The Jew now became fidgety, and he hastened down to the Khoja’s door, at which he knocked, and entering, said, “Good-day, Khoja Effendi.  May I ask you to be good enough to restore to me my nine hundred and ninety-nine gold pieces?”

“Are you mad, O Jew money-lender?” replied the Khoja.  “Is it likely that you would throw gold down my chimney?  These pieces fell from heaven in fulfilment of my lawful desires.”

“O my soul, Khoja!” cried the Jew, “I did it, indeed!  It was a jest, O Khoja!  You said, ‘I will not take one less than a thousand,’ wherefore I put nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces in the purse, and it was for a joke.”

“I do not see the joke,” said the Khoja, “but I have accepted the gold pieces.”  And he went on smoking.

The Jew money-lender now became desperate.

“Let us go to the magistrate,” he cried.  “The Cadi Effendi shall decide between us.”

“It is well said,” replied the Khoja.  “But it would not beseem a Khoja like myself to go through the public streets to the court on foot; and I am poor, and have no mule.”

“O my soul!” said the Jew, “let not that trouble you.  I will send and fetch one of my mules.”

But when the mule was at the door, the Khoja said:  “Is it fitting, O money-lender, that a Khoja like myself should appear in these rags before a Cadi Effendi?  But I am poor, and have no suitable dress.”

“Let not that be a hindrance, O Khoja!” said the Jew.  “For I have a pelisse made of the most beautiful fur, which I will send for without delay.”

In due time this arrived, and, richly clothed, the Khoja rode through the streets with a serene countenance, the Jew money-lender running after him in the greatest anxiety.

When they came before the Cadi, the Jew prostrated himself, and cried in piteous tones, “Help, O most noble Dispenser of Justice!  This Khoja has stolen from me nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces of gold—­and now he denies it.”

Then the Cadi turned to the Khoja, who said:  “O Cadi Effendi, I did indeed earnestly desire a thousand pieces of gold, and this purse came to me in fulfilment of my wishes.  But when I counted the pieces I found one short.  Then I said, ’The bountiful giver of these will certainly send the other also.’  So I accepted what was given to me.  But in this Jew money-lender is the spirit of covetousness.  For half a farthing, O Cadi, he would, without doubt, lay claim to the beast I ride, or to the coat on my back.”

“O my soul!” screamed the Jew.  “It is indeed true that they are mine.  The mule and the fur pelisse belong to me, O Cadi!”

“O you covetous rascal!” said the Cadi, “you will lay claim to my turban next, or to the Sultan’s horses.”  And he commanded the Jew to be driven from his presence.

But the Khoja rode home again, and—­he accepted the mule and the fur pelisse, as well as the nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces of gold.