The enemy was repelled. But victory was not won. The war dragged on for a year and there was no decision. Gold grew scarce, and again the Government was in despair.

I easily relieved them. “Write,” I said, “promises on paper to be repaid in gold.” They did as I advised – paying me (at my request) a trifle of half a million for the advice. I handled the affair – on a merely nominal profit. I punctually met for another year every note that was paid in. But too many were presented, for the war seemed unending and entered a third year.

Then did I conceive yet another stupendous thing. “Bid them,” said I to the Sultan, “take the notes as money. Cease to repay. Write, not ‘I will on delivery of this paper pay a piece of gold,’ but, ‘this is a piece of gold.’”

He did as I told him. The next day the Vizier came to me with the story of an insolent fellow to whom fifty such notes had been offered as payment for a camel for the war and who had sent back, not a camel, but another piece of paper on which was written “This is a camel.”

“Cut off his head!” said I.

It was done, and the warning sufficed. The paper was taken and the war proceeded.