All this time I had never interrupted my labours; for you need not
suppose that my nabob's fortune could make me forgetful of my
inclinations towards science. In the midst of my numerous follies, as
you know very well, and in spite of the distractions of the more or less
dissipated life which I have led up to my present happy age of
twenty-six, I have always preserved my love of study, which fills up
those hours of forced respite that even the pleasures of the world leave
to every man who is conscious of a brain. The Polytechnic School, and
the search for x, in which my uncle trained me, developed very
inquisitive instincts in me. I ended by acquiring a taste for
transcendental ideas. This taste is at least worth as much as that for
angling. For my part, I confess that I class among the molluscs men who,
being their own masters, content themselves with eating, drinking, and
sleeping, without performing any intellectual labour. This is why you
call me "the savant."
I worked away, then, at my book with a veritable enthusiasm, and my
"Essay upon the Origin of Sensation" had extended to several long
chapters, when the critical event occurred which I have undertaken to
relate to you.
I had lived thus all alone for two weeks. One evening, on my return from
Arles, where I had been spending a couple of days upon some business, I
was informed that His Excellency, Mohammed-Azis, the old friend of my
uncle, whom I remembered to have seen on one occasion, had arrived at
the château the evening before, not having heard of the death of
Barbassou-Pasha. I must admit that this news gave me at the time very
little pleasure; but in memory of my dear departed uncle, I could not
but give his friend the welcome he expected. I was told that His
Excellency had gone straight to his quarters at Kasre-el-Nouzha, where
he was accustomed to dwell. I hastened to send my respects to him,
begging him to let me know if he would receive me. He sent word that he
was at my disposition and waiting for me. I therefore set off at once to
call upon him.
I found Mohammed-Azis on his door-step. Gravely and sadly he received me
with a salute, the respectful manner of which embarrassed me somewhat,
coming from a man of his age. He showed me into the drawing-room, in
each of the four corners of which bubbled a little fountain of perfumed
water, in small basins of alabaster garnished with flowers. He made me
sit down on the divan covered with a splendid silk material, and which,
very broad and very deep, and furnished with numerous cushions, extends
round the entire room. When seated, I commenced uttering a few phrases
of condolence, but he replied to me in Turkish.