lah
Nadan, who was much in want of one who would act as half scribe and
half servant; one, in short, who might be of good materials for a future
mollah, and whom he would instruct in all that was necessary in that
vocation.'

My heart leaped within me when I heard this, for it was precisely the
place that my imagination had created. 'Leave it to me,' thought I, 'to
become a whole mollah, when once I have been made half a one.'

Without hesitation I entreated the mushtehed to continue his good
offices in my behalf, which he promised to do; and forthwith addressed a
small note, with his own hand, to the Mollah Nadan. This he sealed, and,
having duly fashioned it in its proper shape with his scissors, rolled
it up and delivered it to me; saying, 'Proceed to Tehran immediately; no
doubt you will find the place vacant, and the mollah willing to appoint
you to fill it.'

I was so happy that I kissed the good man's hand and the hem of his
garment, making him thousands of acknowledgments for his goodness.

'I have one more favour to ask of my master,' said I, 'which is, that
he will deign to accept a small _peish-kesh_, a present from his humble
slave; it is a praying-carpet, and, should he honour him so far as to
use it, he hopes that now and then he will not forget the donor in his
prayers.'

'May your house prosper, Hajji,' said he very graciously, 'and I
am thankful to you for remembering me, not that there was the least
occasion for this present. Be a good Mussulman, wage war against the
infidels, and stone the Sufis,--that is the only return I ask; and be
assured that, by so doing, you will always find a place in my memory.'

I then presented my gift, with which he seemed much pleased; and,
having received my dismissal, I returned to my caravanserai, in the
determination of pursuing my road to the capital as fast as I could. I
did not even give myself time to call upon my other friends at Rom, or
even to take a look at my former unhappy cell in the sanctuary; but,
saddling my mule, I pushed on to the caravanserai of the Pul-i-dallak
that very night.

I reached Tehran in the evening, and, in order not to see the spot in
which the unfortunate Zeenab was buried, I made a deviation from my
straight road, and entered by the Casbin gate. I was happy to remark
that I was not recognized by the guards, who, when I was in office, were
accustomed to show themselves on the alert at my approach. But indeed it
was not surprisi