Chapter X: Conclusion: Of the Story of the Treasures of Basra (1)

When Aboulcassem had finished the recital of his adventures, the caliph, animated with a violent desire to see the treasure, said to him, "Is it possible that there is in the world a treasure that your generosity can never exhaust? No! I cannot believe it, and if it was not exacting too much from you, my lord, I would ask to see what you possess, and I swear never to reveal what you may confide to me." The son of Abdelaziz appeared grieved at this speech of the caliph's. "I am sorry, my lord," he said, "that you have conceived this curiosity; I cannot satisfy it but upon very disagreeable conditions."

"Never mind," said the prince, "whatever the conditions, I submit without repugnance."

"It is necessary," said Aboulcassem, "that I blindfold your eyes, and conduct you unarmed and bareheaded, with my drawn scimitar in my hand, ready to cut you to pieces at any moment, if you violate the laws of hospitality. I know very well I am acting imprudently, and ought not to yield to your wishes; but I rely on your promised secrecy, and besides that, I cannot bear to send away a guest dissatisfied."

"In pity then satisfy my curiosity," said the caliph.

"That cannot be just yet," replied the young man, "but remain here this night, and when my domestics are gone to rest I will come and conduct you from your apartment."

He then called his people, and by the light of a number of wax tapers, carried by slaves in gold flambeaux, he led the prince to a magnificent chamber, and then retired to his own. The slaves disrobed the caliph, and left him to repose, after placing at the head and foot of his bed their lighted tapers, whose perfumed wax emitted an agreeable odour. Instead of taking any rest, Haroun-al-Raschid impatiently awaited the appearance of Aboulcassem, who did not fail to come for him towards the middle of the night. "My lord," he said, "all my servants are asleep. A profound silence reigns in my house. I will now show you my treasure upon the conditions I named to you."

"Let us go then," said the caliph. "I am ready to follow you, and I again swear that you will not repent thus satisfying my curiosity."

The son of Abdelaziz aided the prince to dress; then putting a bandage over his eyes, he said, "I am sorry, my lord, to be obliged to treat you thus; your appearance and your manners seem worthy of confidence, but--"

"I approve of these precautions," interrupted the caliph, "and I do not take them in ill part."

Aboulcassem then made him descend by a winding staircase into a garden of vast extent, and after many turnings they entered the place where the treasure was concealed. It was a deep and spacious cavern closed at the entrance by a stone. Passing through this they entered a long alley, very dark and steep, at the end of which was a large saloon, brilliantly lighted by carbuncles. When they arrived at this room the young man unbound the caliph's eyes, and the latter gazed with astonishment on the scene before him. A basin of white marble, fifty feet in circumference and thirty feet deep, stood in the middle of the apartment. It was full of large pieces of gold, and ranged round it were twelve columns of the same metal, supporting as many statues composed of precious stones of admirable workmanship. Aboulcassem conducted the prince to the edge of the basin and said to him, "This basin is thirty feet deep. Look at that mass of gold pieces. They are scarcely diminished the depth of two fingers. Do you think I shall soon spend all this?"

Haroun, after attentively looking at the basin, replied: "Here are, I confess, immense riches, but you still may exhaust them."

"Well," said the young man, "when this basin is empty I shall have recourse to what I am now going to show you."

He then proceeded to another room, more brilliant still, where on a number of red brocaded sofas were immense quantities of pearls and diamonds. Here was also another marble basin, not so large or so deep as that filled with gold pieces, but to make up for this, full of rubies, topazes, emeralds, and all sorts of precious stones. Never was surprise equal to that of the caliph's. He could scarcely believe he was awake, this new basin seemed like enchantment. His gaze was still fixed on it, when Aboulcassem made him observe two persons seated on a throne of gold, who he said were the first masters of the treasure. They were a prince and princess, having on their heads crowns of diamonds. They appeared as if still alive, and were in a reclining posture, their heads leaning against each other. At their feet was a table of ebony, on which were written these words in letters of gold: "I have amassed all these riches during the course of a long life. I have taken and pillaged towns and castles, have conquered kingdoms and overthrown my enemies. I have been the most powerful monarch in the world, but all my power has yielded to that of death. Whoever sees me in this state ought to reflect upon it. Let him remember that once I was living, and that he also must die. He need not fear diminishing this treasure: it will never be exhausted. Let him endeavour so to use it as to make friends both for this world and the next. Let him lead a life of generosity and charity, for in the end he must also die. His riches cannot save him from the fate common to all men."

"I will no longer disapprove of your conduct," said Haroun to the young man on reading these words; "you are right in living as you now do, and I condemn the advice given you by the old merchant. But I should like to know the name of this prince. What king could have possessed such riches? I am sorry this inscription does not inform us."

