ething more than a common acquaintance.' My first master, Osman Aga,
came into my mind; but all idea of him I immediately banished, because
it was more than certain that he had long since fallen a victim to the
horrors of his captivity among the Turcomans. Still I looked at him, and
at every glance I felt convinced it was either he, his brother, or his
ghost. I approached to where he was seated, in the hope of hearing him
speak; but he seemed to be torpid (which was another characteristic in
favour of my suspicion), and I had waited some time in vain, when, to
my surprise, I heard him, in a voice well known to my ears, inquire of
a merchant who was passing, 'In God's name, what may be the price of
lambs' skins at Constantinople?'

'Oh, for once,' said I, 'I cannot be mistaken! You can be no one but
Osman,'--and I immediately made myself known to him.

He was as slow to believe that it was Hajji Baba who accosted him, as I
had been to make him out Osman Aga.

After our expressions of mutual astonishment had somewhat subsided, we
began to survey each other. I discussed the greyness of his beard, and
he complimented me upon the beauty and blackness of mine. He talked
with great serenity of the lapse of time, and of the nothingness of
this world, from which I perceived that his belief in predestination
had rather increased than diminished by his misfortunes, and which alone
could account for the equanimity with which he had borne them. In his
usual concise manner, he related what had befallen him since we last
met. He said, that after the first feelings of misery at his captivity
had gone by, his time passed more agreeably than he had expected; for he
had nothing to do but to sit with the camels, whose nature being of
the same calm and philosophic cast as his own, suited his quiet and
sedentary habits. His food was indifferent, but then he had excellent
water; and the only privation which he seemed to regret was tobacco,--a
want which long previous habit rendered infinitely painful. Years had
run on in this manner, and he had made up his mind to pass the remainder
of his life with the camels, when his destiny took another turn, and he
once more had the cheering hope of being restored to liberty. One, who
gave himself out for a prophet, appeared among the Turcomans. According
to the custom of such personages, he established his influence by
pretending to work two or three miracles, and which were received
as such by that c