Chapter C: A. F (7)

He then took him to the desert, and commanded him to search. When Ibrahim was left alone he was much confused, and grieved, but Lockman’s threats made him obey. Walking about in the burning heat, he passed a high piece of rock, in the shade of which some grass was growing. He there beheld a pale, haggard man with sunken cheeks, sitting down, greatly exhausted. Being naturally compassionate, he quickly ran for a pitcher of water, which he had taken to the desert to quench his thirst while working, and which, to keep the water fresh, he had buried in the sand. This he brought, and put it to the lips of the fainting man. The poor man drank, was refreshed, folded his hands as he raised his eyes, and said: “Who art thou, angel from heaven, that assistest me in my extremity?”

Ibrahim knew the voice, and cried in amazement, “Hussain, is it you?”

Hussain stared at him, saying, as well as exhaustion permitted, “Ibrahim, are you here? How, have you come into this vale of tears to comfort your enemy?”

“By some evil fate I have fallen into the hands of mine enemy,” replied Ibrahim, “who has condemned me to seek gold and precious stones in this desert.” When he said these words, Hussain put out his hands for the sack which he had filled that day with much labour; but what was his terror on finding it half empty! “What is this?” he cried; “have you come even in the last moments of my life to rob me and expose me to frightful punishment?”

Ibrahim affirmed that he had taken nothing; he felt compassion for poor Hussain, and forgot his own trouble.

“You lie, infamous fellow,” cried Hussain; “your bag is full, you have filled it from mine.”

“I assure you,” replied Ibrahim, “that I have taken nothing, nor have I ever thought of grieving you, and, as a proof, I will exchange my bag for yours whenever you wish.” He then offered his own. “Stop here and rest yourself,” he continued. “I am not yet so tired as to be unable to try to fill a second bag before evening.” He left him, and with much pains collected the second half. Hussain did not know what to think of all this, and both went together to the cavern without speaking.

“Are your bags full:” cried the monster, who was sitting at the entrance as they arrived. “Empty them before me.” Ibrahim emptied his bag first; it was full of gold and precious stones. Hussain came with the one Ibrahim had given him--and it contained nothing but sand and pebbles. Lockman looked silently incensed at Hussain, took him by the arm, and led him, weak and fainting, again to the terrible rushing shower-bath, where, for want of strength, he would have fallen into the abyss, had not Lockman seized him and flung him half dead on the sand.

“He is a villain,” said he to Ibrahim, while the other lay fainting. “I will tell you plainly that he has slandered you to me, and is the sole cause of my receiving you so harshly. I hate him, for he is not even fit to do the work of a slave. If you will do me a service I will restore you to liberty, bring you to your son, and arrange every thing so that you may again live in Bagdad in your former happy circumstances.”

“What do you desire?” asked Ibrahim.

“I am a spirit, and cannot dispose arbitrarily of the life of a mortal. You, on the other hand, have power to destroy each other; take this knife and thrust it into Hussain’s heart, then I will restore you to your former happiness, and give you all the gold-dust and precious stones in my cavern.”

“Far be it from me,” said Ibrahim, “to act thus even to my bitterest enemy. May God forgive the evil we have done, and for which we are both now suffering. My hatred is extinguished. I have this day exchanged my bag for his, with the honest intention of lightening his burden. That it has turned out so badly is not my fault.”

“Kill him,” cried Lockman, threatening as he reached him the knife, “or I will throw you a hundred fathoms deep into the abyss, among serpents and adders!”

“Throw me,” cried Ibrahim, with firmness, clasping his hands, and raising his eyes to the stars.

“You have regained courage,” said Lockman, scoffing.

“Misfortune inspires that,” replied Ibrahim.

“Daring man,” cried Lockman, “you are not yet ripe, I will chastise you slowly.” So saying he left him.

“Poor Hussain!” sighed Ibrahim as he looked on the pale man. Hussain opened his eyes, gave a friendly smile, and extended his hand to him, saying,

“I heard what passed between you and the sorcerer; whose wicked design has ill succeeded. What was to separate us has united us. I now know you; can you forgive me?”

Ibrahim embracing him said, “Will you again be my friend?”

“For life and death,” said Hussain, returning the embrace of his former enemy. They knelt down, and Mahommed’s holy moon shone on their reconciliation, which was sealed by a kiss, as she cast her pale gleam over the desert, and the faint reflection from the sand was increased, as if rejoicing that from the desert of affliction a flower had sprung, which the Eden of a life of luxury could not produce.

Lockman returned, looked at the reconciled friends, and burst into a hideous laugh. “I suppose you now fancy yourselves happy, and that you have gained peace of mind,” he said; “do not think it. Hussain is lost for ever. Allah has turned his eyes from him for endeavouring to shorten the days of his child and his own. He is mine for ever!”

“None possesses that eternal power but Allah,” cried Hussain, who had now recovered. “Having saved my life, you have, against your will, assisted my salvation. As long as there is life there is hope; as long as man lives he may become better.”

“You have killed your daughter,” said Lockman; “you have spilled her blood, you are an infanticide!”

Hussain turned pale.

“She lives,” cried a sweet voice from on high, “take courage and hope.”

“Ah! is _she_ released from her sleep of death?” exclaimed Lockman in consternation, and vanished.

