Hadji was a merchant in the Great Bazaar of Stamboul. Being a pious Mohammedan, he was of course a married man, but even Turkish married men are not invulnerable to the charms of women who are not their legal wives. It happened one day, when possibly the engrossing power of his lawful wife's influence was feeble upon him, that a charming hanoum came to his shop to purchase some spices. After the departure of his fair visitor, Hadji, do what he might, could not drive her image from his mind's eye or her attractive influence from his heart. Furthermore, he was greatly puzzled by a tiny black bag containing twelve grains of wheat, which the hanoum had evidently forgotten.

Till a late hour that night did Hadji remain in his shop, in the hope that either the hanoum or one of her servants would come for the bag, and thus give him the means of seeing her again, or at least of learning where she lived. But Hadji was doomed to disappointment; and, much preoccupied, he returned to his house. There he sat, plunged in thought, unresponsive to his wife's conversation, and no doubt making mental comparisons between her and his visitor.

Hadji remained downcast day after day, and at last, giving way to the entreaties of his wife, who implored him to let her share his troubles, he frankly told her what had happened, and admitted that ever since that fatal day his soul had been in bondage to the fair unknown.

"Oh, husband," replied his wife, "and do you not under stand what that black bag containing the twelve grains of wheat means?"

"Alas! no," replied Hadji.

"Why, my husband, it is plain; plain as if it had been told. She lives in the Wheat Market, at house No. 12, with a black door."

Much excited, Hadji rushed off and found that there was a No. 12 in the Wheat Market, with a black door, so he promptly knocked. The door opened, and whom should he behold but the lady in question?

Instead of speaking to him, however, she threw a basin of water out into the street and then shut the door. Hadji did not know what to think of this. Mingled with feelings of gratitude to his wife for having so accurately directed him, there was some natural surprise and resentment at his strange reception. Having lingered about the doorway for a time he at length returned home. He greeted his wife more pleasantly than he had done for many days, and told her of his adventure.

"Why," said his wife, "don't you understand what the basin of water thrown out of the door means?"

"Alas! no," said Hadji.

"Veyh! Veyh! (an exclamation of pity) it means that at the back of the house there is a running stream, and that you must go to her that way."

Off rushed Hadji and found that his wife was right; there was a running stream at the back of the house, so he knocked at the back door. The hanoum, however, instead of opening it, came to the window, showed a mirror, reversed it, and then disappeared. Hadji lingered at the back of the house for a long time, but, seeing no further sign of life, he returned to his own home much dejected. On entering the door-way, his wife greeted him with: "Well, was it not as I told you?"

"Yes," said Hadji. "You are truly a wonderful woman, Mashallah! But I do not know why she came to the window and showed me a mirror both in front and back, instead of opening the door."

"Oh," said his wife, "that is very simple; she means that you must go when the face of the moon has reversed itself, about ten o'clock." The hour arrived, Hadji hurried off, and so did his wife; the one to see his love, and the other to inform the police.

Whilst Hadji and his charmer were talking in the garden the police seized them and carried them both off to prison; and Hadji's wife, having accomplished her mission, returned home.

The next morning she baked a quantity of lokma cakes, and, taking them to the prison, begged entrance of the guards, and permission to distribute those cakes to the prisoners, for the repose of the souls of her dead. This being a request which could not be denied, she was allowed to enter. Finding the cell in which the lady who had infatuated her husband was confined, she offered to save her the disgrace of the exposure, provided she would consent never again to cast loving eyes upon Hadji, the merchant.

Those conditions were gratefully accepted, and Hadji's wife changed places with the prisoner.

When they were brought before the judge, Hadji was thunderstruck to see his wife, but, being a wise man, he held his peace, and left her to do the talking, which she did most vigorously.

Vehemently did she protest against the insult inflicted on both her and her husband. What right had the police to bring them to prison, because they chose to converse in a garden, seeing that they were lawfully wedded people?

In witness of the fact that they were man and wife she called upon the bekdji (watchmen) and the imam (priest) of the district and several of her neighbours.

Poor Hadji was dumbfounded, as, accompanied by his better half, he soon after left the prison where he had expected to stay at least a year or two. "Truly thou art a wonderful woman, Mashallah" That is all he was able to say.