was loosed in the heart of the druggist and he shut his shop and returning to his house, rapped at the door.  Said the singer, “Let me jump into the chest, for he saw me not yesterday;” but said she, “No! wrap thyself up in the mat.”  So he wrapped himself up and stood in a corner of the room, whilst the druggist entered and went no whither else save to the chest, but found naught inside.  Then he walked round about the house and searched it, top and bottom, but came upon nothing and no one and abode between belief and disbelief, and said to himself, “Haply, I suspect my wife of what is not in her.”  So he was certified of her innocence and going forth content, returned to his shop, whereupon out came the singer and they resumed their former little game, as was their wont, till eventide when she gave him one of her husband’s shirts and he took it and going away, nighted in his own lodging.  Next morning he repaired to the druggist, who saluted him with the salam and came to meet him and rejoiced in him and smiled in his face, deeming his wife innocent.  Then he questioned him of his case on yesterday and he told him how he had fared, saying, “O my brother, when the cornute knocked at the door, I would have jumped into the chest; but his wife forbade me and rolled me up in the mat.  The man entered and thought of nothing save the chest; so he brake it open and woned like one jinn-mad, going up and coming down.  Then he went about his business and I came out and we abode on our accustomed case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her husband’s; and behold, I am now off to her.”  When the druggist heard the singer’s words, he was assured of the adventure and knew that the calamity, all of it, was in his own house and that the wife was his wife; and he considered the shirt, whereupon he redoubled in assuredness and said to the singer, “Art thou now going to her?” Said he, “Yes, O my brother,” and taking leave of him, went away; whereupon the druggist started up, as he were stark mad, and dismantled his shop.[FN#327] Whilst he was thus doing, the singer won to the house, and presently up came the druggist and knocked at the door.  The lover would have wrapped himself up in the mat, but she forbade him and said, “Get thee down to the ground floor of the house and enter the oven-jar[FN#328] and close the cover upon thyself.”  So he did her bidding and she went down to her husband and opened the door to him, whereupon he came in and went round the house, but found no one and overlooked the oven-jar.  Then he stood musing and sware that he would not again go forth of the house till the morrow.  As for the singer, when his stay in the oven-jar grew longsome upon him, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone away; and he went up to the terrace-roof and looking down, beheld his friend the druggist:  whereat he was sore concerned and said in himself, “Alas, the disgrace, ah!  This is my friend the druggist, who of me was fain and dealt me fair and I have paid