<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
<h3>SHIRAZ THE RUG-MERCHANT</h3>
<p>The wayfarers came to a halt before the Wanderers'
Gate. The wall of the city stood before
them, and stretched away to a great distance
on either hand. People were going in and out at the
gate; some on foot, driving donkeys before them, some
on horseback, some in wagons, and all brisk and talkative.
The Third Vice-President received a respectful
greeting from several of those on horseback. He
turned to his companions with a wave of the hand,
and said:</p>
<p>"The Wanderers' Bazaar!"</p>
<p>On each side of the open gate, at the foot of the
high thick wall, was what appeared to be a fair. As
far as the eye could see, the base of the wall was lined
with booths, each with an awning over it from the
wall behind, gaily striped in orange and blue and
yellow and brown. In these booths was spread out in
disorderly profusion a mass of merchandise of all
kinds; gold and silver ornaments, brass and copper
vessels, rugs and carpets, spectacles and clocks, toys
and games, herbs and ointments, fish-nets and sailors'
instruments, canes and crutches, ribbons and laces, perfumery,
precious stones—things innumerable; even parrots
and monkeys, in cages; in one booth was a potter,
twirling his potter's wheel; in another a fortune-teller,
laying little sticks down in curious patterns on his table;
in another a man pasting on cards bits of coloured
feathers, in the form of tiny birds and fowls, most life-like;<!-- Page 179 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</SPAN></span>
in another a glass-blower, delicately twining a
thread of spun glass for the rigging of a ship; in
another a man sitting on a rug with a snake before
him, whose flat head stood stiffly up from his coil, and
waved a little to the motion of his master's finger; in
another, a man was bending over a flower-pot with a
wand in his hand, and as he moved the wand a stalk
grew from the pot and at its end a bud appeared and
unfolded into a flower before the very eyes of his audience;
in another a great ape was marking down figures
with chalk as his master called them; in another a
shuttle was weaving back and forth in a loom; there
seemed to be no end to the curious and diverting things
to be seen in those booths. The people in them were
apparently of all the nations of the earth; there were
brown men and yellow men and black men, as well as
white; men with slant eyes, with round eyes, with flat
noses, with beak-noses, with wooly hair, with straight
hair; there were turbans, and fezzes, and hoods, and
white gowns, and coloured robes, and velvet jackets,
and cotton blouses; and from all the venders rose such
a hubbub as Freddie had never in his life heard before,
except once in the Gaunt Street Theatre at home. A
lively crowd chaffered with the venders and walked in
the paved street before their booths. It was a scene
full of life and colour, and Freddie was transported
with delight.</p>
<p>"Oh!" he said, "can't we get down here and see all
those sights? I should like to spend the whole day
here!"</p>
<p>"We've got other fish to fry just now, Freddie,"
said Toby. "We'll have to see this some other time."</p>
<p>"It is a precious thought," said the Sly Old Fox,
"that we have here with us on our mules enough treasure
to buy this whole bazaar, if we wished to do it.
It is a beautiful thought."</p>
<p>"Six 'undred paces to the right!" said Mr. Punch.<!-- Page 180 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Shiraz the Rug-Merchant!" said Toby. "By the
looks of it, there must be about five hundred rug-merchants
along there."</p>
<p>"What was the number we were to find him by?"
said Aunt Amanda.</p>
<p>"It's 3103101," said Toby.</p>
<p>"You are quite mistaken," said Mr. Punch. "Hit's
3013101."</p>
<p>"That's exactly what I said," said Toby.</p>
<p>"Excuse me," said the Old Codger with the Wooden
Leg, "it seems to me that it is—er—3101301."</p>
<p>"My recollection is," said the Churchwarden, "that
it is 3031010."</p>
<p>"I am sorry to differ," said the Sly Old Codger,
"but I am perfectly sure it is 3013010."</p>
<p>"Why don't you look at the paper?" said Aunt
Amanda, in an exasperated tone.</p>
<p>Everyone looked at everyone else to produce the
paper, but no one produced it.</p>
<p>"I regret to confess it," said the Third Vice-President,
placidly, "but I have a distinct recollection of
having left it on the table at Low Dudgeon. Never
mind, it is perfectly safe."</p>
<p>"Well!" said Aunt Amanda. "Isn't that a perfect
shame! Whatever are we going to do? And where's
the map? Freddie, have you got the map?"</p>
<p>Freddie looked in all his pockets. "No'm," said he.
