Chapter V (4)

The dwarf in return told her all his adventures, and she said: “I am not altogether ignorant of magic myself, having learnt some things from my father. What you tell me about the quarrel over the herb basket and your sudden transformation on smelling a certain herb proves to me that the old woman used some herb in her enchantment, and if you are able to find that herb you will probably regain your natural form.” This was small comfort for Long-Nose, for he had not the least idea where he could find such a herb. Still, he thanked her, and tried to be a little more hopeful too.

It was just at this time that the Duke had a visit from a neighbouring Prince, a friend of his.

He sent for Long-Nose and said to him: “Now is the time to prove if you serve me faithfully, and are a true master of your art. This Prince, who is now my guest, lives better than anyone I know, except myself. He prides himself upon the first-rate cooks he keeps and he is a very knowing man. Now be careful that my table is served daily with such dishes that may arouse his astonishment and envy. Never let the same kind of food appear twice during his visit. You may ask my treasurer for as much money as you require to purchase materials for your cooking. If you wanted to baste your roasts with gold and diamonds you should have them. I would sooner beggar myself than have to blush for the quality of my viands.”

The dwarf bowed and promised the Duke that he would so manage that the dainty palate of the Prince could not fail to approve of the dishes set before him.

The little cook exerted all his skill and spared neither his master’s treasures nor himself. All day long he was enveloped in a cloud of steam, out of which issued his voice giving orders to the other cooks and scullions. It would take too long to recount all the delicious foods he cooked, suffice it to say that for a whole fortnight the Duke and his guest were served as they had never been served before, and a smile of enjoyment was constantly to be seen upon the face of the royal visitor.

At the end of that time the Duke sent for the dwarf and presented him to the Prince, asking him, at the same time, what he thought of him as a cook.

“You are indeed a wonderful cook,” said the noble visitor to the little man. “During the whole of my stay here I have not had the same kind of dish twice. But I must own I have been surprised that you have never tempted our appetites with the queen of all dainties, a Souzeraine pasty.”

The dwarf was rather upset, for it chanced that he had never heard of this before, but he managed to hide his discomposure.

“Sir,” said he, “I had hoped you were to honour this court with your presence for a long time yet, and therefore did I delay setting this dish before you, for with what better dish could a cook serve you, as a parting greeting, than with that of a Souzeraine pasty?”

“Oh! indeed,” said the Duke smiling, “so I suppose you were waiting for me to leave the world for ever before giving me the parting greeting, for I have never so much as heard of this pasty, much less tasted it. But we will wait for it no longer; to-morrow morning we shall expect you to serve it up to us for breakfast.”

“As my lord wills,” answered the dwarf, and bowing low he left their presence. He was terribly upset, for he had not the least idea how to make the pasty. He went to his room and there wept and bemoaned his sad fate.

But the goose Mimi came to him and, after enquiring the cause of his sorrow, said: “Dry your tears, for I think I can help you in this matter. This dish was frequently set upon my father’s table and I know pretty well how it was concocted. Even if I cannot tell you every single ingredient, you will no doubt flavour the pie so deliciously that the Prince will not detect any omission.”

She then proceeded to name to the dwarf the various ingredients required.

He was ready to jump for joy, and blessed the day upon which he had purchased the goose, and then set to work to make the pasty.

He made a little trial one to begin with and it tasted delicious. He gave the head cook a piece to taste and he could not say enough in praise of it.

The following morning he made a large one and sent it to table decorated with wreaths of flowers. He dressed himself in his state robes and entered the dining hall just as the carver had served the Duke and his guest with slices of the pasty.

The Duke took a large mouthful and then cast his eyes up towards the ceiling. “Ah!” said he, as soon as he could speak, “this has been truly called the queen of pasties, and as for my cook, he is the king of cooks. What say you, dear friend?”

The guest took one or two mouthfuls before answering, and then, having well tasted the flavour, he said rather scornfully as he pushed away his plate: “It is as I thought! It is an excellent pasty no doubt, but not the Souzeraine.”

The Duke frowned and reddened with anger--“Dog of a dwarf,” cried he, “how dare you treat me so? I have a good mind to have your head chopped off as a punishment for your bad cookery.”

“My lord, I assure you I have made the pasty according to all the rules of the art of cookery,” replied the dwarf trembling.

“It is false, you rascal,” replied the Duke, kicking him away. “If it were right my guest would not say it was wrong. I have a good mind to have you made into mincemeat and baked in a pie yourself.”

“Have mercy,” cried the poor little man, prostrating himself before the royal guest and clasping his feet in his arms. “I pray you tell me what I have left out of the pasty that it fails to suit your palate? Do not condemn me to death for a handful of meat and flour.”

“It will be of little assistance to you to know, my dear Long-Nose,” answered the Prince with a smile, “I was quite certain yesterday that you would not be able to make this pasty as well as my cook can, because the chief requisite is a herb which does not grow in this country. It is known as ‘The Cook’s Delight,’ and without this the pasty is practically tasteless, and your master will never eat it with the same pleasure that I can in my own country.”

