“ ‘What say you?’ says Amina. ‘An Iman: you don’t consider: the marchioness wants only a Marabou, whom she will call from time to time, when it rains, or when she chooses to have the Sala, before she goes to bed: but an Iman lodged, clothed, dieted in her house, with a salary, does not suit Bibicosa. I know her affairs. The poor woman has not six thousand Zecchins a year, and you expect her to give two thousand of it to an Iman. Surely this is a strange fancy.’

“ ‘By Brama,’ replied the holy man, ‘I am sorry for it: for if I had once got to be her Iman, I should soon become more necessary to her; and when one is got thus far, it rains gold and pensions. Howsoever I may appear to you, I am of Monomotapa, and do my duty extremely well.’

“ ‘Upon second thoughts,’ answered Amina, with panting interruptions, ‘your affair is not perhaps impossible. Pity it is, that the merit you speak of is not known.’