The young man next took the caliph to see another room in which also there were many rarities of even greater value than what he had seen, amongst others several trees like the one he had given the prince. Haroun would willingly have passed the remainder of the night admiring all that was contained in this wonderful cavern, but the son of Abdelaziz, fearing to be observed by his servants, wished to return before daybreak in the same manner as they came, namely, the caliph blindfolded and bareheaded, and Aboulcassem with his scimitar in his hand, ready to cut off the prince's head if he made the least resistance. In this order they traversed the garden, and ascended by the winding stairs to the room where the caliph had slept. Finding the tapers still burning, they conversed together till sunrise; the caliph then, with many thanks for the reception he had received, returned to the caravansary, from whence he took the road to Bagdad, with all the domestics and presents he had accepted from Aboulcassem.

Two days after the prince's departure, the vizir Aboulfatah, hearing of the magnificent gifts that Aboulcassem made to strangers when they came to see him, and above all astonished at the regularity of his payments to the king, the lieutenant, and himself, resolved to spare no means to discover the treasure from which he drew such inexhaustible supplies. This minister was one of those wicked men to whom the greatest crimes are nothing, when they wish to gain their own ends. He had a daughter eighteen years of age, and of surpassing beauty. She was named Balkis, and possessed every good quality of heart and mind. Prince Aly, nephew of the king of Basra, passionately loved her; he had already demanded her of her father, and they were soon to be married. Aboulfatah summoned Balkis one day to his presence and said: "My daughter, I have great need of your assistance. I wish you to array yourself in your richest robes, and go this evening to the house of the young Aboulcassem. You must do every thing to charm him, and oblige him to discover the treasure he has found."

Balkis trembled at this speech; her countenance expressed the horror she felt at this command. "My lord," said she, "what is it you propose to your daughter? Do you know the peril to which you may expose her? Consider the stain on your honour, and the outrage against the prince Aly."

"I have considered all this," answered the vizir, "but nothing will turn me from my resolution, and I order you to prepare to obey me."

The young Balkis burst into tears at these words. "For heaven's sake, my father," said the weeping girl, "stifle this feeling of avarice, seek not to despoil this man of what is his own. Leave him to enjoy his riches in peace."

"Be silent, insolent girl!" said the vizir angrily, "it does not become you to blame my actions. Answer me not. I desire you to repair to the house of Aboulcassem, and I swear that if you return without having seen his treasure, I will kill you."

Balkis, hearing this dreadful alternative, retired to her apartment overwhelmed with grief; she called her women, and made them attire her in the richest apparel and most costly ornaments, though in reality she needed nothing to enhance her natural beauty. No young girl was less desirous to please than Balkis. All she feared was appearing too beautiful in the eyes of the son of Abdelaziz, and not sufficiently so to prince Aly.

At length, when night arrived and Aboulfatah judged it time for his daughter to go, he secretly conducted her to the door of the young man's house, where he left her, after again declaring he would kill her if she returned unsuccessful. She timidly knocked and desired to speak to the son of Abdelaziz. A slave led her to a room where his master was reposing on a sofa, musing on the vicissitudes of his past life. As soon as Balkis appeared Aboulcassem rose to receive his visitor; he gravely saluted her, and, taking her hand with a respectful air, seated her on a sofa, at the same time inquiring why she honoured him by this visit. She answered, that hearing of his agreeable manners, she had resolved to spend an evening in his company.

"Beautiful lady," said he, "I must thank my lucky star for procuring me this delightful interview; I cannot express my happiness."

After some conversation supper was announced. They seated themselves at a table covered with choice delicacies. A great number of officers and pages were in attendance, but Aboulcassem dismissed them that the lady might not be exposed to their curious looks. He waited on her himself, presenting her with the best of every thing, and offering her wine in a gold cup enriched with diamonds and rubies. But all these polite attentions served but to increase the lady's uneasiness; and at length, frightened at the dangers which menaced her, she suddenly changed countenance and became pale as death, whilst her eyes filled with tears.

"What is it, madam?" said the young man much surprised; "why this sudden grief? Have I said or done any thing to cause your tears to flow? Speak, I implore you; inform me of the cause of your sorrow."

"Oh, Mahomet!" exclaimed Balkis, "I can dissimulate no longer; the part I am acting is insupportable. I have deceived you, Aboulcassem; I am a lady of rank. My father, who knows you have a hidden treasure, wishes me to discover where you have concealed it. He has ordered me to come here and spare no means to induce you to show it me. I refused to do so, but he has sworn to kill me if I return without being able to satisfy his curiosity. What an unhappy fate is mine! If I was not beloved by a prince who will soon marry me, this cruel vow of my father's would not appear so terrible."

