Chapter LV — Of the man Hajji Baba meets, thinking him dead; and of the marriage which he brings about
Having accomplished this part of my business, I strolled to one of the most frequented caravanserais in the city, to see whether, perchance, some circumstance might not turn up to advance my master's views. As I approached it, I found all the avenues blocked up with mules and camels heavily laden, intermixed with travellers, some of whom wearing a white band, the distinguishing mark of the pilgrims who have visited the tomb of Iman Reza, at Meshed, informed me that the caravan came from the province of Khorassan. I waited to see it gradually unravel from the maze of the narrow streets, and, after a due allowance of wrangling and abuse between the mule and camel drivers, I saw it take up its abode in the square of the building.
'Perhaps', said I, 'my good stars may throw some of my former acquaintance at Meshed into my way'; and I looked at each traveller with great earnestness. It was true that many years had now elapsed since my memorable bastinado, and that time would have made great changes in the appearances of men; but still, I, who knew each face by heart, and had studied its expression as it inhaled my smoke, hoped that my recollection would not fail me.
I had despaired of making a discovery, and was about to walk away, when a certain nose, a certain round back, and a certain projecting paunch, met my eye, and arrested my attention.
'Those forms are familiar to me,' said I; 'they are connected with some of my early ideas; and assuredly are the property of one who is something more than a common acquaintance.' My first master, Osman Aga, came into my mind; but all idea of him I immediately banished, because it was more than certain that he had long since fallen a victim to the horrors of his captivity among the Turcomans. Still I looked at him, and at every glance I felt convinced it was either he, his brother, or his ghost. I approached to where he was seated, in the hope of hearing him speak; but he seemed to be torpid (which was another characteristic in favour of my suspicion), and I had waited some time in vain, when, to my surprise, I heard him, in a voice well known to my ears, inquire of a merchant who was passing, 'In God's name, what may be the price of lambs' skins at Constantinople?'
'Oh, for once,' said I, 'I cannot be mistaken! You can be no one but Osman,'—and I immediately made myself known to him.
He was as slow to believe that it was Hajji Baba who accosted him, as I had been to make him out Osman Aga.