Then the Duke flew into the most terrible rage--“I vow by my honour that either you shall taste this pasty to-morrow morning, exactly as you are accustomed to have it, or else the head of this fellow shall pay for his blunder. Go, dog of a dwarf, I give you four-and-twenty hours to accomplish it in.”

The poor dwarf went to his room and told this fresh trouble to the goose.

“Come, take heart,” said she, “fortunately I know every herb that grows and I am sure I can find this one for you. It is a happy thing that it chances to be a new moon to-night, for only at the time of the new moon does this plant grow. But tell me, are there any ancient chestnut trees near the palace?”

“Oh! yes,” replied the dwarf, with a lighter heart. “Two hundred paces from the palace, beside the lake, there is quite a large group of chestnut trees; but why do you ask?”

“Because the herb is only found at the root of very old chestnut trees,” answered Mimi. “Let us lose no time, but go and search for what you require. Take me under your arm and put me down when we have reached the spot, and I will help you search.”

He did as she bade him; but as he would have passed out of the gateway of the palace, the sentry barred the way with his lance. “My good Long-Nose,” said he, “I have the strictest orders not to let you out of the house. Your end has come, I fear.”

“But surely I can go into the garden,” replied the dwarf. “Be so good as to send one of your comrades to enquire if I may go into the garden to search for herbs.”

The sentry did so and permission was given, for the garden had such high walls surrounding it that it seemed impossible for him to escape.

As soon as he was in the open he placed Mimi carefully on the ground and she at once began to run towards the lake on the banks of which the chestnut trees grew. Long-Nose followed her with a sinking heart, for he had already made up his mind that, if the herb could not be found, he would drown himself in the lake rather than allow his head to be cut off.

The goose sought in vain for the herb, she left not a blade of grass unturned, and at length she began to cry from sympathy. She would not give up the search until evening began to fall, and the darkness made it difficult to distinguish any surrounding objects. Just as they were about to abandon the search the dwarf looked across the lake and then cried out: “Look, at the other side of the lake is a huge old chestnut tree. Let us go and search there, perhaps good fortune blooms yonder.”

The goose waddled and flew and waddled and flew, the dwarf hurrying after her as fast as his little legs would let him, until at length they had reached the other side of the lake. The chestnut tree cast a vast shade and it was so dark all around that it was difficult to distinguish anything, but suddenly the goose gave a cry of joy and flapped her wings with delight.

She thrust her head into the long grass and plucked something which she deftly offered in her bill to Long-Nose. “This is the herb,” said she, “and it grows here in such quantities you will always have a plentiful supply.”

The dwarf looked at the herb thoughtfully. A sweet scent assailed his nostrils and reminded him of the scene of his transformation; the stalk, too, of the plant was of a bluish-green colour and it bore a bright red flower, flecked with yellow.

“Mimi,” said he, “by great good fortune I do believe we have chanced upon the very herb that changed me from a squirrel into the creature I am now. Shall I make a trial of it?”

“Not yet,” replied the goose. “Take a handful of the herbs with you and let us go back to your room. There you can collect your money and all that you possess and then we will try the power of the herb.”

They returned to the dwarf’s room, he with a heart beating loudly with excitement. He took between fifty and sixty ducats he had saved, and tied them up in a bundle with some of his clothes, then saying: “May good fortune aid me to be rid of my burden,” he thrust his nose into the bunch of herbs and sniffed their fragrance. Then his limbs and joints began to crack and stretch, he could feel his head rising from between his shoulders, squinting down his nose he could see it growing smaller and smaller, his back and chest straightened themselves out, and his legs became longer.

The goose looked on in astonishment. “Oh! how tall and handsome you are,” she cried, “there is not the faintest resemblance left to the dwarf Long-Nose.”

As for Jacob, he was beside himself with joy; but he did not forget the thanks he owed to Mimi. His first impulse was to go to his parents, but gratitude urged him to suppress this wish.

“But for you,” he said to Mimi, “I might have retained my hideous form all the days of my life, or I might even have lost my life. Now is the time to repay my debt. I will take you straightway to your father, whose magic powers will at once enable him to disenchant you.” The goose wept tears of joy and accepted his offer gratefully.

Jacob passed the sentries safely, for they had only been ordered to bar the way to the dwarf Long-Nose.

With Mimi beneath his arm he very soon reached the sea-shore, and before long her home was in sight.

The great Wetterbock soon turned the goose into a charming young lady, and, having loaded her rescuer with valuable gifts, bade him farewell.

Jacob hastened home, and his parents were only too delighted to accept the handsome young man as their long-lost son.

With the presents he had received from Wetterbock he was able to purchase a shop, and he became a very rich man and lived happily all his days.

