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Rashîd was waiting in my cast-off clothes, a new fez of civilian shape upon his head. He held my stirrup, and then jumped on to a raw-boned beast which had been 'borrowed' for him by his friends, so he informed me. It might be worth my while to buy it for him, he suggested later the price was only eight pounds Turk, the merest trifle.
'I had no opportunity, I told him; 'but I am going now to write and ask him to return it. Be ready for the letter. You will have to take it. 'Upon my head and eye, with all alacrity, Rashîd replied. 'Never did I rejoice so much in any errand. That rascal has been telling everybody that it is your gift to him, and boasting of his gun through all the mountains.
He disapproved of poor Rashîd as a companion for me, because the latter dealt in vulgar language; and I feel certain that he would have disapproved of Suleymân, if he had ever seen that Sun of Wisdom in my company, for pandering to my desire for foolish stories. He was known as the Mu'allim Costantîn, a worthy man.
Then in the midst of all this culture, kindliness, generosity, kingliness, honest mirth, just as we are beginning to honour and love the great caliph, we come upon a tale with the staggering commencement "When Harun al Rashid crucified Ja'afar;" and if we try to comfort ourselves with the reflection that we are reading only Fiction, History comes forward and tells us bluntly that it is naked truth.
'God knows, he said, 'I would not choose such service. But what am I to do? A man must live. And I will save my lady's virtue if I can. 'May Allah help thee! said Rashîd. 'Take courage; I have robbed his eyes.
They merely grinned and wished me a good day, and then discussed my personal appearance, the whiteness of my skin, and more particularly my pyjamas, with much interest. This went on till Rashîd appeared upon the scene, bringing my india-rubber bath and a kerosene tin full of water. He closed and bolted all the shutters firmly, with stern reflections on the lack of shame of my admirers.
It was a bitter pill for him, whose whole endeavour was for my aggrandisement, to see me treated like a menial by our guest; who, one fine evening, had me summoned to his presence I had been sitting with some village elders in the olive grove behind the house and made to me a strange proposal, which Rashîd declared by Allah proved his perfect infamy. His manner was for once quite amiable.
For peace and quiet I pretended acquiescence, and my purpose thus acquired a taste of stealth. It was with the feelings of a kind of truant that I had set out at length without a word to anyone, and with the same adventurous feelings that I now drew near to Karameyn. Two soldiers, basking in the sunshine on a dust-heap, sprang up at my approach. One was the man I sought, the rogue Rashîd.
We set out from our village on a fine spring morning, attended by Rashîd, my servant, and a famous hunter of the district named Muhammad, also two mules, which carried all things necessary for our camping out, and were in charge of my friend's cook, Amîn by name.
Besides embroiling himself with the truculent Rashid Pasha and his underlings, Burton contrived to give offence to four other bodies of men. In June, 1870, Mr. Mentor Mott, the kind and charitable superintendent of the British Syrian School at Beyrout, went to Damascus to proselytize, and acted, in Burton's opinion, with some indiscretion.
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