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<h6>Author</h6>
<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
<p id="paragraph">
But he didn’t need to worry about that right now. What he had
to be concerned about was his treasure, and how he was going to go
about getting it. The sale of his sheep had left him with enough
money in his pouch, and the boy knew that in money there was
magic; whoever has money is never really alone. Before long, maybe
in just a few days, he would be at the Pyramids. An old man, with a
breastplate of gold, wouldn’t have lied just to acquire six sheep.
The old man had spoken about signs and omens, and, as the boy
was crossing the strait, he had thought about omens. Yes, the old
man had known what he was talking about: during the time the boy
had spent in the fields of Andalusia, he had become used to learning
which path he should take by observing the ground and the sky. He
had discovered that the presence of a certain bird meant that a
snake was nearby, and that a certain shrub was a sign that there
was water in the area. The sheep had taught him that.
If God leads the sheep so well, he will also lead a man, he
thought, and that made him feel better. The tea seemed less bitter.
“Who are you?” he heard a voice ask him in Spanish.
The boy was relieved. He was thinking about omens, and
someone had appeared.
“How come you speak Spanish?” he asked. The new arrival was a
young man in Western dress, but the color of his skin suggested he
was from this city. He was about the same age and height as the boy.
“Almost everyone here speaks Spanish. We’re only two hours
from Spain.”
“Sit down, and let me treat you to something,” said the boy. “And
ask for a glass of wine for me. I hate this tea.”
“There is no wine in this country,” the young man said. “The
religion here forbids it.”
The boy told him then that he needed to get to the Pyramids. He
almost began to tell about his treasure, but decided not to do so. If
he did, it was possible that the Arab would want a part of it as
payment for taking him there. He remembered what the old man
had said about offering something you didn’t even have yet.
“I’d like you to take me there if you can. I can pay you to serve as
my guide.”
“Do you have any idea how to get there?” the newcomer asked.
The boy noticed that the owner of the bar stood nearby,
listening attentively to their conversation. He felt uneasy at the
man’s presence. But he had found a guide, and didn’t want to miss
out on an opportunity.
“You have to cross the entire Sahara desert,” said the young man.
“And to do that, you need money. I need to know whether you have
enough.”
The boy thought it a strange question. But he trusted in the old
man, who had said that, when you really want something, the
universe always conspires in your favor.
He took his money from his pouch and showed it to the young
man. The owner of the bar came over and looked, as well. The two
men exchanged some words in Arabic, and the bar owner seemed
irritated.
“Let’s get out of here,” said the new arrival. “He wants us to
leave.”
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 15</h5>
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