But his disappearance from the Duke’s palace caused a great hubbub. When the morning came on which the Duke was to fulfil his vow and behead the dwarf if he had not found the herb, lo! the dwarf himself was missing.

The Prince declared the Duke had allowed him to escape to avoid losing such a splendid cook, and said he had broken his word.

They quarrelled so violently that a war ensued, which is known in all histories of those lands as “The Herb War,” and when at length peace was declared it was called “The Pasty Peace,” and at the reconciliation feast the Prince’s cook served up a Souzeraine pasty, to which the Duke did full justice.

ABNER, THE JEW WHO SAW NOTHING.

This is the story of Abner, the Jew, who by reason of his great powers of observation, instead of benefiting himself by his sagacity, brought himself into dire straits and well-nigh lost his life.

It is well known that all Jews are observant and crafty; Abner was no exception to the rule.

He was strolling one evening beyond the gateway of Morocco, glancing from right to left in case by chance he could see anything likely to be used to his advantage. He was feeling particularly well pleased with himself, for he had done a very good day’s business. He had managed to sell a sick slave for a good sum of money, knowing he would prove of little value to the purchaser, and he had bought a camel-load of gum and spices for a very low price, and expected to make a large profit, so he smiled and stroked his beard and paced up and down in a very happy frame of mind.

Presently he heard the sound of people running and shouting and a number of the Emperor’s grooms, with the Master of the Horse at their head, came along. They ran here and there in wild disorder, evidently searching eagerly for something or someone who was lost.

“Hullo, you dog of a Jew,” cried the Master of the Horse, “have you seen anything of the Emperor’s horse, a fine creature ready saddled and bridled? He has run away and is lost.”

“Ah,” answered Abner thoughtfully, “he was one of the swiftest horses you could meet, with a small, delicately-shaped hoof, silver shoes, his mane shone like gold, fifteen hands high, a tail three feet and a half in length, and his bridle bit is of pure gold.”

“Yes, yes,” cried the Master of the Horse, “you have described him exactly; tell me where we can find the Emperor’s horse.”

“But I have seen no horse,” replied Abner, smiling craftily, “how therefore can I tell you where he is?”

The Master of the Horse was about to insist upon Abner explaining this apparent contradiction, when by a strange coincidence another event occurred which prevented him.

A troop of black slaves came running towards them, crying aloud, “Hath any one seen the Empress’ lap-dog? Aline, Aline, where art thou?”

“Is it not a small spaniel with a long coat, a feathery tail, and lame in the right foreleg?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the slaves, “of a certainty thou hast described the dog. The Empress is in a swoon on account of the loss of her favourite and will certainly not recover until Aline is restored to her; tell us, therefore, where thou hast seen the dog!”

“I have seen no dog,” replied Abner, “neither was I so much as aware that our Empress possessed one.”

Then both the stable men and the slaves of the harem fell to abusing Abner, the shameless Jew, who did not scruple to make game of his Emperor and Empress. They seized him and dragged him before the Emperor and recounted all that had happened, suggesting that most certainly the Jew had seen and stolen the animals in question.

The Jew continued to protest his innocence, but all in vain; by way of a beginning he was ordered and received fifty strokes with the bastinado upon the soles of his feet, and after that he was assured that if the horse and the little dog were not recovered he would pay for their loss with his life.

The palace was still in a high state of commotion, when a black slave came running in, breathless and exhausted, but bearing the good news that both horse and dog had been found.

The horse, fed on the best corn and oats in the Emperor’s stable, had yet preferred his freedom and a bite of grass in a green meadow, where he had been found quietly grazing.

As for the little dog, he had been found in the company of a number of mongrels whose society was quite unfit for such an aristocratic little animal as an Empress’ pet.

The Emperor now demanded an explanation from Abner as to how he had been able to describe two animals he had never seen.

The Jew bowed low before the Emperor and made answer: “I was taking a walk in the cool of the evening in a little wood, where the soil was sandy and loose; presently I noticed the prints of small paws, the right fore-paw print making a slighter impression in the sand than the others, therefore I knew the little animal was lame. One each side of the fore-paw prints there was a slight trail in the sand which proved the animal’s ears had been long and sweeping the ground, and it was impossible to avoid knowing that the tail was long and feathery, for, in an access of joy, probably at the freedom he was enjoying, he had wagged his tail to and fro, and brushed the sand aside. Therefore I knew to a nicety the kind of dog that had passed that way.

“As far as the horse is concerned, as I was walking upon another path in the wood I noticed the tracks of a horse’s hoofs. I examined them and found them small and delicate, such as only a highly-bred horse’s hoofs would be; from the distance apart I judged that the horse had been galloping at a great rate, and I noticed a stone against which he had evidently struck one hoof and left a small silver shaving, therefore I knew he was shod with silver shoes. The path down which I was walking was seven feet wide and the palms on each side had had the dust brushed from their leaves. ‘Ah!’ said I, ‘the horse swished his tail to and fro and swept the palms with it on each side of him, therefore the tail must have been at least three and a half feet in length.’ The branches of the trees beneath which I was walking were some five feet from the ground and I saw that leaves had freshly fallen from them, no doubt brushed off by the horse in his flight, therefore I guessed him to be fifteen hands high. On the bushes I saw traces of golden-brown horse hair, caught here and there, and I knew then the colour of the horse that had passed that way.

