'What saddening grief, my Lord, assails you now?
Why sits this pallor on your noble brow?
Does Allah lend your plans no helping hand?
Or cruel Ali, with severe command,
Remove to other shores the beauteous dame,
Who charmed your eyes and set your heart on flame!'

But we are not making a tragedy, so we must do without our confidant,
though he would be very convenient.

Our hero is not what he appears to be. The turban does not make the
Turk. This young man is our friend Rodolphe, entertained by his uncle,
for whom he is drawing up a manual of "The Perfect Chimney Constructor."
In fact, Monsieur Monetti, an enthusiast for his art, had consecrated
his days to this science of chimneys. One day he formed the idea of
drawing up, for the benefit of posterity, a theoretic code of the
principles of that art, in the practice of which he so excelled, and he
had chosen his nephew, as we have seen, to frame the substance of his
ideas in an intelligible form. Rodolphe was found in board, lodging, and
other contingencies, and at the completion of the manual was to receive
a recompense of three hundred francs.

In the beginning, to encourage his nephew, Monetti had generously made
him an advance of fifty francs. But Rodolphe, who had not seen so much
silver together for nearly a year, half crazy, in company with his
money, stayed out three days, and on the fourth came home alone!
Thereupon the uncle, who was in haste to have his "Manual" finished
inasmuch as he hoped to get a patent for it, dreading some new diversion
on his nephew's part, determined to make him work by preventing him from