. For we do not know when he will come, and of the two spies
who see him enter, both must follow him and see whither he goes, and
then the one will immediately inform all the rest while the other waits
for him. From the time he enters the city he will not be able to go
anywhere without our knowledge, and we shall certainly catch him one day
towards dusk in some narrow street of the city.'
The beggars saw that this plan was wise and safe for themselves, and
they did as the Sheikh advised, posting men at all the gates to wait for
Abdullah. He was, indeed, not far distant, and before many days he rode
into the city towards evening, attended by a few slaves and two
Bedouins, his wife Almasta riding in the midst of them upon a camel. His
face was not hidden and the two beggars who were watching recognised him
immediately. They both followed him, until he entered his own house, and
then the one sat down in the street to watch until he should come out,
asking alms of those who accompanied him, until they also went in, with
the beasts. But the other made haste to find the Sheikh and to inform
him that Abdullah had come and was now in his own dwelling.
'It is well,' said the blind man. 'The cat is now asleep, and dreams of
mice, but he shall wake in the midst of dogs. Abdullah will not leave
his house to-night, for it is late, and though he is not afraid in the
daytime, he will not go out much at night, lest a secret messenger from
Khaled, bearing evil in his hand, should meet him by the way. But
to-morrow before dawn, some of us will wait in the neighbourhood of his
house, and two or three score of others feigning to be all blind, as I
am, must always be near at hand, watching us. We will then begin to
importune him for alms, flattering him with fine language, as though we
knew his plans. And this we will do continually, when he is abroad,
until one day to escape from us he will turn quickly into a narrow
street, supposing that we cannot see him. For he will not wish to be
pursued by our cries in the bazar lest he be obliged for shame to give
something to each. Then those who can see will open their eyes and we
will catch him in the lane, and bind rags over his head so that he
cannot cry out, and lead him away to my dwelling by the Yemamah gate.
And if any meet us by the way and inquire whom we are taking with us, we
will say that he is one of ourselves, who is an epileptic and has fallen
down in a fit, and that we are taking him to the farrier's by the gate,
to be burned with red-hot irons for his recovery, as the physicians
recommend in such cases. Surely we have now foreseen most things, but if
we have forgotten anything, Allah will doubtless provide.'
All the beggars in council approved this plan, for they saw that it
could be easily carried out, if they could only catch Abdullah in a
lonely street at the hour of prayer when few persons are passing.
But Abdullah himself was ignorant of the evil in store for him, and
feared nothing, having been secretly informed that most of the better
sort of people were ready to support him if he would strike the blow;
for they suspected Khaled of being a traitor, especially since he had
last addressed the chief men and refused to tell the name of his father.
Abdullah therefore came and went openly in the city.
In the meantime, however, Khaled was informed of his presence and was
warned of the danger. The aged Kadi came secretly by night to the palace
and desired to be received by the Sultan in order to communicate to him
news of great importance, as he said. Khaled immediately received him,
and the Kadi proceeded to give a full account of Abdullah's designs; but
the Sultan expressed no astonishment.
'Let him do what he will,' he answered, 'for I care little and, after
all, what must be will be.'
'But I beseech you to consider,' said the Kadi, 'that by acting promptly
you could easily quell this revolution, in which I, by Allah, have no
part and will have none. For though many persons may just now desire
your overthrow, because they expect to get a share of the treasure in
the confusion, yet few are disposed to accept such a man as Abdullah ibn
Mohammed el Herir in your place. Even his own tribe are not all faithful
to him, and I am credibly informed that many look upon him as an
intruder, and would prefer the son of Abdul Kerim for sheikh, as would
be just, if the rights of birth were considered. And it would be an easy
matter to remove this Abdullah. I implore you to think of the matter.'
'Would this not be a murder?' asked Khaled, looking curiously at the
venerable preacher.
'Allah is merciful and forgiving,' replied the old man, looking down and
stroking his beard. 'And moreover, if you suffer Abdullah to go about a
few days longer he will certainly destroy you, whereas it is an easy
matter to give him a cup of such good drink as will save him from thirst
ever afterwards, and you would obtain quiet and the kingdom would be at
peace.'
'They shall not find me sleeping,' said Khaled, 'and so that I may only
slay a score of them first, I care not how soon I perish.'
'This is indeed a new kind of madness!' exclaimed the Kadi. 'I cannot
understand it. But I have done what I could, and I can do nothing more.'
'Nor is there anything more to be done,' said Khaled. 'But I thank you,
for it is clear that you have spoken from a good intention.'
So the Kadi went away again, and Khaled returned to Zehowah, caring not
at all whether he lived or died. But Zehowah began to watch him
narrowly.
'If this man were a Persian, an enemy and a traitor,' she thought, 'he
would now begin to take measures for his own safety, seeing that he is
threatened on every side. Yet he does not lift a hand to defend himself.
This can proceed only from one of two causes. Either he is a Jinn, as
he has told me, and they cannot kill him, and so he does not fear them;
or else he desires death, out of a sort of madness which has grown up in
him through this love of which he is always speaking.'