“As I left the cover of the bushes I noticed a tiny mark of gold on a rock, and guessed that the runaway had had a golden bit between its teeth, which it had rubbed against the stone as it bounded past.”

“Now, by the beard of the Prophet,” cried the delighted Emperor, “that is what I call good eyesight, and no mistake. I only wish my master of the Hounds and the Chief of the Police had such eyes for a trail. Now, Master Jew, it is but fair we should reward you on account of what you have innocently suffered, and for the sake of the sagacity you have shown. As you should have paid me a hundred sequins, you shall be pardoned fifty on account of the fifty strokes you received. Now open your purse and pay me the other fifty, but remember to beware in future of how you make a laughing stock of your Emperor: if you wish to ridicule anyone, the pain in your feet may serve to remind you it would be best to make a butt of one of lesser degree!”

THE STORY OF ALMANSOR.

There was once a Sheik of Alexandria named Ali Banu. Although he was good and generous, rich and clever, he was a very unhappy man, for he had the misfortune to lose his only son when he was but ten years of age, and the joy of his father’s heart.

It was at the time when the Franks overran the country like a pack of hungry wolves. They had conquered Alexandria and had pushed their way further and further, and attacked the Mamelukes.

The Sheik was a wise man and tried therefore to keep the peace with them, but they grudged him his wealth and so made an excuse to quarrel with him. They pretended that he had been supplying the Mamelukes secretly with weapons, horses, and stores, and so they seized his young son Kairam and carried him away to their camp as a hostage.

The Sheik offered ransom money, but the Franks would not part with the boy, because they believed that if they kept him long enough the father would be glad to pay even the most extortionate price for his release.

But suddenly they were recalled to their own land, and as they had not time to bargain with the Sheik before embarking, they carried the boy Kairam with them.

The boy’s mother died of a broken heart and the poor old man never ceased to grieve for his son. Every year, upon the anniversary of the day his son was captured, he made a rule of setting at liberty twelve slaves. In order to divert his mind from his sorrow, the twelve who were about to be liberated each had to recount to him a story, and when this had been done they were released.

Upon one of these anniversaries some ten or eleven years after Kairam’s abduction, the Sheik took his seat on the floor, for his mourning for his son forbade him to sit upon the carpet of joy, his friends and acquaintance, who had come to comfort him, sat near him, and close beside him was Mustapha, the Dervish, who was his closest friend and had been his son’s instructor.

The slaves who were about to be released were gathered before him; some were old and some young, but the one who called for the most attention was a tall and very handsome young man, whom the Sheik had purchased for a large sum of money, only a few days previously, of a slave trader from Tunis.

When several of the slaves had told their stories and it came to this young man’s turn, he arose, bowed to the Sheik, and said in a clear voice:

“My Lord, the stories that have already been told are so much more interesting than any I could tell relating to myself, that with your permission I will recount to you the adventures of one of my friends.

“Upon the slave ship which brought me from Algeria there was a young man of about my own age who seemed to have been born to a better position than that in which I found him.

“The rest of the unfortunate beings upon the ship were either of a low class, so that I did not care to mix with them, or else spoke a language I did not understand, and so, whenever I had any spare time, I spent it with this young man. His name was Almansor, and, by the manner in which he spoke, I judged him to be an Egyptian.

“We took great pleasure in each other’s society, and one day we told each other our stories, and his seemed certainly more interesting than mine.

“Almansor’s father held a distinguished position in an Egyptian town. He spent the days of his childhood surrounded by every comfort, although he was not spoilt or allowed to become effeminate, for his father was a wise man and trained him to be good and virtuous, and gave him for his instructor a very learned man who taught him all that a youth should know. Almansor was about ten years of age when the Franks came from over the sea and made war upon his nation.

“The boy’s father evidently incurred the displeasure of the Franks, for one day they came and demanded his wife as a hostage and a guarantee of his good intentions towards them, and upon his refusing to give her up they tore his son from him by force, and carried him away to their camp.”

As the young slave recounted this, the Sheik hid his face in his hands and a murmur of displeasure arose in the apartment.

“How could this young man be so foolish as to tell such a story?” the Sheik’s friends asked one another. “How can he be so cruel as to open Ali Banu’s wounds afresh instead of attempting to heal them? How can he renew his grief instead of trying to allay it?”

