One of his friends offered to rise; but Noor ad Deen stepping before him, opened the door himself.  It was the steward; and Noor ad Deen, going a little out of the hall to know his business, left the door half open.

The friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the steward, and being curious to know what he had to say, placed himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly overheard the steward’s discourse to his master.  “Sir,” said he, “I ask a thousand pardons for coming to disturb you in the height of your pleasure; but what I have to say is of such importance, that I thought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it.  I am come, sir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you, that what I all along foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at last come to pass.  I have not the smallest piece left of all the sums I have received from you for your expenses; the other funds you assigned me are all exhausted.  The farmers, and those that owe you rent, have made it so plainly appear to me, that you have assigned over to others what they held of you, that it is impossible for me to get any more from them on your account.  Here are my books; if you please, examine them; and if you wish I should continue useful to you, assign me other funds, or else give me leave to quit your service.”  Noor ad Deen was so astonished at his statement, that he gave him no answer.

The friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard every syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in, and told the company what he had overheard.  “It is your business, gentlemen,” said he, “to make your use of this caution; for my part, I declare to you, this is the last visit I design ever to make Noor ad Deen.”  “Nay,” replied they, “if matters go thus, we have as little business here as you; and for the future shall take care not to trouble him with our company.”

Noor ad Deen returned presently after; notwithstanding all his efforts to appear gay to his guests, he could not so dissemble his concern, but they plainly perceived the truth of what they had heard.  He was scarcely sat down in his place, when one of his friends arose:  “Sir,” said he, “I am sorry I cannot have the honour of keeping you company any longer; and therefore I hope you will excuse my rudeness in leaving you so soon.”  “What urgent affair,” demanded Noor ad Deen, “obliges you to be going so soon?” “My wife, sir,” he replied, “is brought to bed to-day; and upon such an occasion, you know a husband’s company is always necessary.”  So making a very low bow, he went away.  A minute afterwards a second took his leave, with another excuse.  The rest did the same, one after another, till at last not one of the ten friends that had hitherto kept Noor ad Deen company remained.