nce--I noticed his
appearance. It was rather strange. He wore an old blue shirt, and on
his head a kind of turban, but of many colours and, unlike any I had
ever seen upon the natives of the country, with an end or streamer
hanging loose upon one side. In complexion, too, he was a good deal
darker than a Syrian, and yet had nothing of the negro in his looks.
Something furtive in his manner of approach amused me, as suggestive
of the thief of Rashid's nightmares. I moved into the darkest corner
of the room and lay quite still. He climbed our steps and filled the
doorway, looking in.

It happened that Rashid had left a bag of lentils, bought that
morning, just inside. The thief seized that and, thinking he was
unobserved, was going to look round for other spoil, when I sat up and
asked to know his business. He gave one jump, replied: 'It is no
matter,' and was gone immediately. I watched him running till he
vanished in the crowded street.

Rashid returned. I told him what had happened in his absence, but he
did not smile. He asked me gravely to describe the man's appearance,
and, when I did so, groaned: 'It is a Nuri (gipsy). Who knows their
lurking-places? Had it been a townsman or a villager I might perhaps
have caught him and obtained redress.' He said this in a manner of
soliloquy before he turned to me, and, with reproachful face,
exclaimed:

'He stole our bag of lentils and you watched him steal it! You had at
hand our good revolver, yet you did not shoot!'

'Why should I shoot a man for such a trifle?'

'It is not the dimensions or the value of the object stolen that your
Honour ought to have considered, but the crime! The man who steals a
bag of lentils thus deliberately is a wicked man, and when a man is
wicked he deserves to die; and he expects it.'

I told him that the gipsy was quite welcome to the lentils, but he
would not entertain that point of view. After trying vainly to
convince me of my failure to perform a social duty, he went out to the
establishment of a coffee-seller across the street, who kept his cups
and brazier in the hollow trunk of the old ilex tree, and set stools
for his customers beneath its shade, encroaching on the public street.
Thither I followed after a few minutes, and found him telling
everybody of the theft. Those idlers all agreed with him that it was
right to shoot a thief.

'All for a bag of lentils!' I retorted loftily. 'God knows I do not
grudge as much to any man.'