The overseer of the slaves was full of anger over the young man’s effrontery, and bade him roughly hold his peace, but the slave only showed surprise, and asked the Sheik in what way his story had displeased him. So the Sheik raised his head from his hands and said: “Calm yourselves, my friends. This young man has been but three days beneath my roof and quite possibly does not know of my sorrowful history. It is possible, considering the cruelties the Franks perpetrate, there may be another story similar to mine, or even this Almansor might be--” The Sheik did not finish his sentence, but bade the slave continue his story.

“The young Almansor,” said he, “was, as I said, carried away to the camp of the Franks, where he did not fare so badly, for one of the generals took a fancy to him, and was amused at the boy’s answers to his questions, which were interpreted to him by a dragoman. He saw that he was well cared for and had all the food required, but that did not compensate the boy for the loss of his father and mother.

“He wept bitterly, but his tears did not melt the hard hearts of his captors. When the camp was broken up Almansor hoped he would be sent home, but no, the army moved on and on in pursuit of the Mamelukes, and young Almansor was carried in its train.

“In vain he begged and implored the officers to send him back to his father; they told him he was the only security they had for his father’s good faith.

“But all of a sudden a great commotion took place, all the soldiers began packing in great haste, and Almansor heard that the army had been recalled. He felt certain that if the Franks returned to their own country he would be restored to his home, and was happy in the thought of so soon seeing his parents again. The retreat towards the sea-shore was a hurried one, and Almansor very soon saw the great ships lying at anchor. The soldiers began to embark at once, but by nightfall only a small number were on board. Almansor tried hard to remain awake, for he believed he was to be set free immediately, but in spite of his efforts he fell into a deep sleep. Afterwards he felt sure that the Franks must have drugged him, for he slept so soundly that when he awoke it was broad daylight, and he found himself in quite a different room to the one in which he had gone to sleep.

“He sprang from his couch, but no sooner touched the floor than he fell down, for the floor seemed to sway up and down, and everything in the room went round and round. He rose and steadied himself by the wall, so that he might be able to get out of the room.

“A most extraordinary splashing and roaring noise was all around him, and he scarcely knew whether he was awake or dreaming, for he had never heard anything like it before. He managed to reach a little staircase and climbed it. What was his horror to see around him nothing but sea and sky, and he discovered that he was on a ship. He wept bitterly and begged to be taken back. He tried to fling himself into the sea in order that he might swim ashore. But the Franks held him fast, and one of the officers ordered him to be brought to him and promised him that, if he were good and obedient, he should be sent home, but told him it had not been possible for them to spare time to take him to his father, and had they left him behind by himself he would have perished miserably.

“But the Franks did not keep their promise, for after many days, when the ship at length reached the shore, it was not in Egypt they landed, but on the coast of France, which was the name of the country they came from. During the voyage and whilst he had been in the camp, Almansor had learnt a good deal of the Frankish language, and he found this very useful, now that he was in a country where no one understood a word of his language.

“For many days he marched with the army into the interior of the country, and crowds came flocking to see him, for his companions gave out that he was the King of Egypt’s son, who had been sent to France to be educated. This they said in order that the people might believe that they had conquered Egypt and made peace with that country.

“At length they reached a very large town, which was the end of the journey. He was handed over to a doctor, who took him into his house and instructed him in the manners and customs of the country.

“First of all he was made to put on different clothing, which felt tight and uncomfortable, and was not nearly so nice to look at as his Egyptian clothes. He was no longer allowed to bow, with his arms crossed upon his breast, when he wished to show his respect to any one. Instead he was taught to raise his large black felt hat with one hand, and make a slight obeisance. He was not allowed to sit cross-legged upon a cushion, as is the pleasant custom in the East, but was made to sit upon a high-legged chair and let his legs hang down. The mode of eating, too, was most trying, for everything he put into his mouth had to be conveyed there by means of a steel fork.

“The doctor was a stern and cruel man who gave the boy no peace. If he forgot and said to a visitor: ‘Salem aleicum,’ he had a good beating, for he had been taught to say: ‘Votre serviteur.’ He was not allowed to speak or write in his own language, and he might even have forgotten his native tongue had it not been for a man who lived in that town, and who was very kind to him.

“This man was very learned and understood a great many Eastern languages, Arabic, Persian, Coptic, and even Chinese, and made a great deal of money by teaching them to other people. He invited Almansor to visit him several times a week, gave him fruit and cakes, and made him feel very much at home. He was a most extraordinary old man, for he ordered clothes for Almansor such as high-class people in Egypt wear, and kept them in a certain room in his house. When Almansor came to visit him he was sent to this room, with a servant, who helped him to dress himself in these garments, and then he was taken into what was called ‘The Arabian Hall.’

“This hall was decorated with palms, cedars and all sorts of flowers that grow in Eastern countries. Persian carpets were laid on the floors, and cushions were placed against the walls, but there was no sign of a chair or table. The old professor was seated upon one of the cushions, but he was dressed quite differently to his usual attire. He wore a Turkish turban on his head, a false grey beard that reached to his waist. On his legs he had wide Turkish trousers, and besides this he had a robe made from a brocaded dressing gown, and yellow slippers.

