“Your wisdom is great, Giaffar,” replied the caliph; “the man is truly a savage, and doubtless will rage with hunger, nevertheless, we will go and see in what state he may be.”

Giaffar trembled at the idea of being subjected to the wrath of such a fellow as Yussuf, but made no reply.  He went for Mesrour and the dresses, and having put them on, they all three issued forth from the private gate of the seraglio.  They had nearly reached the end of the narrow lane in which Yussuf’s house was situated, when the strong reflection of the lights from the windows told them that, at all events, he was not lamenting his hard fate in darkness; and as they approached, the sound of his jovial voice proved also that it was neither in silence that he submitted to his destiny.  As they came under the window, he ceased singing, and ejaculated a loud curse upon all Moussul merchants, wishing that he might only see them once again before the devil had them.  The caliph laughed at this pious wish, and taking up a handful of pebbles, threw them at the jalousies of Yussuf’s windows.

“Who the devil is there?” roared the water-carrier; “is it you, ye bankrupt vagabonds, who have annoyed me?  Begone, or by the sword of the Prophet, I’ll impale you all three on my broomstick.”

“Dost thou not know us, Yussuf?” replied the caliph; “we are your friends, and once more request admission under thy hospitable roof.”

Yussuf came out into the verandah.  “Oh! it is you, then; now take my advice,—­go in peace.  I am now in good humour, and peaceably disposed; but had I fallen in with you to-day, I would have twisted off your necks.”

“Nay, good Yussuf,” replied Giaffar, “we have heard of the unaccountable and mad decree of the caliph, and have called to know how thou hast fared, and if we can be of service to one so hospitable and kind.”

“You lie, I believe,” replied Yussuf; “but I’m in good humour, so you shall come in, and see how well I fare.  I am Yussuf, and my trust is in God.”  He then went down and admitted them, and they viewed with surprise the relics of the feast.  “Now, then,” observed Yussuf, who was more than half drunk, “you know my conditions; there is my meat, there is my wine, there is my fruit; not a drop or a taste shall you have.  Keep your confounded sharp eyes off my sweetmeats, you black-bearded rascal,” continued Yussuf, addressing the caliph.  “You have your share of them.”

“Indeed, most hospitable sir, we covet not your delicacies:  all we wish to know is the reason of this unheard of decree, and how you have contrived to supply your usual merry table.”

“You shall hear,” replied the water-carrier.  “My name is Yussuf, and my trust is in God.  When the decree of the caliph came to my ears this morning, I became as one deprived of sense; but wandering near the hummaum of Giaffar Bermuki, a friendly servant of the baths accosted me.”  Yussuf then stated how he had gained his money, much to their amusement.  “Now,” continued he, “I will no longer be a water-carrier, but an attendant at the bath will I live and die.  May all evil fall upon the cold-blooded caliph; but thanks to Allah, it never will enter his head to shut up the baths.”