Jelālu-'d-Dīn was of the school of Abū-Hanīfa; but Husām belonged to that of Shāfi'ī.* He thought of joining the Hanefī school, out of deference to his teacher. Jelāl, however, recommended him to remain what he had always been, and to strive to inculcate to all the doctrine of divine love, as set forth by Jelāl.

After Jelāl's death, his widow, Kirā Khātūn, suggested to her stepson, Sultan Veled Bahā'u-'d-Dīn, that he ought to have succeeded his father as Rector of the fraternity, and not Husām.

Sultan Veled answered that it had been his father's bequest that Husām should succeed, that he himself had sworn the oath of fealty to Husām, and that Husām was now become a kind of spiritual beehive, through the incessant and multitudinous visitations of angelic minis­ters sent to him with messages from on high.

Husāmu-'d-Dīn had a gardener, whose name was Sheykh Muhammed. About four years after Jelāl's death, Husām had reason to reprimand the gardener, who took offence at this, and went away to another garden, resolved never to return to Husām's service.

As he sat reflecting, he fell asleep. In his dreams he saw Jelāl coming towards him, with an executioner by his side, who held up an axe. Jelāl ordered the executioner to cut off Muhammed's head, as the punishment for his having offended Husām.

This was done; and Muhammed saw his own head fall off, and his own blood flow. He knew that he was dead.

After a while he saw Jelāl return, pick up Muhammed's decapitated head, place it in proper junction with the neck of the corpse, and utter the exclamation: “In the name of God, with God, from God, and to God.” Muham­med saw himself instantly alive again, felt very penitent, threw himself at Jelāl's feet, and cried out piteously.

He now awoke and arose. No one was in sight. All traces of blood had vanished, and no sign of a wound was discernible on his neck. In all speed he returned to Husām's garden, and resumed his work with alacrity.

But now he saw Husām approaching, who said to him: “Well, Sheykh Muhammed! Until Jelālu-'d-Dīn chas­tised thee, thou wert no Muslim, and wert given over to stiffneckedness. Had not I interceded for thee, thou hadst been dead to all eternity, shut out from every hope of heaven.”

Muhammed protested his sincere repentance, became a dervish, and professed himself a disciple.

When Husāmu-'d-Dīn had faithfully executed for ten years, as a just and wise steward, all his duties as successor to Jelālu-'d-Dīn, he one day went, with his companions and disciples, to visit the shrine of his predecessor.

As he drew near to the mausoleum, information was brought to him that the gilt crescent surmounting the cupola had fallen down.

On the moment, Husām felt himself to be stricken. He asked for an examination of dates to be made, and found that ten years previously Jelāl had departed this life. He therefore said to those around him: “Lead me back home. The time for my dissolution is at hand.”

He was conducted to his chamber, where, a few days later, on Thursday, the twenty-second of Sha'bān, in the year A.H. 683 (4th November, A.D. 1284), he breathed his last exactly at the time when the gilt crescent was replaced over Jelāl's tomb, and the works brought to a close.

Shortly after the death of Husāmu-'d-Dīn, the widow of Jelāl, Kirā Khātūn, too, departed this life, and was buried by the side of her husband.

As her corpse was being borne towards its last resting-place, the procession passed through one of the gates of the town. Here, the bearers found themselves arrested by some unseen power, so that they could not move, hand or foot. This singular effect lasted for about half an hour.

Her stepson, Sultan Veled, with the other mourners, struck up a hymn, and commenced a holy dance. Soon after this, the bearers recovered the use of their limbs, and found themselves able to proceed. All now went well, and the interment was completed.

That same night, a holy man of the fraternity saw Kirā Khātūn in heaven near to her husband.* He inquired of her concerning the arrestation of the funeral. She informed him thus: “The day previous, a man and a woman had been stoned to death at that gate for the sin of adultery. I took compassion on them, interceded for their forgiveness, and obtained for them admittance to paradise. My preoccupation in their cause was the reason of the delay met with by the funeral procession.”

One day, while Jelāl was yet living, Satan appeared in person to Husāmu-'d-Dīn, and complained bitterly of the torments inflicted on him by the continuous pious exer­cises of Jelāl. He said that such was his deep reverence for Jelāl and his followers, that he dared not attempt to seduce one of them; and that, had he known that, of the seed of Adam, so holy a race of men were to spring, he never would have tempted the father of mankind. He further added: “I entertain a hope that the kindness of heart of his sons will lead them to intercede with Jelāl for me, and so obtain my eventual release and salvation.”

Husām related this occurrence to Jelāl, who smiled, and said: “There is reason to hope that he need not despair. God forbid that he should despair!”

Whenever the grandees of Qonya entertained a desire to have an audience of the Sheykh Shemsu-'d-Dīn of Tebrīz, during his lifetime, they used to request Husām to beg Jelāl to intercede for them with Shems, and so obtain for them the desired interview.

Jelāl and Husām used to tax those nobles for this favour, according to their means and circumstances.

On one occasion the Grand Vazīr solicited an audience, and was taxed at forty thousand pieces of silver; which, after much chaffering, was reduced to thirty thousand.

At his audience with Shems, the Vazīr was so charmed with the mysteries revealed to him, that, on his return therefrom, he voluntarily sent the ten thousand pieces of silver to Husām, which had been abated from the sum originally fixed.

These monies were always expended by Husām, as he saw fit, in relieving the necessities of the holy community, and the families of Jelāl, the Goldbeater, and their various dependants.