"I'd like you to take me there if you can. I can pay you to serve as my guide." "Do you have any idea how to get there?" the newcomer asked.
The boy noticed that the owner of the bar stood nearby, listening to their conversation. He felt uneasy at the man's presence. But he had found a guide, and didn't want to miss out on an opportunity.
"You have to cross the entire Sahara desert," said the young man. "And to do that, you need money. I need to know whether you have enough."
The boy thought it a strange question. But he trusted in the old man, who had said that, when you really want something, the universe always in your favor.
He took his money from his and showed it to the young man. The owner of the bar came over and looked, as well. The two men exchanged some words in Arabic, and the bar owner seemed irritated.
"Let's get out of here" said the new arrival. "He wants us to leave."
The boy was relieved. He got up to pay the bill, but the owner grabbed him and began to speak to him in an angry stream of words. The boy was strong, and wanted to , but he was in a foreign country. His new friend pushed the owner aside, and pulled the boy outside with him. "He wanted your money," he said. "Tangier is not like the rest of Africa. This is a port, and every port has its thieves."
The boy trusted his new friend. He had helped him out in a dangerous situation. He took out his money and counted it.
"We could get to the Pyramids by tomorrow," said the other, taking the money. "But I have to buy two camels."
They walked together through the narrow streets of Tangier. Everywhere there were stalls with items for sale. They reached the center of a large where the market was held. There were thousands of people there, arguing, selling, and buying; vegetables for sale amongst , and carpets displayed alongside tobacco. But the boy never took his eye off his new friend. After all, he had all his money. He thought about asking him to give it back, but that would be unfriendly. He knew nothing about the customs of the strange land he was in.
"I'll just watch him," he said to himself. He knew he was stronger than his friend.
Suddenly, there in the midst of all that confusion, he saw the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. The scabbard was embossed in silver, and the handle was black and encrusted with precious stones. The boy promised himself that, when he returned from Egypt, he would buy that sword.
"Ask the owner of that stall how much the sword costs," he said to his friend. Then he realized that he had been distracted for a few moments, looking at the sword. His heart squeezed, as if his chest had suddenly compressed it. He was afraid to look around, because he knew what he would find. He continued to look at the beautiful sword for a bit longer, until he summoned the courage to turn around.
All around him was the market, with people coming and going, shouting and buying, and the of strange foods… but nowhere could he find his new companion.
The boy wanted to believe that his friend had simply become separated from him by accident. He decided to stay right there and await his return. As he waited, a priest climbed to the top of a nearby tower and began his chant; everyone in the market fell to their knees, touched their foreheads to the ground, and took up the chant. Then, like a colony of worker ants, they their stalls and left.