“Although he was of a very peaceable nature, he wore a Turkish sabre, and had a dagger, set with imitation jewels, thrust into his girdle. He smoked a pipe with a stem at least four feet in length, and was waited upon by servants clad in Eastern attire, with hands and faces coloured dark brown.

“At first Almansor only thought how very curious it all was, but after a while he began to think of what great advantage to him the hours spent with the old man might be. At the doctor’s he was forced to converse in the French tongue, but at the old man’s house he was encouraged to speak the Egyptian language. On entering he was expected to give the Eastern greeting, to which the old man solemnly responded; then he was told to sit down, and the host conversed with his guest in a mixture of Persian, Arabic and Coptic. He had a servant beside him, who on these occasions was called a slave, and this slave held an enormous dictionary, and whenever the old man was at a loss for a word, he beckoned to the slave to turn over the leaves of the book until he came to the word he wanted, and then he went on talking again.

“The pretended slaves served sherbet and such-like drinks in Turkish drinking-vessels, and if Almansor wanted to please the old man very much he used to tell him that everything looked as it did in his own home in the East. Almansor could read Persian very well, and this was of great use to the old man, for he made the boy read aloud from Persian manuscripts, and repeated the words carefully after him, and so learnt the correct pronunciation.

“These were happy days for poor Almansor, for the professor never sent him away empty-handed, but gave him sometimes money, and sometimes underwear, and other useful things with which the doctor would not provide him. And so he lived for some years in the capital of France, without his longing for home ever growing less. When he was about fifteen years of age something happened which had a great influence upon his fortunes. The Franks, or the French as he was taught to call them, chose for their Emperor the general who had once made a pet of Almansor in Egypt.

“Although Almansor knew that one of the generals had been proclaimed Emperor, he did not know it was the one he had so frequently spoken to before he left his native land.

“One day, when he was crossing one of the bridges which span the wide river flowing through the city, he saw a man, dressed in simple uniform, leaning against the parapet, gazing down into the water.

“The man’s features seemed familiar to him and, quickly reviewing the past, he remembered where he had last seen him. He was the French general who had been so kind to him in Egypt. He did not know his right name, only the nickname by which the soldiers spoke of him, but, taking courage, he advanced towards him, crossed his arms upon his breast, and said ‘Salem aleicum, Little Corporal.’

“The man turned in astonishment, stared hard at the youth for a few moments, and then said: ‘Is it possible, _you_ here, Almansor? How is your father, and how are things going on in Egypt? How do you come to be in France?’

“Almansor could not restrain his tears. Weeping bitterly, he made answer: ‘Then you did not know that your dogs of countrymen had brought me here? Alas! Little Corporal, it is many a long year since I saw my native land.’

“‘I trust,’ said the man, with an angry frown, ‘that they did not bring you away from Egypt.’

“‘Indeed they did,’ replied Almansor; ‘an officer, moved by compassion for me, paid for my board and keep at the house of a doctor, who beats and ill-treats me, and almost starves me to death. But oh! how glad I am I have met you, for now I know that you will help me.’

“‘How can I help you?’ asked the man smiling.

“‘Well,’ replied Almansor, ‘you may be sure that I am not going to ask you for money, for I am sure you have little to spare. I remember that, although you were a general, when you were so kind to me, you were poor, and were never able to afford such fine clothes as the others, and I can see by your shabby hat and coat that you are not much better off now, but, as you know, your people have lately chosen a new Emperor, and as he was one of your generals it may chance that at least you know someone who is acquainted with him.’

“‘And if I do, what then?’ replied the man.

“‘I want you to say a good word for me, Little Corporal, and get the Emperor to grant me my liberty. It would not cost very much money to send me home across the sea; but whatever you do, you must promise to keep this a secret from the doctor and the Arabian professor.’

“‘Who may the Arabian professor be?’ the soldier asked.

“‘A most extraordinary man, but I will tell you of him some other time.’ replied Almansor. ‘But if these two were to hear of it they would most certainly prevent my leaving France. And will you promise then to find some one to speak for me to the Emperor?’

“‘Come with me and I may perhaps be able to help you now,’ said his friend.

“‘Now?’ cried the youth, ‘that I cannot do, for I shall get a good beating from the doctor if I do not hurry home.’

“‘What have you in that basket?’ asked the man, laying his hand upon Almansor’s shoulder.

“The boy blushed with shame and hesitated, but said finally: ‘Little Corporal, it is not here with me as it was in my own home. I am forced now to perform the duties assigned to the lowest of my father’s slaves. The doctor is a miserly man, and every day he sends me to a market which is at some distance from our house, because I can get things cheaper there than they are in our part of the town. Look at these few herrings, this handful of salad, and this little pat of butter: every day I have to tramp miles in order to buy such things. Oh! if only my father knew it.’

“The soldier appeared moved by the boy’s distress--‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘and I promise you the doctor shall not punish you, even if he has to go without herrings or salad. So take courage and come.’

