A little old man lay on the yellow sand.  He was so grey and dwarfish that he looked like a mountain sprite.  The old fellow was at home in the bare, big rocks.  He loved the desert, for it is the home of great thoughts.  He loved the desert where he hoped to find the entrance to Nirvana.  Now when the disciples passed near him as they were returning to the Master, he pushed the upper part of his body out of the sand, and asked:  “What did the man want to whom you were speaking?”

“He wanted to be able to live for ever.”

“To live for ever!” exclaimed the old fellow in surprise.  “And that is why the man drags himself across the desert.  What extraordinary people there are!  Now I could go any distance to find my Nirvana.  I only desire eternal life for my enemies.  It is many a day since people said I was a hundred years old.  If you are men of wisdom, teach me, tell me what I must do to reach Nirvana?”

They were astonished.  It was something like out of a fairy tale.  A living creature who did not wish to live!  But Matthew knew how to answer him.

“My friend, your desire is modest, but it can never be fulfilled.  You will never be nothing.  If you die, you lose only your body, not yourself.  You will, perhaps, not live, but you will be just as the same as now:  you are not living now, and yet you exist.  Breathing and waiting is not living.  Living is fulfilment, is love—­is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

“My Kingdom of Heaven is Nirvana,” said the little old man, and buried himself again in the sand.

As they went along Matthew said:  “He fears everlasting existence because he does not recognise a God.  But he is not so far from us as the man who loves the world.”

Simeon went on his way, and towards evening reached the oasis of Kaba.  He ordered his people to encamp there for the night.  The servants, porters, and animals formed the outer ring, the tent—­in which he took his supper, stretched himself on his cushions, and let himself be fanned to sleep by the maidens—­was in the centre.  But he did not sleep well.  He had bad dreams:  his house in Jerusalem was burnt down, his ships were wrecked, faithless stewards broke open his chests.  And amid all, always the cry, “Give it all up!” About midnight he awoke.  And it was no longer a dream, but terrible reality.  A muffled noise could be heard throughout the camp, dark forms with glittering weapons moved softly about, in the camp itself crawling figures moved softly here and there.  A tall, dark man, accompanied by Bedouins, carrying torches and knives, stood in front of Simeon.

“Do not be alarmed, my princely friend!” he said to Simeon, who jumped up; but none could tell whether he spoke from arrogance or authority, kindly or in scorn.  “It’s true we are disturbing your night’s repose, but, provided you give no trouble, we have no evil designs.  Hand over all that you possess.”