ersuasion, who was now obliged to fold up his principles in the napkin
of oblivion, and clothe himself in the garments of the true faith.

On the morning of the Shah's visit to the tomb for the purpose of saying
his prayers, I was on the alert, in the hopes of being remarked by the
mushtehed, who would thus be reminded of his promises to me.

About an hour before the prayer of midday, the Shah, on foot, escorted
by an immense concourse of attendants, priests, and of the people,
entered the precincts of the sanctuary. He was dressed in a dark suit,
the sombre colours of which were adapted to the solemn looks of his
face, and he held in his hand a long enamelled stick, curiously inlaid
at the pommel. He had put by all ornament, wearing none of his customary
jewellery, not even his dagger, which on other occasions he is never
without. The only article of great value was his rosary, composed
of large pearls (the produce of his fishery at Bahrein), of the most
beautiful water and symmetry, and this he kept constantly in his hand.

The mushtehed walked two or three steps behind him on the left hand,
respectfully answered the interrogatories which the king was pleased to
make, and lent a profound attention to all his observations.

When the procession came near me (for it passed close to my cell), I
seized an opportunity, when no officer was at hand, to run forward,
throw myself on my knees, make the prostration with my face to the
ground, and exclaim, 'Refuge in the King of Kings, the asylum of the
world! In the name of the blessed Fatimeh, mercy!'

'Who is this?' exclaimed the king to the mushtehed, 'Is he one of
yours?'

'He has taken the bust (the sanctuary),' answered the mirza, 'and
he claims the accustomed pardon of the Shadow of the Almighty to all
unfortunate refugees whenever he visits the tomb. He and we all are your
sacrifice; and whatever the Shah ordains, so let it be.'

'But who and what are you?' said the Shah to me; 'why have you taken
refuge here?'

'May I be our sacrifice!' said I. 'Your slave was the sub-deputy
executioner to the Centre of the Universe, Hajji Baba by name; and my
enemies have made me appear criminal in the eyes of the Shah, whilst I
am innocent.'

'_Yafteh im_, we have understood,' rejoined the king, after a minute's
pause. 'So you are that Hajji Baba? _Mubarek_, much good may it do you.
Whether it was one dog or another that did the deed, whether the hakim
or the sub-deputy, it c