When the daughter of Aboulfatah had thus spoken, Aboulcassem said to her, "Madam, I am very glad you have informed me of this. You will not repent your noble frankness; you shall see my treasure, and be treated with all the respect you may desire. Do not weep, therefore, or any longer afflict yourself."

"Ah, my lord," exclaimed Balkis at this speech, "it is not without reason that you pass for the most generous of men. I am charmed with your noble conduct, and shall not be satisfied until I have found means to testify my gratitude."

After this conversation Aboulcassem conducted the lady to the same chamber that the caliph had occupied, where they remained until all was quiet in the dwelling. Then blindfolding the eyes of Balkis he said, "Pardon me, madam, for being obliged to act thus, but it is only on this condition that I can show you my treasure."

"Do what you please, my lord," answered Balkis; "I have so much confidence in your generosity that I will follow wherever you desire; I have no fear but that of not sufficiently repaying your kindness."

Aboulcassem then took her by the hand, and causing her to descend to the garden by the winding stairs, he entered the cavern and removed the bandage from her eyes. If the caliph had been surprised to see such heaps of gold and precious stones, Balkis was still more so. Every thing she saw astonished her. But the objects that most attracted her attention were the ancient owners of the treasure. As the queen had on a necklace composed of pearls as large as pigeons' eggs, Balkis could not avoid expressing her admiration. Aboulcassem detached it from the neck of the princess, and placed it round that of the young lady, saying her father would judge from this that she had seen the treasure; he then, after much persuasion, made her take a large quantity of precious stones which he himself chose for her.

The young man then, fearing the day would dawn whilst she was looking at the wonders of the cavern, again placed the bandage over her eyes, and conducted her to a saloon where they conversed together until sunrise. Balkis then took leave, repeatedly assuring the son of Abdelaziz that she would never forget his generous conduct.

She hastened to her father's and informed him of all that had passed. The vizir had been impatiently awaiting his daughter's return. Fearing she might not be sufficiently able to charm Aboulcassem, he remained in a state of inconceivable agitation. But when he saw her enter with the necklace and precious stones that Aboulcassem had given her, he was transported with joy.

"Well, my daughter," he said, "have you seen the treasure?"

"Yes, my lord," answered Balkis, "and to give you a just idea of its magnitude, I tell you that if all the kings of the world were to unite their riches, they could not be compared to those of Aboulcassem. But still, however vast this young man's treasures, I am less charmed with them than with his politeness and generosity." And she then related to her father the whole of her adventure.

In the mean time Haroun-al-Raschid was advancing towards Bagdad. As soon as he arrived at his palace he set his chief vizir at liberty, and restored him to his confidence. He then proceeded to relate to him the events of his journey, and ended by asking, "Giafar, what shall I do? You know the gratitude of monarchs ought to surpass the pleasures they have received. If I should send the magnificent Aboulcassem the choicest and most precious treasure I possess, it will be but a slight gift, far inferior to the presents he has made me. How then can I surpass him in generosity?"

"My lord," replied the vizir, "since your majesty condescends to consult me, I should write this day to the king of Basra and order him to commit the government of the state to the young Aboulcassem. We can soon despatch the courier, and in a few days I will depart myself to Basra and present the patents to the new king."

The caliph approved of this advice. "You are right," he said to his minister, "it will be the only means of acquitting myself towards Aboulcassem, and of taking vengeance on the king of Basra and his unworthy vizir, who have concealed from me the considerable sums they have extorted from this young man. It is but just to punish them for their violence against him; they are unworthy of the situations they occupy."

He immediately wrote to the king of Basra and despatched the courier. He then went to the apartment of the princess Zobeide to inform her of the success of his journey, and presented her with the little page, the tree, and the peacock. He also gave her a beautiful female slave. Zobeide found this slave so charming that she smilingly told the caliph she accepted this gift with more pleasure than all his other presents. The prince kept only the cup for himself; the vizir Giafar had all the rest; and this good minister, as he had before resolved, made preparations for his departure from Bagdad.

The courier of the caliph no sooner arrived in the town of Basra than he hastened to present his despatch to the king, who was greatly concerned on reading it. The prince showed it to his vizir. "Aboulfatah," said he, "see the fatal order that I have received from the commander of the faithful. Can I refuse to obey it?"

"Yes, my lord," answered the minister; "do not afflict yourself. Aboulcassem must be removed from hence. Without taking his life I will make every one believe he is dead. I can keep him so well concealed that he shall never be seen again; and by this means you will always remain on the throne and possess the riches of this young man; for when we are masters of his person we can increase his sufferings until he is obliged to reveal where his treasure is concealed."

