The Jew to whom I applied traded with me also, upon the belief that my brother Saladin, with whose character and circumstances he was acquainted, would pay my debts if I should fall.

With the money I raised from the Jew I continually bought coffee and opium, of which I grew immoderately fond.

In the delirium it created I forgot all my misfortunes, all fear of the future.
"One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity of opium, I was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing, like a madman, and repeating that I was not now Murad the Unlucky.

Whilst these words were on my lips, a friendly spectator, who was in possession of his sober senses, caught me by the arm, and attempted to drag me from the place where I was exposing myself.

'Do you not see,' said he, 'those soldiers, who are firing at a mark?
I saw one of them, just now, deliberately taking aim at your turban; and observe, he is now reloading his piece.' My ill luck prevailed even at this instant--the only instant in my life when I defied its power.