He was
even now kneeling upon a prayer-mat reciting a four-bow prayer. As
for the master, for two days he had not eaten; he merely swallowed
a cup of coffee in the morning because Achmet wept. This afternoon
he had fled to his violin for relief. Verily, God was afflicting
them! "The bad fortune of the good turns his face to heaven, even as
the good fortune of the bad bends his head to the earth. It is the
will of God: _Islam_!" said The Jinnee, simply.
"I must see Mr. Jelnik, now, this minute! I have news for him," I
said hastily.
The Jinnee looked doubtful. Plainly, he didn't want his master
disturbed, even by me. "I have never seen him like this before," he
told me. "Listen!"
Came the cries of the violin, heart-rending cries of regret and
despair, followed by furious protests; then a nobler grief, and
love, and longing.
"After a while it will pray for him. Then Satan the stoned, whom may
God confound, will depart from him," said Achmet.
"But in the meantime I must see him, immediately."
"He goes to-morrow. That is why he is afflicted to-day," said The
Jinnee. "I think, _hanoum_, he would go without seeing you again.
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