"Do what you like," replied the king; "but what answer shall we send the caliph?"

"Leave that to me. The commander of the faithful will be deceived as well as others. Let me execute the design I meditate, and the rest need cause you no uneasiness."

Aboulfatah then, accompanied by some courtiers who were ignorant of his intention, went to pay a visit to Aboulcassem. He received them according to their rank, regaled them magnificently, seated the vizir in the place of honour, and loaded him with presents without having the least suspicion of his perfidy. Whilst they were at table and partaking of the most delicious wines, the treacherous Aboulfatah skilfully threw unperceived into the cup of the son of Abdelaziz a powder which would render him insensible, and cause his body to remain in a state of lethargy resembling that of a corpse long deprived of life. The young man had no sooner taken the cup from his lips than he fainted away. His servants hastened to support him, but soon perceiving he had all the appearance of a dead man, they placed him on a sofa and uttered the most lamentable cries. The guests, struck with sudden terror, were silent from astonishment. As for Aboulfatah, it is impossible to say how well he dissimulated. He not only feigned the most immoderate grief, but tore his clothes and excited the rest of the company to follow his example. He ordered a coffin to be made of ivory and ebony, and while they were preparing it, he collected all the effects of Aboulcassem and placed them in the king's palace. The account of the young man's death soon spread abroad. All persons, men and women, put on mourning, and came to the door of the house, their heads and feet bare; old and young men, women and girls, were bathed in tears, filling the air with their cries and lamentations. Some said they had lost in him an only son, others a brother or a husband tenderly beloved. Rich and poor were equally afflicted at his death; the rich mourned a friend who had always welcomed them, and the poor a benefactor whose charity had never been equalled. His death caused a general consternation.

Meanwhile the unhappy Aboulcassem was enclosed in the coffin, and a procession having been formed, the people, by order of Aboulfatah, carried him out of the town to a large cemetery containing a number of tombs, and amongst others a magnificent one where reposed the vizir's father and many others of his family. They placed the coffin in this tomb, and the perfidious Aboulfatah, leaning his head on his knees, beat his breast, and gave way apparently to the most violent grief. Those present pitied and prayed heaven to console him. As night approached the people returned to the town, but the vizir remained with two of his slaves in the tomb, the door of which he shut and double locked. They lit a fire, warmed some water in a silver basin, and taking Aboulcassem from the coffin, bathed him with the warm water. The young man by degrees regained his senses. He cast his eyes on Aboulfatah, whom he at once recognized. "Ah, my lord," said he, "where are we, and to what state am I reduced?"

"Wretch!" answered the minister, "know that it is I who have caused your misfortune. I brought you here to have you in my power, and to make you suffer a thousand torments if you will not discover to me your treasure. I will rack your body with tortures--will invent each day new sufferings to render life insupportable: in a word, I will never cease to persecute you until you deliver me those hidden treasures which enable you to live with even more magnificence than kings."

"You can do what you please," replied Aboulcassem; "I will never reveal my treasure."

He had scarcely uttered these words, when the cruel Aboulfatah, making his slaves seize the unfortunate son of Abdelaziz, drew from his robe a whip made of twisted lion's skin, with which he struck so long and with such violence that the young man fainted. When the vizir saw him in this state, he commanded the slaves to replace him in the coffin, and leaving him in the tomb, which he firmly secured, returned to his palace.

On the morrow he went to inform the king of what he had done. "Sire," said he, "I tried yesterday, but in vain, to overcome the firmness of Aboulcassem; however, I have now prepared torments for him which I think he cannot resist."

The prince, who was quite as barbarous as his minister, said, "Vizir, I am perfectly satisfied with all you have done. Ere long, I hope, we shall know where this treasure is concealed. But we must send back the courier without delay. What shall I write to the caliph?"

"Tell him, my lord, that Aboulcassem, hearing he was to occupy your place, was so enchanted, and made such great rejoicings, that he died suddenly at a feast."

The king approved of this advice, and writing immediately to Haroun-al-Raschid, despatched the courier. The vizir, flattering himself that he should at length be able to force Aboulcassem to reveal his treasure, left the town, resolving to extract the secret or leave him to perish. But on arriving at the tomb, he was surprised to find the door open. He entered trembling, and not seeing the son of Abdelaziz in the coffin, he nearly lost his senses. Returning instantly to the palace, he related to the king what had occurred. The monarch, seized with a mortal terror, exclaimed, "Oh, Waschi! what will become of us? Since this young man has escaped, we are lost. He will not fail to hasten to Bagdad, and acquaint the caliph with all that has taken place."