“He took Almansor by the hand and led him along with him, and although the boy’s heart beat loudly when he thought of the doctor, yet he could not but feel great confidence in the man beside him and so he decided to do as he advised. So he trotted along, his basket on his arm, sorely perplexed, however to notice how everyone raised their hats to them, and stood staring after them. He asked his companion what it meant, but he only laughed and gave no answer.

“At length they reached a splendid palace, which the man entered: ‘Do you live here, Little Corporal?’ asked Almansor.

“‘This is my dwelling-place, certainly,’ replied the soldier, ‘and I am going to introduce you to my wife.’

“‘Ah! but you have a splendid home,’ replied Almansor. ‘I suppose the Emperor gives you your quarters free?’

“‘It is true I owe these quarters to the Emperor,’ answered his companion. They mounted a wide staircase and reached a magnificent anteroom, where he was told to put down his basket, and then they went into a most beautiful apartment, where a lady was sitting upon a sofa. The soldier spoke to her in a language the boy did not understand, and they both laughed a good deal, and then the lady asked him, in the French tongue, a number of questions about Egypt, and then the Little Corporal said: ‘I have come to the conclusion that the best thing we can do is to take you straight to the Emperor, and for you to tell him your story.’

“Almansor was frightened to face such a great man; but he thought of his home and the misery he now endured and took courage. ‘I will go,’ he said bravely, ‘but tell me, Little Corporal, must I prostrate myself before him, shall I place my forehead to the ground? Tell me how I ought to behave.’

“The soldier and his wife laughed heartily and assured him this was not necessary.

“‘Has he a very fierce and majestic appearance?’ he asked again, ‘has he a long beard? Will his eyes flash fire? Tell me how I shall recognise him.’

“‘I would rather not describe him to you, Almansor,’ answered his companion, ‘but I will tell you how you may recognise the Emperor. All who are in the room will take off their hats respectfully, the Emperor alone will remain covered.’

“He led Almansor towards the Emperor’s reception room and the boy began to tremble all over as they approached the door.

“A servant opened it and they were in the presence of some thirty men, all of whom had ranged themselves in a semi-circle. They wore magnificent uniforms, and gold lace and glittering orders sparkled upon their breasts. Almansor thought his plainly-dressed companion must be lower in rank than anyone present. They all stood bare-headed and Almansor began to search for one who wore a hat. In vain, it seemed to him that the Emperor could not be present, for all carried their hats in their hands. Then his glance fell upon his companion, and lo! he was wearing his hat.

“The boy was astounded and put up his hand to his own head to remove the hat he had forgotten until then: ‘Salem aleicum, Little Corporal,’ he said. ‘I know that I am not Emperor of France, so it is not becoming for me to remain covered. But now you are the only person wearing a hat, can it be that _you_ are the Emperor?’

“‘You have guessed it at length,’ he replied, ‘and besides being the Emperor, I am your friend. You must not blame me for your misfortunes, but rather put them down to a succession of unfortunate circumstances, and rest assured I will send you home in the first ship that is sailing to your country. Now run away to my wife and tell her about the Arabian professor or anything else you like. I will send the herrings and the salad to the doctor, but you will remain in the palace as my guest.’

“Thus spoke the man who was the Emperor. Almansor fell upon his knees and kissed his hand, begging his forgiveness for not having recognised him, but assuring him that he did not in the least resemble an Emperor.

“‘You are right,’ replied the Emperor laughingly, ‘but you see I have only been an Emperor for a few days, so that I have not had time for imperial majesty to stamp itself upon my features.’ Then he nodded for the boy to go.

“From that time Almansor lived very happily. He was allowed to visit the Arabian professor, but he did not see the doctor again.

“After the lapse of a few weeks the Emperor sent for him and told him that a ship was about to sail for Egypt. He loaded him with presents and money, and sent him to the coast; but not before the boy had expressed his deep gratitude and affection to the one who had shown him so much kindness.

“But alas! Almansor’s troubles were not yet over, Allah would not yet permit him to see his native shore. The French nation was then at war with another Frankish people, the English. These English captured every French ship they could, and so it happened that on the sixth day the ship on which Almansor sailed was surrounded by a number of English ships, and was obliged to surrender. All the crew were transferred to another smaller vessel and, as ill luck would have it, this small vessel became detached from the rest of the fleet during a storm. Now there are robbers upon the high seas just as there are in the desert, and the small ship was seized by a pirate ship from Tunis, and all the crew were sent to Algiers and sold as slaves. Almansor was not so badly off as the Christians, because he was a Mussulman and a true Believer, but notwithstanding he began to abandon all hope of ever seeing his father’s house again. He had been purchased by a rich man, and for five years he lived with him, cultivating his garden and rearing his flowers. But suddenly the rich man died and left no near heirs, so that his property was divided up, his slaves were shared out, and Almansor fell into the hands of a slave-dealer who was just fitting out a ship to carry his slaves to another port, in order to sell them for a better price. I chanced to be one of this dealers slaves and was taken upon the same ship with Almansor. We soon made friends and he told me his wonderful adventures. But, when we landed, I was a witness of Allah’s goodness and merciful guidance, for it was upon Almansor’s native shore that we disembarked, and it was in the market place of his native town that we were publicly sold, and oh! my Lord, it was his own dear father who bought him.”