"It isn't here."</p>
<p>"I recall distinctly," said the Third Vice-President,
without any sign of worry, "that the map was left on
the table at Low Dudgeon with the other paper."</p>
<p>"Merciful fathers!" exclaimed Aunt Amanda. "And
you've left the map behind too! I never yet see a man
that had a head on him worth a—Now listen to me; is
there anyone that remembers the words the paper said
we had to say to the——"</p>
<p>"Ah! madam," said the Third Vice-President.<!-- Page 181 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</SPAN></span>
"There I can be of assistance, I fancy. The words are
derived from the Persian, and I am accordingly familiar
with them. 'Shagli Jamshid Shahriman.' Am
I right, gentlemen?"</p>
<p>The Daft Committee nodded their heads in assent.</p>
<p>"Then I see no reason," said the Third Vice-President,
"why we should not proceed."</p>
<p>"Come on then," said Toby. "I'll get down and
pace off the six hundred steps, and see where we come
to."</p>
<p>The party moved slowly through the crowd, along
the booths, while Toby walked beside them, carefully
counting his steps.</p>
<p>"Five hundred and eighty," said he. "Five hundred
and ninety. Ninety-five. Six hundred"; and stopped.
The procession stopped also, and all of the riders got
down from their mules. Many of the passers-by gazed
curiously at them, and some paused for a moment before
going on; but no one seemed to take more than
a passing interest. One of the Committee led the mules
to the open side of the street, where they would be out
of the way, and stood guard over them. The others
joined Toby in front of the booth at which he was
now standing.</p>
<p>It was not the kind of booth they were seeking at
all. There were no rugs nor carpets of any kind; only
clocks and watches, a great number of them, and a
few sundials and hour-glasses. Behind the counter
stood a lad of about twenty, very dark of skin, with
snapping black eyes and shining white teeth which
showed as he now bowed and smiled; a white turban
on his head, and a loose white robe hanging from his
shoulders. He was slim and sleek, and his fingers were
very long and delicate. He rubbed his hands together
as the riders dismounted, and commenced to chatter to
them in an unknown tongue, bowing and smiling the
while. His wares were displayed about him on shelves<!-- Page 182 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</SPAN></span>
and boxes and tables, as well as on the counter, and
the clocks and watches, as usual in such places, showed
all hours of the twelve. A striped awning of orange
and blue, fastened at the rear to the side of the city
wall, shielded him and his booth from the sun. Behind
him in the wall was a closed iron door.</p>
<p>"We're in the wrong shop," said Toby to his companions.
"Some mistake. Anyway, here goes." And
addressing the young man behind the counter, he said:
"Good-afternoon. We are looking for Mr. Shiraz
the Rug-Merchant. This don't look much like a rug
shop, but maybe you can tell us. Shiraz; that's his
name."</p>
<p>"No understand," said the young man, rubbing his
hands and bowing pleasantly.</p>
<p>"Shiraz," said Toby. "Think. Shiraz. Easy
word, Shiraz. You understand?"</p>
<p>"Clocks and watches," said the young man. "Sundials.
You buy?"</p>
<p>"No, no," said Toby. "We no buy. Want Shiraz.
Confound it, that's an easy word, ain't it? Shiraz!
Can't you understand that?"</p>
<p>"No sell Shiraz," said the young man. "Clocks and
watches."</p>
<p>"Look here," said Toby, "what's the number of this
place?"</p>
<p>"No number," said the young man, looking puzzled
and shaking his head. "Clocks and watches."</p>
<p>"By crackey," said Toby, "we're in the wrong place
sure enough."</p>
<p>Now while this talk was going on, Freddie had made
a discovery. He had noticed, on a box at the rear,
against the wall, a row of seven old clocks. They were
battered and broken, and were evidently long since
out of repair; two of them had no hands. Like most
of the clocks in the place, they were stopped, and had
probably, from the looks of them, ceased many years<!-- Page 183 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</SPAN></span>
before to keep time. He noted idly the time shown by
each of these clocks, and started in surprise. The hour
shown by the first clock at the left was three o'clock.
That shown by the next was one o'clock. The next
had no hands, and showed no time at all. The next
showed one o'clock, the next three o'clock, the next one
o'clock, and the seventh had no hands. He ran his
eye over them again, and the numbers which resulted
were 3101310.</p>
<p>"Come along," said Toby. "We might as well ask
at some of these other shops. There ain't no use wasting
time here."</p>
<p>He moved away, and the others followed him
towards the adjoining booth. The teeth of the dark
young man shone white, and he bowed politely to the
departing strangers.</p>
<p>Freddie pulled at Toby's coat, and whispered in his
ear. Toby listened, and without a word led the party
back to the booth.</p>
<p>"Now see here, young feller," said he, "I've got
your number, and I don't want no nonsense. I reckon
you can understand numbers, if you can't understand
anything else." He fixed his eyes on the row of old
clocks at the rear. "Listen to this, my young friend:
3-1-0-1-3-1-0."</p>
<p>The smile left the young man's face. He seemed a
trifle uneasy. His long fingers rested on the counter,
and he leaned forward intently.</p>
<p>"No understand," said he.</p>
<p>"By crackey," said Toby, "this beats all. Where's
Shiraz? We're in the right place, and we want Shiraz.