Aboulfatah, on his part, in despair that the victim of his avarice was no longer in his power, said to the king his master, "What would I now give to have taken his life yesterday! He would not then have caused us such uneasiness. But we will not quite despair yet; if he has taken flight, as no doubt he has, he cannot be very far from here. Let me take some soldiers of your guard, and search in all the environs of the town; I hope still to find him."

The king instantly consented to so important a step. He assembled all his soldiers, and dividing them into two bodies, gave the command of one to his vizir, and placing himself at the head of the other, prepared with his troops to search in all parts of his kingdom.

Whilst they were seeking Aboulcassem in the villages, woods, and mountains, the vizir Giafar, who was already on the road to Basra, met the courier returning, who said to him, "My lord, it is useless for you to proceed further, if Aboulcassem is the sole cause of your journey, for this young man is dead; his funeral took place some days past; my eyes were witnesses of the mournful ceremony."

Giafar, who had looked forward with pleasure to see the new king, and present his patents, was much afflicted at his death. He shed tears on hearing the sad news, and, thinking it was useless to continue his journey, retraced his steps. As soon as he arrived at Bagdad, he went with the courier to the palace. The sadness of his countenance informed the king he had some misfortune to announce.

"Ah, Giafar!" exclaimed the prince, "you have soon returned. What are you come to tell me?'

"Commander of the faithful," answered the vizir, "you do not, I am sure, expect to hear the bad news I am going to tell. Aboulcassem is no more; since your departure from Basra the young man has lost his life."

Haroun-al-Raschid had no sooner heard these words than he threw himself from his throne. He remained some moments extended on the ground without giving any signs of life. At length his eyes sought the courier, who had returned from Basra, and he asked for the despatch. The prince read it with much attention. He shut himself in his cabinet with Giafar, and showed him the letter from the king of Basra. After re-reading it many times, the caliph said,

"This does not appear to me natural; I begin to suspect that the king of Basra and his vizir, instead of executing my orders, have put Aboulcassem to death."

"My lord," said Giafar, "the same suspicion occurred to me, and I advise that they should both be secured."

"That is what I determine from this moment," said Haroun; "take ten thousand horsemen of my guard, march to Basra, seize the two guilty wretches, and bring them here. I will revenge the death of this most generous of men."

"We will now return to the son of Abdelaziz, and relate why the vizir Aboulfatah did not find him in the tomb. The young man, after long remaining insensible, was beginning to recover, when he felt himself laid hold of by powerful arms, taken from the coffin, and gently laid on the earth. He thought it was the vizir and his slaves come again on their cruel errand.

"Executioners!" he cried, "put me to death at once; if you have any pity spare me these useless torments, for again I declare that nothing you can do will ever tempt me to reveal my secret."

"Fear not, young man," answered one of the persons who had lifted him from the coffin; "instead of ill-treating you, we are come to your assistance."

At these words Aboulcassem opened his eyes, and, looking at his liberators, recognized the young lady to whom he had shown his treasure.

"Ah, madam!" he said, "is it to you I owe my life?"

"Yes, my lord," answered Balkis; "to myself and prince Aly, my betrothed, whom you see with me. Informed of your noble behaviour, he wished to share with me the pleasure of delivering you from death."

"It is quite true," said prince Aly; "I would expose my life a thousand times, rather than leave so generous a man to perish."

The son of Abdelaziz, having entirely recovered his senses by the help of some cordials they had given him, expressed to the lady and the prince his grateful thanks for the service they had rendered him, and asked how they had been informed he still lived.

"My lord," said Balkis, "I am the daughter of the vizir Aboulfatah. I was not deceived by the false report of your death. I suspected my father in this affair, and, bribing one of his slaves, was informed of all concerning you. This slave is one of the two who were with him in the tomb, and as he had charge of the key he confided it to me for a few hours. I no sooner made this affair known to prince Aly than he hastened to join me with some of his confidential domestics. We lost not a moment in coming hither, and, thanks be to heaven, we did not arrive too late."

"Oh, Mahomet!" said Aboulcassem, "is it possible so unworthy and cruel a father possesses such a daughter?"

"Let us depart, my lord," said prince Aly; "the time is precious. I doubt not but that to-morrow the vizir, finding you have escaped, will seek you in all directions. I am going to conduct you to my house, where you will be in perfect safety, for no one will suspect me of giving you an asylum."

