An aged hermit named Sergius dwelt in the wilds of Arabia, addicting
himself to the pursuit of religion and alchemy. Of his creed it could only
be said that it was so much better than that of his neighbours as to cause
him to be commonly esteemed a Yezidi, or devil worshipper. But the better
informed deemed him a Nestorian monk, who had retired into the wilderness
on account of differences with his brethren, who sought to poison him.

The imputation of Yezidism against Sergius was the cause that a certain
inquisitive young man resorted to him, trusting to obtain light concerning
the nature of demons. But he found that Sergius could give him no
information on that subject, but, on the contrary, discoursed so wisely and
beautifully on holy things, that his pupil's intellect was enlightened, and
his enthusiasm was inflamed, and he longed to go forth and instruct the
ignorant people around him; the Saracens, and the Sabaeans, and the
Zoroastrians, and the Carmathians, and the Baphometites, and the
Paulicians, who are a remnant of the ancient Manichees.

"Nay, good youth," said Sergius, "I have renounced the sending forth of
missionaries, having made ample trial with my spiritual son, the Prophet
Abdallah."

"What!" exclaimed the youth, "was Abdallah the Adite thy disciple?"

"Even so," said Sergius. "Hearken to his history.

"Never have I instructed so promising a pupil as Abdallah, nor when he was
first my disciple do I deem that he was other than the most simple-minded
and well-intentioned of youths. I always called him son, a title I have
never bestowed on another. Like thee, he had compassion on the darkness
around him, and craved my leave to go forth and dispel it.