The Sheik Ali Banu had listened thoughtfully to the slave’s story, but the conclusion did not quite seem to satisfy him.

“The young man would be about one-and-twenty, you say?” he enquired.

“Yes, my Lord, my own age,” answered the slave.

“And what do you say is the name of his native town?”

“If I was not mistaken it was Alexandria,” was the reply.

“Alexandria!” cried the Sheik. “Then it was my son. Did he ever call himself Kairam? Had he dark eyes and brown hair?”

“Yes, my lord,” said the slave, “and sometimes he called himself Kairam and _not_ Almansor.”

“But tell me,” said the old man, “are you sure his own father bought him, did he assure you it was so? Because if this is the case he cannot be my son.”

The slave answered: “I heard him thank Allah for having brought him back to his own city, and when an aged and distinguished-looking man approached him and bought him he whispered to me: ‘My misfortunes are at an end, for it is my own father who has bought me.’”

“Alas! it was _not_ my son,” cried the Sheik in tones of deep grief.

Then the young man could contain himself no longer. Tears of joy rushed to his eyes and he threw himself at the Sheik’s feet and cried: “But it was your son, Kairam, or Almansor, for it was you who purchased him.”

The Sheik stood speechless, staring at the youth’s handsome face. “Mustapha,” said he to the old Dervish, “my eyes are dimmed with a veil of tears so that I can see nothing. Tell me, does this youth indeed resemble my son Kairam?”

The aged Dervish approached and, laying his hand upon the young man’s forehead, said: “Kairam, what was the text I taught you the very day you were taken away to the Frankish camp?”

“My dear master,” said the youth, pressing his lips to the Dervish’s hand, “it was this: ‘He who loves Allah and has a good conscience, though he were in the desert of misery, is never alone, for he has two companions who walk beside him and comfort him.’”

Then the Dervish placed the young man in the Sheik’s arms. “Take him,” he said, “for so surely as you have mourned your son as lost, so surely is he found again.”

The Sheik was beside himself with joy, and all present joined in his delight for they loved him dearly and shared in his happiness as they had shared his grief.

Once more the house resounded with songs of joy and mirth, as it had been wont to do. Again the youth was pressed to tell his story with still more minute details, and all united to praise the Arabian professor and the Emperor and everyone who had shown kindness towards the young man.

The gathering did not break up until quite late at night, and before they left the Sheik presented each of his friends with some rich gift, that he might always have cause to remember the joyful day.

THE STORY OF THE FLORIN.

In Upper Suabia stands to this very day the ruins of a castle that was once the most stately in the whole neighbourhood, namely, that of Hohenzollern. It is built upon the summit of a steep hill, from the rugged heights of which the surrounding country can be viewed far and wide. But, further than the eye can travel, throughout the most remote parts of Germany, the race of Hohenzollern was ever known, feared and respected.

Hundreds of years ago there lived in this solitary stronghold one of the race who, it is true, was feared, but also distrusted by all, although it could not be actually said of him that he oppressed his subjects or lived at open enmity with his neighbours.

Few besides the inhabitants of the castle had ever heard him speak a civil word, for if he rode through the valley and chanced to meet anyone who raised his cap and said: “Good evening, Count, what fine weather we are having,” he would reply in surly tones, “Rubbish!” or “I know that already.”

But if anyone neglected his work, or if perchance the Count met a peasant driving his cart on a narrow road so that he could not pass quickly, then a perfect storm of fury burst from his lips. He did not ill-treat the object of his wrath, but he would rage and storm so wildly that folks had given him the nickname of “Stormy Weather Zollern.”

Stormy Weather had a wife who was the direct opposite of himself; for she was as mild and gentle as a May day, and her kind words and pleasant smile often went a good way towards healing the breach between her husband and the neighbours he offended. She was good to the poor and would climb down the steep hill-side, summer and winter alike, to go to the aid of anyone in distress. Sometimes she met the Count when she was thus employed, and he would glance at her and say: “Nonsense, nonsense, why don’t you mind your own business?”

Many a less loving wife would have ceased to love such a disagreeable, cross-grained fellow, but not so the Lady Hedwig. She would try to coax the Count into a better temper, or make excuses for him when there were really none to be made.

They had one son, a sweet little baby whom the Count professed to care very little about. He never saw him but once a week, and that was on a Sunday afternoon, when the nurse carried the baby in her arms. When he said “Father” for the first time, the Count gave the Nurse a florin; but he took no further notice of the child.