noon
Never had the son of Yâcûb known such happiness as he tasted in those rides across the plain which basked in sunshine , with violet mountains before them and a gleam of the sea behind . Here they traversed a mud-village plumed with palms , its narrow ways alive with dogs , and fowls , and children , where Iskender shouted , `` Way for the Emîr ! '' till men and women bowed their heads and praised him ; there an olive-grove profuse of dappled shade , where they were content to let their horses walk at ease . In their saddle-bags was much good food from the hotel , which they devoured at noon in some secluded spot ; when Elias would discourse to them of strange vicissitudes , of beggars suddenly uplifted to the height of honour , and the Emîr , reclining lazily , would smile and wink privately at Iskender , who , at every such mark of preferment , longed to kiss his feet . No marvel yet related by Elias could compare with his own good fortune in Iskender 's eyes . One evening , on their return to the hotel , when two stable-boys were leading off the tired horses , and Iskender , with Elias , stood waiting to take leave of his kind lord , the negro brought a little card to the Emîr , who eyed it strangely . `` It is that missionary-man you hate so , '' he informed Iskender .