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<title>the alchemist</title>
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<h6>Author</h6>
<h1>Paulo Coelho</h1>
<h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6>
<p id="paragraph">
The boy closed his book. He felt that he didn’t want to do
anything that might make him look like the Englishman. He took
Urim and Thummim from his pocket, and began playing with them.
The stranger shouted, “Urim and Thummim!”
In a flash the boy put them back in his pocket.
“They’re not for sale,” he said.
“They’re not worth much,” the Englishman answered. “They’re
only made of rock crystal, and there are millions of rock crystals in
the earth. But those who know about such things would know that
those are Urim and Thummim. I didn’t know that they had them in
this part of the world.”
“They were given to me as a present by a king,” the boy said.
The stranger didn’t answer; instead, he put his hand in his
pocket, and took out two stones that were the same as the boy’s.
“Did you say a king?” he asked.
“I guess you don’t believe that a king would talk to someone like
me, a shepherd,” he said, wanting to end the conversation.
“Not at all. It was shepherds who were the first to recognize a
king that the rest of the world refused to acknowledge. So, it’s not
surprising that kings would talk to shepherds.”
And he went on, fearing that the boy wouldn’t understand what
he was talking about, “It’s in the Bible. The same book that taught
me about Urim and Thummim. These stones were the only form of
divination permitted by God. The priests carried them in a golden
breastplate.”
The boy was suddenly happy to be there at the warehouse.
“Maybe this is an omen,” said the Englishman, half aloud.
“Who told you about omens?” The boy’s interest was increasing
by the moment.
“Everything in life is an omen,” said the Englishman, now closing
the journal he was reading. “There is a universal language,
understood by everybody, but already forgotten. I am in search of
that universal language, among other things. That’s why I’m here. I
have to find a man who knows that universal language. An
alchemist.”
The conversation was interrupted by the warehouse boss.
“You’re in luck, you two,” the fat Arab said. “There’s a caravan
leaving today for Al-Fayoum.”
“But I’m going to Egypt,” the boy said.
“Al-Fayoum is in Egypt,” said the Arab. “What kind of Arab are
you?”
“That’s a good luck omen,” the Englishman said, after the fat
Arab had gone out. “If I could, I’d write a huge encyclopedia just
about the words luck and coincidence. It’s with those words that the
universal language is written.”
He told the boy it was no coincidence that he had met him with
Urim and Thummim in his hand. And he asked the boy if he, too,
were in search of the alchemist.
“I’m looking for a treasure,” said the boy, and he immediately
regretted having said it. But the Englishman appeared not to attach
any importance to it.
“In a way, so am I,” he said.
“I don’t even know what alchemy is,” the boy was saying, when
the warehouse boss called to them to come outside.
“I’M THE LEADER OF THE CARAVAN,” SAID A DARK-EYED, bearded man. “I
hold the power of life and death for every person I take with me.
The desert is a capricious lady, and sometimes she drives men
crazy.”
</p>
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<h5 class="pageNumber">Page 29</h5>
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