They then covered Aboulcassem with a slave's robe, and all left the tomb. Balkis proceeded to her father's, and returned the key to the slave, whilst prince Aly took the son of Abdelaziz to his own palace, and kept him so well concealed, that it was impossible his enemies could discover him. Aboulcassem remained some time in prince Aly's house, who treated him most kindly, until the king and his vizir, despairing of finding him, gave up their search. The prince then gave him a very beautiful horse, loaded him with sequins and precious stones, and said to him:

"You can now safely depart; the roads are open, and your enemies know not what is become of you. Hasten to seek a place where you will be secure from harm."

The young man thanked this generous prince for his hospitality, and assured him he should ever gratefully remember it. Prince Aly embraced him, and prayed heaven to protect and watch over him on his journey. Aboulcassem then took the road to Bagdad, and arrived there in safety a few days afterwards. The first thing he did on entering the city was to hasten to the place where the merchants usually assembled. The hope of seeing there some one he had known at Basra, and of relating his misfortunes, was his only consolation. He was vexed at being unable to find this place, and traversing the town, sought in vain for the face of a friend amongst the multitudes he met. Feeling fatigued, he stopped before the caliph's palace to rest a little: the page whom he had given to his former guest was then at a window, and the child looking by chance that way, instantly recognized him. He ran to the caliph's apartment.

"My lord," he exclaimed, "I have just seen my old master from Basra!"

Haroun put no faith in this report. "You are mistaken," he said; "Aboulcassem no longer lives. Deceived by some fancied resemblance, you have taken another for him."

"No, no, commander of the faithful; I assure you it is he: I am certain I am not mistaken."

Though the caliph did not believe this assertion, still he wished to fathom the mystery, and sent one of his officers with the page to see the man the boy declared was the son of Abdelaziz. They found him in the same place, for, imagining he had recognized his little page, he waited till the child reappeared at the window. When the boy was convinced he was not deceived, he threw himself at the feet of Aboulcassem, who raised him, and asked if he had the honour of belonging to the caliph.

"Yes, my lord," said the child; "it was to the commander of the faithful himself--he it was whom you entertained at Basra--it was to him that you gave me. Come with me, my lord; the caliph will be delighted to see you."

The surprise of the young man at this speech was extreme. He allowed himself to be conducted into the palace by the page and the officer, and was soon ushered into the apartment of Haroun. The prince was seated on a sofa. He was extremely affected at the sight of Aboulcassem. He hastened towards the young man, and held him long embraced without uttering a word, so much was he transported with joy. When he recovered a little from his emotion he said to the son of Abdelaziz:

"Young man, open your eyes, and recognize your happy guest. It was I whom you received so hospitably, and to whom you gave presents that kings could not equal."

At these words Aboulcassem, who was not less moved than the caliph, and who from respect had drawn his cloak over his head, and had not yet dared to look up, now uncovered his face, and said:

"Oh, my sovereign master! oh, king of the world, was it you who honoured your slave's house?" And he threw himself at the feet of Haroun, and kissed the floor before him.

"How is it," said the prince, raising him, and placing him on a sofa, "that you are still alive? Tell me all that has happened to you."

Aboulcassem then related the cruelties of Aboulfatah, and how he had been preserved from the fury of that vizir. Haroun listened attentively, and then said:

"Aboulcassem, I am the cause of your misfortunes. On my return to Bagdad, wishing to repay my debt to you, I sent a courier to the king of Basra, desiring him to resign his crown to you. Instead of executing my orders, he resolved to take your life. Aboulfatah, by putting you to the most frightful tortures, hoped to induce you to reveal your treasures; that was the sole reason he delayed your death. But you would have been revenged. Giafar, with a large body of my troops, is gone to Basra. I have given him orders to seize your two persecutors, and to bring them here. In the mean time you shall remain in my palace, and be attended by my officers with as much respect as myself."

After this speech he took the young man by the hand, and made him descend to a garden, filled with the choicest flowers. There he saw basins of marble, porphyry, and jasper, which served for reservoirs to multitudes of beautiful fish. In the midst of the garden, supported upon twelve lofty pillars of black marble, was a dome, the roof of sandal wood and aloes. The spaces between the columns were closed by a double trellis-work of gold, which formed an aviary containing thousands of canaries of different colours, nightingales, linnets, and other harmonious birds, who mingling their notes formed the most charming concert. The baths of Haroun-al-Raschid were under this dome. The prince and his guest took a bath, after which the attendants rubbed them with the finest towels, which had never before been used. They then clothed Aboulcassem in rich apparel. The caliph conducted him to a chamber where refreshments awaited them, such as roasted fowls and lamb, white soups, pomegranates from Amlas and Ziri, pears from Exhali, grapes from Melah and Sevise, and apples from Ispahan. After they had partaken of these delicacies, and drunk some delicious wine, the caliph conducted Aboulcassem to Zobeide's apartment. This princess was seated on a throne of gold, surrounded by her slaves, who were ranged standing on each side of her; some had tambourines, others flutes and harps. At that moment their instruments were mute, all being attentively engaged in listening to a young girl whose charming voice rang through the saloon like the warblings of a nightingale. As soon as Zobeide perceived the caliph and the son of Abdelaziz, she descended from her throne to receive them.