From this time Ibrahim and Hussain were faithful friends, they shared their troubles, and found consolation in each other’s society. It was no longer difficult to discover gold and precious stones in the desert; they had only to go out and search, and immediately found what they wished. During this time the sun was shaded, and a light breeze was blowing; they at last discovered recesses in the rocks for shade, flowers, and springs. When Lockman perceived this he took them into the mines, where he forced them to laborious employment. But even here their fortune attended them. They learned of themselves to cut the ore which they easily found. In this familiar intercourse with quiet, sublime nature, their hearts opened, their minds became elevated, and their bodies strengthened. They no longer loved wealth and vanity, but God, the wonderful works of nature, and each other. Lockman had no further power to molest them.

The only thing that still caused them exertion, and even bodily pain, was a torn apron of thick, hard leather, such as miners wear, which Lockman had given them to sew together. The needle often broke under their bleeding fingers while sewing it. They shared their task freely, each taking it when the other was tired. One evening, when it was still far from being finished, Lockman ordered them, with violent threats, to remain up all night to complete it by the next morning. They exerted all their strength to accomplish this task, though they hardly thought it possible, when Hussain, who was sewing, towards morning, while Ibrahim was sleeping, unluckily thrust the awl so deep into his hand that he screamed with pain, and in despair threw the hard leather on the ground. Ibrahim awaking at this, sought his turban to bind Hussain’s wound. Whilst looking at it he perceived that it was his son’s, which he had mistaken for his own the last night they spent together. As he now took off the cloth, the singular talisman which Ali had concealed met his view. He looked long at it, and discovering the many precious stones, said: “Our tyrant has a fancy for rare and precious stones, and these are finer than I have ever seen, I will, therefore, place this splendid jewel on his bed; he will rejoice on awaking, and his stern mind will relent, perhaps, even though he may not find the apron repaired.” With this intention he went into the cavern where Lockman slept, and placed the talisman on the bare chest of the sorcerer. He then hastened back, bound his friend’s wound, and continued sewing as long as he was able.

The sun was now high, but Lockman still slept, contrary to his custom. Hussain crept in and found him in a profound slumber. Both friends thanked Providence, which saved them from ill-treatment, and Ibrahim said: “Perhaps he may sleep the whole day, and we shall gain time to finish our task.”

They now vied with each other, one sewing while the other rested or fetched water and bread for refreshment, but the night came, and still their work was unfinished. Thus they went on for three days and four nights, their hands bleeding and swollen, their eyes dim with working, but their courage unabated. Their mutual feelings of friendship and sympathy and their honest exertion enabled them to accomplish their work. A secret presentiment told them it was for the happiness of their future life that they had to restore the hard, rigid, and torn apron.

When the fourth morning dawned, they put in the last stitch, and with tears of joy, then embraced each other, exclaiming in rapture, while they extended their hands towards heaven in gratitude: “It is finished!” “It is finished!” they heard an harmonious voice repeating. They raised their eyes, and behold, the damp, dark cavern where they stood, was changed into a beautiful bright grotto. Before them stood the lovely Peribanu, with her crown of stars and her emerald sceptre, saying, with a friendly smile, “It is finished! Look what you have joined again!” Hussain and Ibrahim looked at the apron they still held, and behold! it was the splendid gold cloth which Ibrahim once in anger had torn in the market-place, and with it Hussain’s friendship.

“It had suffered great damage,” said Peribanu, “and it has cost you labour and trouble to sew it together again; but it is restored. The threads of early friendship are again united, the flowers of childhood, which were torn up by the roots, are again planted in the golden ground of your life.”

Ibrahim recognised in her beautiful features the kindly woman who had once come to him in the hour of midnight, to beg the gold cloth as a bridal dress for her daughter. “You must really give it me for a bridal dress for my daughter,” said Peribanu, “this very day I shall celebrate her nuptials.” Ibrahim gave it her. Peribanu waved her sceptre, a curtain was raised, and Ibrahim and Hussain saw their children crowned with flowers, kneeling at an altar before the sacred image of the Moon.

“The beaming symbol of the prophet perpetually changes,” said Peribanu, “bringing joy and sorrow according to the law of eternal fate. On you it has now bestowed happiness. The life of Ali and Gulhyndi will be like a fine spring morning, and the old age of Ibrahim and Hussain a glorious September day.”

When she had said this, she conducted the bridal pair to their parents, who embraced them with delight, and gave them the paternal blessing. “Your joy will no more be troubled by the snares of malice,” she said, “for it is caught in its own trap.” She again waved her sceptre, the rock burst, and they saw the young king with a crown of rubies on his head, in a purple mantle, stretched out, pale as death, on a couch, while the lamp of death was burning over his head. The expression of cunning and malice was in his countenance even in his death-slumber. “Sleep on for ever,” cried the fairy. “Levity will some day again release me,” he said in a hollow voice, and the vault closed. “For this cycle, at least, nothing is to be feared,” replied Peribanu.

Hereupon the good fairy celebrated the nuptials of the young couple, and beautiful Nature, with all her creatures, shared the festival. They lived long and happily in the bosom of nature, like our first parents in the beginning of creation, and gave to posterity lovely children, who became the ancestors of a powerful race in the mountains. Hussain and Ibrahim died at a great age, and their grandchildren mourned over them. The good fairy never left Ali and Gulhyndi.