How he bore himself being there, with what harmless deceptions he unburdened his soul by stealth, what guileless pretences he made that he might restore to the poor the money that had been stolen from them, would be a long story to tell.
"Who are you ?" he was asked a hundred times.
"A friend," he answered "Who told you of our trouble ?" "Allah has angels," he would reply.
Often, on his nightly rambles, he heard himself reviled, and saw the very children of the streets spit over their fingers at the mention of his name.

And sometimes as he passed he heard blind people whisper together and say, "He is a saint.

He comes from the Kabar at nightfall.
Allah sends him to help poor men who have been in the clutches of Israel the Jew." Nevertheless, Israel kept his secret.

What did the word of man avail for good or evil?
It would count for nothing at the last.

Do justice and ask nought; neither praise, for it was a wayward wind, nor gratitude, for it was the breath of angels.
One day, about a month after his return from his journey, when he was near to the end of his substance, a message came to him that the followers of Absalam were perishing of hunger in their prison at Shawan.
Their relatives in Tetuan had found them in food until now, but the plague of the locust had fallen on the bread-winners, and they had no more bread to send.