"Madam," said Haroun, "allow me to present to you my host of Basra."

The young man prostrated himself before the princess. At this moment the vizir Giafar was heard returning with the troops, and bringing with him Aboulfatah securely bound. As for the king of Basra, he was left behind dying of grief and fright at not finding Aboulcassem. Giafar had no sooner rendered an account of his mission, than the caliph ordered a scaffold to be erected before the palace, to which the wicked Aboulfatah was conducted. The people knowing the cruelty of this vizir, instead of being touched with his misfortune, testified the utmost impatience to witness his execution. The executioner was already prepared, sabre in hand, to strike off the guilty man's head, when the son of Abdelaziz prostrating himself before the caliph, exclaimed, "Oh, commander of the faithful, yield to my prayers the life of Aboulfatah! Let him live to witness my happiness, to behold all the favours you are conferring upon me, and he will be sufficiently punished."

"Oh, too generous Aboulcassem," replied the caliph, "you, indeed, deserve a crown! Happy the people of Basra to have you for their king."

"My lord, I have one more favour to ask. Give to the prince Aly the throne you destined for myself. Let him reign, together with the lady who had the generosity to avert from me the fury of her father; these two lovers are worthy this honour. As to myself, cherished and protected by the commander of the faithful, I have no need of a crown; I shall be superior to kings."

The caliph assented to this proposal, and to recompense prince Aly for the service he had rendered the son of Abdelaziz, sent him the patents, and made him king of Basra; but finding Aboulfatah too guilty to accord him liberty as well as life, he ordered the vizir to be shut up in a dark tower for the remainder of his days. When the people of Bagdad were informed that it was Aboulcassem himself who had begged the life of his persecutor, they showered a thousand praises on the generous young man, who soon after departed for Basra, escorted by a troop of the caliph's guards, and a great number of his officers.

VIII.

THE OLD CAMEL.

Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, a merchant at Miliana, was a mere lover of gain; he never gave away any thing in alms; his heart was dry as the earth in the hottest days of summer, and never open to pity for the unfortunate. To amass, to amass for ever was the sole desire of Eggadi. But in what did his riches consist? None could say, for he concealed them with the utmost care.

One day one of his camels having died, he bought to replace it the only camel of Ali-Benala, a poor dealer in mats. This camel was the sole heritage of which Ali came into possession at the death of his father. He sold it for much less than its value;--Eggadi, who was an adept at bargaining, depreciating it in every possible way, especially on account of its extreme age.

On his next journey Eggadi added this camel to his little caravan. As he was passing a solitary place, he was surprised to see the camel betake itself with hasty steps to a spot at some distance behind some rocks, and on its arrival there kneel down and groan, as camels usually do when they expect to be unloaded. A negro, having run after the animal, brought it back to its place in the caravan.

Eggadi soon took a second journey on the same road, and on this occasion too the camel sold him by Ali-Benala again quitted the rank, and was again observed to kneel down and groan at the same place. This time Eggadi followed it, and saw with surprise that the spot at which it stopped was one where no merchant of any country had been ever known to unload his merchandise. He reflected deeply on this circumstance, and in the end resolved to revisit the spot alone with the camel, who, faithful perhaps to some recollection, might, he thought, be the means of disclosing to him some mysterious act, or perhaps the place where a treasure lay concealed.

Eggadi returned, in short, soon after, to this solitary spot. He had brought with him a spade, and proceeded to dig with care around the camel, who had invariably knelt in the same place. He had scarcely laboured ten minutes ere he discovered traces of another spade; this redoubled his zeal, and soon after, to his intense satisfaction, he came upon some bags of money, then a coffer firmly shut, but which contained, he could not doubt, objects of costly value. He first took the bags, which were filled with good and true Spanish doubloons; with these he loaded his camel, who thus had gained nothing but a double burden for his pains; then, having re-covered with stones and sand the precious coffer, which he resolved upon examining another time, he returned with his mind greatly preoccupied, asking himself whether it must not have been the old father of Ali-Benala to whom all the wealth he had just discovered formerly belonged.