Out with him!"</p>
<p>"Clocks and watches," said the young man, but this
time somewhat nervously. "You buy?"</p>
<p>"Buy nothing!" cried Toby. "We want to see
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant. Professor," said he, turning<!-- Page 184 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</SPAN></span>
round, "what's the words to bring out Shiraz the
Rug-Merchant?"</p>
<p>"Shagli Jamshid Shahriman!" said the Third Vice-President,
in a loud voice.</p>
<p>Instantly the manner of the young man changed.
Crossing his arms upon his breast, he made a low
salaam, and spoke with the utmost deference.</p>
<p>"I trust you will pardon," said he, "my seeming lack
of courtesy. It is necessary to exercise a certain caution.
There are wicked spirits, assuming from time to
time the most unlikely forms, who seek to gain access
to my great-great-grandfather. His life is continually
in danger, for he possesses secrets which enable him
constantly to interfere with their designs. By reason
of this danger, he was obliged many years ago to retire
from the rug business, and he has lived ever since in
deep seclusion. It is your wish to see Shiraz the Persian?"</p>
<p>"You seem to speak English pretty good," said Toby.</p>
<p>"Perfectly, my lord. And twelve other tongues as
well. You desire to see my great-great-grandfather?"</p>
<p>"That's the exact idea," said Toby.</p>
<p>"Then I will beg your indulgence for a few moments."</p>
<p>The young man bowed again, and disappeared
through the doorway in the wall, closing the door behind
him. After a considerable absence he returned.</p>
<p>"If you will follow me," said he, "I will conduct
you to my great-great-grandfather."</p>
<p>"We will await your return here," said the Third
Vice-President to Toby and his companions. "It is
unnecessary for us to pursue this adventure further."</p>
<p>The Third Vice-President and his friends returned
to the mules, and the others followed the young man
to the door behind him in the wall. The door was
closed and locked behind them, and they found themselves<!-- Page 185 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</SPAN></span>
in darkness. "If you will come to me here,"
said the voice of the young man, a little in advance,
"I will show you the way down." When they felt
themselves near him, they heard his voice again. "Be
good enough to step carefully forward, until you feel
the first step of a descending stair. Then descend cautiously,
if you please." Each one put out a foot, and
in a moment they were all going down a stairway, of
which the treads were evidently of stone, much worn.</p>
<p>When they had gone down some thirty steps, they
were aware that the stair had ended, and that they
were on a landing. "You will now cross the bridge,
one by one, holding on to the railing," said the voice
of the young man. One by one the party stepped forward,
feeling the way cautiously, and as each in turn
found with his hand a slight wooden railing, a breath
of fresh air blew upon his face and the sound of rushing
water came from below. Instead of the firm stone
they had just been treading, they were conscious of
wooden planking under their feet, and it gave beneath
their pressure most uneasily. The bridge was a long
one, and the sound of rushing water followed them its
entire length. They walked again, however, on firm
ground, and heard the young man's voice before them.
"Be good enough to follow the right hand wall," it
said, "and turn with the wall."</p>
<p>Each right hand touched the surface of a wall, and
in a moment the wall made a turning to the right. In
another moment their progress was barred by a wall
in advance, and the voice of the young man spoke
from their midst. "You will kindly stoop as you go
in," said he, and at the same moment a round opening
appeared before them, dimly lit from within. It was
only large enough to admit a single person, stooping.
The young man entered first, and the others followed,
one by one. When they were all on the other side of<!-- Page 186 --><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</SPAN></span>
the door, the young man swung it noiselessly to, on its
hinges, and it was seen that it fitted accurately, so that
it was impossible to distinguish it from the wall.</p>
<p>They were in a small room, unfurnished except for
a table in the center, on which burned an oil lamp of
silver, in shape like a boat; the walls were bare, except
for certain shelves containing bottles of coloured
liquids, other bottles of coloured powders, mortars,
retorts, gas-burners, and huge dusty books. There appeared
to be no outlet from the room, but the young
man pressed his finger on a spot behind one of the
bottles on a shelf, and a circular door, like the one by
which they had entered, swung slowly open in the
opposite wall.</p>
<p>"We have arrived," said the young man. "Please
to follow."</p>
<p>He stooped and entered the circular doorway, and
the others, one by one, followed. They found themselves
in a rich and luxurious apartment, softly lighted
by a hanging lamp; in the center was a table, littered
with open books and scrolls of paper, and bearing
notably a great round globe of solid crystal.</p>
<p>Beside the table, on a divan, reclined what appeared
to be a dry and shriveled mummy.</p>
<hr class="major" />
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