Straightway men and beasts made their way through the narrow cobbled lanes.  Sneering camels, so bulked out by their burdens that a foot-passenger must shrink against the wall to avoid a bad bruising; well-fed horses, carrying some early-rising Moor of rank on the top of seven saddle-cloths; half-starved donkeys, all sores and bruises; one encountered every variety of Moorish traffic here, and the thoroughfare, that had been deserted a moment before, was soon thronged.  In addition to the Moors and Susi traders, there were many slaves, black as coal, brought in times past from the Soudan.  From garden and orchard beyond the city the fruit and flowers and vegetables were being carried into their respective markets, and as they passed the air grew suddenly fragrant with a scent that was almost intoxicating.  The garbage that lay strewn over the cobbles had no more power to offend, and the fresh scents added in some queer fashion of their own to the unreality of the whole scene.

To avoid the crush we turned to another quarter of the city, noting that the gates of the bazaars were opened, and that only the chains were left across the entrance.  But the tiny shops, mere overgrown packing-cases, were still locked up; the merchants, who are of higher rank than the dealers in food-stuffs, seldom appear before the day is aired, and their busiest hours are in the afternoon, when the auction is held.  “Custom is from Allah,” they say, and, strong in this belief, they hold that time is only valuable as leisure.  And, God wot, they may well be wiser herein than we are.

A demented countryman, respected as a saint by reason of his madness, a thing of rags and tatters and woefully unkempt hair, a quite wild creature, more than six feet high, and gaunt as a lightning-smitten pine, came down the deserted bazaar of the brass-workers.  He carried a long staff in one hand, a bright tin bowl in the other.  The sight of a European heightened his usual frenzy—­

        Across his sea of mind
    A thought came streaming like a blazing ship
        Upon a mighty wind.

I saw the sinews stand out on the bare arm that gripped the staff, and his bright eyes were soon fixed upon me.  “You do not say words to him, sir,” whispered Salam; “he do’n know what he do—­he very holy man.”

The madman spat on my shadow, and cursed profoundly, while his passion was mastering him.  I noted with interest in that uncomfortable moment the clear signs of his epileptic tendencies, the twitching of the thumb that grasped the stick, the rigidity of the body, the curious working of certain facial muscles.  I stood perfectly still, though my right hand involuntarily sought the pocket of my coat where my revolver lay, the use of which save in direst necessity had been a mad and wicked act; and then two peace-loving Moors, whose blue selhams of fine Manchester cloth proclaimed their wealth and station, came forward and drew the frenzied creature away, very gently and persuasively.  He, poor wretch, did not know what was taking place, but moved helplessly to the door of the bazaar and then fell, his fit upon him.  I hurried on.  Moors are kindly, as well as respectful, to those afflicted of Allah.