French and Oriental Love in a Harem

All this time I had never interrupted my labours; for you need not

suppose that my nabob's fortune could make me forgetful of my

inclinations towards science. In the midst of my numerous follies, as

you know very well, and in spite of the distractions of the more or less

dissipated life which I have led up to my present happy age of

twenty-six, I have always preserved my love of study, which fills up

those hours of forced respite that even the pleasures of the world leave

to every man who is conscious of a brain. The Polytechnic School, and

the search for x, in which my uncle trained me, developed very

inquisitive instincts in me. I ended by acquiring a taste for

transcendental ideas. This taste is at least worth as much as that for

angling. For my part, I confess that I class among the molluscs men who,

being their own masters, content themselves with eating, drinking, and

sleeping, without performing any intellectual labour. This is why you

call me "the savant."

I worked away, then, at my book with a veritable enthusiasm, and my

"Essay upon the Origin of Sensation" had extended to several long

chapters, when the critical event occurred which I have undertaken to

relate to you.

I had lived thus all alone for two weeks. One evening, on my return from

Arles, where I had been spending a couple of days upon some business, I

was informed that His Excellency, Mohammed-Azis, the old friend of my

uncle, whom I remembered to have seen on one occasion, had arrived at

the château the evening before, not having heard of the death of

Barbassou-Pasha. I must admit that this news gave me at the time very

little pleasure; but in memory of my dear departed uncle, I could not

but give his friend the welcome he expected. I was told that His

Excellency had gone straight to his quarters at Kasre-el-Nouzha, where

he was accustomed to dwell. I hastened to send my respects to him,

begging him to let me know if he would receive me. He sent word that he

was at my disposition and waiting for me. I therefore set off at once to

call upon him.

I found Mohammed-Azis on his door-step. Gravely and sadly he received me

with a salute, the respectful manner of which embarrassed me somewhat,

coming from a man of his age. He showed me into the drawing-room, in

each of the four corners of which bubbled a little fountain of perfumed

water, in small basins of alabaster garnished with flowers. He made me

sit down on the divan covered with a splendid silk material, and which,

very broad and very deep, and furnished with numerous cushions, extends

round the entire room. When seated, I commenced uttering a few phrases

of condolence, but he replied to me in Turkish.