As the drug began to work on them with ever greater force, they became extremely animated, laughing and speaking with great volubility – especially the stranger, who, having always strictly observed the prohibitions of his religion, had never before tasted this preparation and therefore felt its effects all the more strongly. It was as if he had fallen prey to some extraordinary exaltation. Heretofore unheard-of and inconceivable thoughts swarmed through his mind like a whirlwind of fire; his eyes gleamed as if lit up from within by the reflection of an unknown universe; he carried himself with all the dignity of some superhuman creature. Then, as the vision gradually died away, he slumped back into the cushions, surrendering himself to the beatific state of kef.

‘Well, my friend,’ said Yousouf, taking advantage of this hiatus in the stranger’s inebriation, ‘what do you think of this fine pistachio jam? Will you continue to rail against all the good people who inconspicuously gather together in lowly inns just to pursue happiness after their own fashion?’

‘Hashish makes you the equal of God,’ said the stranger in a slow, deep voice.

‘Exactly,’ Yousouf replied with enthusiasm, ‘water-drinkers are only aware of the gross, material dimension of things. Even as it clouds our corporeal vision, intoxication clarifies our spiritual vision. The mind, set free from the heavy bondage of the body, flees away like a prisoner whose guard has fallen asleep, leaving the keys at the prison gate. Free to wander joyfully through space and light as he pleases, he stops for friendly chats with the various geniuses he meets on the way and is dazzled by their sudden and enticing revelations. A gentle wing-beat is all he needs to launch himself into the empyrean of unspeakable joy, covering immense distances in the span of a minute that seems to last an eternity, so rapidly do these sensations follow upon each other. As for me, there is a dream that never fails to return, always identical, always varied. As I retire to my cangia, still reeling from the splendour of my visions, and close my eyes to the glittering cascade of jacinths, carbuncles, emeralds and rubies which provide the background against which hashish elaborates its marvellous fantasies, I see a heavenly figure emerging as it were from the midst of infinity, fairer than anything ever created by the poets, smiling upon me with a heart-rending sweetness, and floating down through the firmament to be by my side. Is she an angel or a peri? I have no way of knowing. She sits down beside me in the boat, transforming its crude wood into mother-of-pearl and setting it adrift on a river of silver, its sails billowing with a breeze of perfumes.’

‘A most unusual and auspicious vision!’ muttered the stranger, nodding his head.

‘But this is not all,’ Yousouf continued. ‘One night, having taken a slightly weaker dose, I was roused from my inebriation as my cangia was floating past the tip of the isle of Roddah. A woman resembling the female figure in my dream was bending over me, gazing at me with eyes which, though decidedly human, none the less had something supernatural in their gleam. Her veil had slipped slightly to the side, revealing a vest stiff with jewels that glinted in the rays of the moon. My hand met hers; the softness of her skin, as fresh and creamy as the petal of a flower, the feel of her ornate rings against my fingers were enough to convince me of her reality.’

‘Near the isle of Roddah?’ the stranger said to himself pensively.

‘This was no dream,’ Yousouf continued, without paying much mind to the remark his newly found confidant had just made, ‘the hashish had merely amplified a memory that had been buried in the depths of my soul, for this divine face was clearly familiar to me. Where had I seen it before? In what world had we previously met? What other life had brought us together? I do not have the answer. All I can say is that this strange encounter, this bizarre adventure, caused me no surprise whatsoever. It seemed to me entirely natural that this woman, who was the perfect realization of my ideal, should find herself there in my cangia, in the middle of the Nile, as if she had leapt forth from the calyx of one of those large flowers that drift up to the surface of the water. Without asking for any explanation, I threw myself at her feet and, as if addressing the peri of my dream, declared my love in the most impassioned and sublime fashion imaginable. The words that came to me imbued with immense significance; the expressions I used contained entire universes of thought; the echo of vanished worlds vibrated through my mysterious turns of phrase. My soul was expanding towards the past and the future. As I expressed my love, I was convinced it was something I had felt for an eternity.

‘As I spoke, I saw her large eyes catch fire, releasing streams of electricity; her transparent hands were reaching towards me and tapering off into beams of light. Feeling myself enfolded in a net of flames, I slipped back into my previous night’s dream despite myself. When I was finally able to shake myself out of the delicious and overpowering torpor that had seized my limbs, I found myself sitting on the shore, leaning against a palm tree, gazing out towards Gizeh. My black servant was peacefully asleep next to the cangia, which he had pulled up on to the sand. The horizon was fringed with a glow of pink; day was about to break.’

‘A love like this goes beyond anything commonly felt by mortals,’ said the stranger without raising the least objection to the implausibility of Yousouf’s story, for with hashish wonders never cease.

‘I have never shared this incredible tale with anyone before. Why have I told it to you, an utter stranger? It’s difficult for me to explain. I’m drawn to you by some mysterious attraction. When you entered this room, a voice cried out within me: “Here he is at last.” All the secret cares that were gnawing at me have been calmed by your coming.