Abaquir, before he began to eat, returned thanks to the holy Prophet
for so seasonable a relief. When the first calls of hunger were
satisfied, the dervish prevailed upon him to go with him to his cell,
which was at no great distance.

Abaquir was received therewith every mark of benevolent charity. His
wounds were washed and dressed, and the most nourishing food was set
before him. In this wild habitation the tables and chairs were nothing
but stones rudely thrown together, and the beds were made of heaps of
moss; but it was very well for Abaquir, who had been reduced to the
want of everything. Besides, the attention of his landlord supplied
the want of conveniences in this retreat. The young man conceived the
highest idea of the profession of a dervish, from its inspiring
sentiments so humane.

"My dear child," said the disguised person to him, "I take pleasure in
bestowing care on you; do not place all to the account of religion.
You inspire me with a strong interest, and if you wish to go away from
me, you must at least tarry till you are perfectly recovered of your
wounds, for the passage from this desert is extremely difficult."

Although the young man could not but show himself grateful for so much
attention, yet it did not appear uncommon to him. Accustomed to the
tender caresses of his nurse, to those of his father, and of his
generous benefactor who had since directed his education, the
attentions of the pretended dervish seemed to him affectionate and
natural. The latter, by degrees, came to know all the adventures of
Abaquir, and appeared to take in him an interest always more marked.

"Either I am much deceived, child," said the recluse, "or I perceive
that you are reserved for very high fates, and I devote myself to
become your conductor in this fortunate career. I will restore to you
this father who took so much pleasure in lavishing his caresses upon
you."

"Ah! if you can," replied Abaquir, "conduct me to him immediately."

"In your present condition? No, my child, you are unacquainted with
mankind. Nature speaks not with the great in favour of a stranger
covered with the old cloak of a dervish. Before you could obtain a
hearing, you would experience the treatment reserved for an impostor,
and there would be a number of interested people ready to forbid you
all access. But at present you are with a man who loves you, and whose
resources are inexhaustible. A disgust at the riches and vanities o