I cannot help here accusing myself of what, doubtless, may be well reputed a very great sin. I was so enraged at the traitorous part which Hassan had acted, that, at parting, I could not help saying to Ibrahim, “Now, Shekh, I have done every thing you have desired, without ever expecting fee, or reward; the only thing I now ask you, and it is probably the last, is, that you revenge me upon this Hassan, who is every day in your power.” Upon this, he gave me his hand, saying, “He shall not die in his bed, or I shall never see old age.”
We now returned all in great spirits to Cosseir, and I observed that my unexpected connection with the Ababdé had given me an influence in that place, that put me above all fear of personal danger, especially as they had seen in the desert, that the Atouni were my friends also, as reclaiming this Arab shewed they really were.
The Bey insisted on my supping with him. At his desire I told him the whole story, at which he seemed to be much surprised, saying, several times, “Menullah! Menullah! Mucktoub!” It is God’s doing, it is God’s doing, it was written so. And, when I had finished, he said to me, “I will not leave this traitor with you to trouble you further; I will oblige him, as it is his duty, to attend me to Furshout.” This he accordingly did; and, to my very great surprise, though he might be assured I had complained of him to Shekh Hamam, meeting me the next day, when they were all ready to depart, and were drinking coffee with the Bey, he gave me a slip of paper, and desired me, by that direction, to buy him a sabre, which might be procured in Mecca. It seems it is the manufacture of Persia, and, though I do not understand in the least, the import of the terms, I give it to the reader that he may know by what description he is to buy an excellent sabre. It is called Suggaro Tabanne Haresanne Agemmi, _for Sidi Hassan of Furshout_.
Although pretty much used to stifle my resentment upon impertinences of this kind, I could not, after the trick he had played me with the Ababdé, carry it indifferently; I threw the billet before the Bey, saying to Hassan, “A sword of that value would be useless and misemployed in the hand of a coward and a traitor, such as surely you must be sensible I know you to be.” He looked to the Bey as if appealing to him, from the incivility of the observation; but the Bey, without scruple, answered, “It is true, it is true what he says, Hassan; if I was in Ali Bey’s place, when you dared use a stranger of mine, or any stranger, as you have done him, I would plant you upon a sharp stake in the market-place, till the boys in the town stoned you to death; but he has complained of you in a letter, and I will be a witness against you before Hamam, for your conduct is not that of a _Mussulman_.”