every day to wander over it,
trying to see if it could not be made to fit my needs. It consisted
of a grove of fine old olive trees, with terraces of fig and mulberry
trees and vegetables, spread out to catch the morning sun upon a
mountain side sloping to a wooded valley walled by rocky heights.
Water was there in plenty, but no house to speak of; the three small,
cube-shaped houses on the property being in the occupation (which
amounts to ownership) of workers of the land, who, according to the
custom of the country, would become my partners. Upon the other hand,
the land was fairly cheap, and after paying for it, I should have a
balance with which I might begin to build a proper house; for, as
Suleyman remarked, 'here all things are done gradually. No one will
expect to see a palace all at once. Begin with two rooms and a stable,
and add a fresh room every time that you have forty pounds to spare.'

The price of building appeared fixed in all that countryside at forty
pounds a vault, which in ordinary buildings means a room, since every
room is vaulted.

The trouble was to see just where to put the house without
encroaching upon profitable land. At last I hit on a position in the
middle of the highest terrace on which grew olive trees so very old
that they could well be sacrificed. Having arrived at this decision I
sat down among those trees and gazed in rapture at the view across the
valley. It was indeed a grand position for a house.

Rashid exclaimed: 'Our dwelling will be seen afar. The traveller on
distant roads will see its windows flashing, and will certainly
inquire the owner's name. Yet would I rather it had faced the evening
sun, because more people are abroad at sunset than at dawn.'

'The morning sun is better for the growth of plants, and it comports
the evening shadow, which is most agreeable,' murmured Suleyman, who
stretched his length upon the ground before us, chewing a flower-stem
with an air of wisdom.

As we were there conversing lazily, one of the peasant-partners in the
land came through the trees, bringing a tray with cups of coffee,
which he had prepared for our refreshment.

'The Lord preserve thy hands, O Casim,' sighed Suleyman. 'Thou comest
at the very moment when my soul said "coffee."'

The peasant Casim beamed with pleasure at the thanks we showered on
him, and, squatting down, inquired if we had yet decided anything.

'Aye,' I replied. 'In sh'Allah we shall cut down these th