"This woman has already been married ten years and has no children. She has made a pilgrimage to Mulay Brahim and has employed every sort of talisman, but it is all of no avail. Her husband is now asking the cadi to divorce them, and she is pleading that he grant her just one year more."
In the meantime the despairing, childless wife continued to weep, and between her wails we caught the words:
"Ja Bu Medin! Ja Mulay Brahim! Ja Bel Hassen!"
She was imploring her husband's mercy in the name of these holy and wise saints, who knew all the hearts and troubles of men; but the unyielding husband only waved his hand and turned away to the mahakma, or the magistrate's office, which was near by. With a groan the woman sank to the pavement and began to beat her forehead against the kubba of the Wali, who could not help her in her need. As she struck her head against the stones, she continued to wail mournfully:
"Oh great, oh merciful, oh just Bel Hassen! Give aid, give aid!"
The crowd streamed on by, apparently unmoved and indifferent, hardened to such sights and engrossed in its own troubles, from which it sought relief at either the tomb of the holy Bel Hasen or the office of the stout cadi. Suddenly the woman arose and continued her lamentations, from which I caught only the oft-repeated:
"Seida Reriba!"
"What is she saying now?" I asked Mahomet.
"She declares that Seida Reriba, a saint who is greatly revered in Tlemsen, has appeared in her house and wept
