He alighted at the so-called strangers' khan and, hiring himself a
cell, took rest therein for a while, then he fared forth and
wandered about the highways that he might discern some path which
would aid him unto the winning of his ill-minded wish; to wit, of
wreaking upon Aladdin blood revenge for his brother. Presently he
entered a coffeehouse, a fine building which stood in the market place
and which collected a throng of folk to play, some at the mankalah,
others at the backgammon, and others at the chess and what not else.
There he sat down and listened to those seated beside him, and they
chanced to be conversing about an ancient dame and a holy, by name
Fatimah, who dwelt away at her devotions in a hermitage without the
town, and this she never entered save only two days each month. They
mentioned also that she had performed many saintly miracles, which
when the Maghrabi, the necromancer, heard he said in himself: "Now
have I found that which I sought. Inshallah- God willing- by means of
this crone will I will to my wish."
The necromancer went up to the folk who were talking of the miracles
performed by the devout old woman and said to one of them: "O my
uncle, I heard you an chatting about the prodigies of a certain
saintess named Fatimah.
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