“Truly, charitable sir,” replied Giaffar in a humble tone, “We are distressed merchants, strangers in this city, who have lost our way, and fear to be seized by the watch—­perhaps carried before the cadi.  We beseech thee, therefore, to admit us within thy doors, and Allah will reward thy humanity.”

“Admit you within my doors!—­not I, indeed.  What, you wish to get into my house to gormandise and swill at my expense.  Go—­go!”

The caliph laughed heartily at this reply, and then called out to the man, “Indeed we are merchants, and seek but for shelter till the hour of prayer.”

“Tell me, then,” replied the man, “and mind you tell me the truth.  Have you eaten and drunk your fill for the night?”

“Thanks and praise be to Allah, we have supped long since, and heartily,” returned the caliph.

“Since that is the case, you may come up, but recollect it is upon one condition, that you bind yourselves not to open your lips whatever you may see me do; no matter whether it please you or not.”

“What you desire is so reasonable,” called out the caliph, “that we should be ignorant as Yaboos, if we did not at once comply.”

The man gave one more scrutinising glance at the pretended merchants; and then, as if satisfied, descended and opened his door.  The caliph and his attendants followed him up to his room, where they found a table laid out for supper, on which was a large pitcher of wine, half a roasted kid, a bottle of rakee, preserves, confections, and various kinds of fruit; odoriferous flowers were also on the table, and the lighting up of the room was brilliant.  The host, immediately on their entering, tossed off a bumper of wine, as if to make up for the time he had lost, and pointing to a corner, bade the intruders to sit down there, and not to disturb him any more.  He commenced his solitary feast, and after another bumper of wine, as if tired of his own company, he gruffly demanded, “Where do you fellows come from, and whither are you going?”

“Sir,” replied Giaffar, who had been whispering with the caliph, “we are merchants of Moussul, who have been to an entertainment at the country seat of a khan of Bagdad.  We feasted well, and left our friend just as the day closed in.  Whereupon we lost our way, and found ourselves in this street; hearing the musical accents of your voice, we exclaimed, ’Are not those notes delightful?—­one who has so sweet a voice must be equally sweet in disposition.  Let us entreat the hospitality of our brother for the remainder of the night, and in the morning we will depart in peace.’”