Arabian Nights and Days Read Online Free

without sleep. Early in the morning there came the sound of wailing. Umm Saad disappeared for a while, then returned and said, “O mother of Baseema, may God be with you.”
    “What’s happened?” he asked, lowering his gaze.
    “What’s got into people, father of Fadil? The girl’s been raped and murdered under the elementary school stairway. A mere child, O Lord. Under the skin of certain humans lie savage beasts.”
    He bowed his head until his beard lay disheveled against his chest.
    “I take my refuge in God from the accursed Devil,” he muttered.
    “These beasts know neither God nor Prophet.”
    The woman burst into tears.
    He began to ask himself: Was it the genie? Was it the dope he had swallowed? Or was it Sanaan al-Gamali?
VI
    The thoughts of everyone in the quarter were in turmoil. The crime was the sole subject of conversation. Ibrahim the druggist, as he prepared him more medicine, said, “The wound has not healed, but there is no longer any danger from it.” Then, as he bound his arm with muslin, “Have you heard of the crime?”
    “I take refuge in God,” he said in disgust.
    “The criminal’s not human. Our sons marry directly they reach puberty.”
    “He’s a madman, there’s no doubt of that.”
    “Or he’s one of those vagabonds who haven’t got the means to marry. They are milling around the streets like stray dogs.”
    “Many are saying that.”
    “What is Ali al-Salouli doing in the seat of government?”
    At mention of the name he quaked, remembering the pact he had made, a pact that hung over his head like a sword. “Busy with his own interests,” he concurred, “and counting the presents and the bribes.”
    “The favors he rendered us merchants cannot be denied,” said the druggist, “but he should remember that his primary duty is to maintain things as they are for us.”
    Sanaan went off with the words, “Don’t put your trust in the world, Ibrahim.”
VII
    The governor of the quarter, Ali al-Salouli, knew from his private secretary Buteisha Murgan what was being said about security. He was frightened that the reports would reach the vizier Dandan and that he would pass them on to the sultan, so he called the chief of police, Gamasa al-Bulti, and said to him, “Have you heard what is being said about security during my time in office?”
    The chief of police’s inner calm had not changed when he had learned about his superior’s secrets and acts of corruption.
    “Excuse me, governor,” he said, “but I have not been negligent or remiss in sending out spies. However, the villain has left no trace and we haven’t found a single witness. I myself have interrogated dozens of vagabonds and beggars, but it’s an unfathomable crime, unlike anything that has previously happened.”
    “What a fool you are! Arrest all the vagabonds and beggars—you’re an expert on the effective means of interrogation.”
    “We haven’t the prisons to take them,” said Gamasa warily.
    “What prisons, fellow? Do you want to impose upon the public treasury the expense of providing them with food?” said the governor in a rage. “Drive them into the open and seek the help of the troops—and bring me the criminal before nightfall.”
VIII
    The police swooped down on the plots of wasteland and arrested the beggars and vagabonds, then drove them in groups into the open. No complaint and no oath availed, no exception was made of old men. Force was used against them until they prayed fervently for help to God and to His Prophet and the members of his family.
    Sanaan al-Gamali followed the news with anxious alarm: he was the guilty one, of this there was no doubt, and yet he was going about free and at large, being treated with esteem. How was it that he had become the very pivot of all this suffering? And someone unknown was lying in wait for him, someone indifferent to all that had occurred, while he was utterly lost, succumbing without condition. As for the old Sanaan, he had died