This question, which he could not help addressing to his conscience over and over again, prevented him from fully enjoying the possession of his treasure. Although he dearly loved money, yet Eggadi to obtain possession of it had never yet plundered the widow and the orphan. The first step in the road to evil is not accomplished without difficulty and without remorse; Eggadi painfully experienced the truth of this. "And yet," said he to himself, "I made a fair bargain with poor Ali for this very camel which has been the means of my finding a treasure."

Before going to take possession of the coffer left underground behind the rocks, Eggadi, impelled by his conscience, approached the miserable shop where Ali carried on the sale of his mats, and said to him:

"How comes it, Ali, that your father, rich as it is said he was, left you no fortune, only an old camel and a house in ruins?"

"Ah!" replied Ali, "my father was good to the poor. Not only did he call every poor man his brother, but assisted him to the utmost of his power. At times, however, I have suspected that my father may have had riches concealed in some spot, and that he intended to bestow them upon me before he died. And I will tell you what led me to suppose so.

"A few moments before his death he sent for me, and said: 'I have a great secret to confide to thee. Come close to me that my voice may reach thy ear alone: but before our conversation, my son, let us pray to Allah to grant us on this solemn day that which is best for us.'

"We prayed, and in ten minutes my father was no more. Allah, no doubt, judged that that which was best for me was poverty. Allah be praised."

Ali bowed his head profoundly, laying his hand upon his breast. Eggadi, much disturbed at the virtuous resignation of Ali-Benala, rejoined:

"But thinkest thou, that if good fortune befel thee, thou wouldst know how to make good use of it?"

"Allah alone knows," said Ali. "Should he ever see fit to make me rich, he will know how to fit me for the change. For myself, I cannot succeed in improving the poverty of my estate. I work incessantly, but nothing succeeds with me. My oxen, if I have any, drown themselves in crossing a torrent; my goods either do not sell or are damaged. I am destined to possess upon this earth nothing but this miserable hut, which has been my only home for ten years, But what matters it, provided I fulfil the law of the prophet? I shall see Abraham, in heaven. If at times my poverty renders me uneasy, it is only for the sake of my poor children, who live miserably in a house as open to the wind and the rain as though it were without a roof."

"Well," said Eggadi, "it is certainly not just that such an honest man as thou should be in such a wretched state of poverty."

"How! not just!" replied Ali. "Are there not, then, many honest men who are no richer than myself?"

"That may be," said Eggadi. "Nevertheless, since thy father was rich, it seems to be but just that thou shouldst be so too, and I come to propose to thee to enter into partnership with me. I have two good houses outside the town; one shall be for thy family, the other for mine. We will live as brothers, and unite our children as in the time of the patriarchs."

Ali remained greatly astonished at such a proposition, coming especially from Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, who had never had any friendship for him, and who so far from evincing any generosity towards him, had bargained with him for his poor camel like the veriest Jew in the world.

He therefore remained silent, neither accepting nor refusing the offer, but looking with an abstracted air upon the mats in his miserable dwelling.

"Well," said Eggadi, ashamed at the bottom of his heart at making this show of generosity to one whom he was secretly despoiling, "well, thou dost not reply to me?"

"Grant me time to imitate the example of my father by invoking Allah before taking a resolution," said Ali. "Allah alone can know whether it will be best for me to keep at once my poverty and the freedom of all my actions, or to accept opulence and with it the necessity of being always of thy opinion; for bringing into our partnership nothing but my two stout arms, I should be an ingrate if I did not yield in every thing to thy wishes."

Eggadi involuntarily cast down his eyes before this poor man who spoke with so much wisdom.

"Well," said he again, "reflect till to-morrow, and come to me in the morning under the palm trees in front of my house; I will there await thee."

Then these two men separated. Ali, praying in the mosque, thought he heard his father pronounce these words. "Never associate thyself save with him who has no more than thyself, and who already knows the right way. The good are spoilt by associating with the rogue and the miser, whilst neither rogue nor miser is reformed by association with one better than himself."

The next morning Ali repaired to the palm trees which grew before the house of Eggadi, where the latter awaited him uneasy and fatigued after a sleepless night. After the usual Mussulman salutation, Ali-Benala said to the rich Eggadi:

"How comes it that thou appearest sad, thou who possessest fine houses, coffers of gold, and merchandise, whilst I, I who have nothing, rise with a joyous heart, and smoke my pipe all day with pleasure, seated on the threshold of my poor shop?"

"The weight of business overwhelms me," replied Eggadi; "I have great need of some one to share it."

"Then why not diminish thy transactions, and live in peace?" inquired Ali.

"No, no, it is impossible to set limits to one's purchases and sales. A fortunate speculation balances an unlucky one. You must accept all if you would grow rich. But come, hast thou decided? Wilt thou enter into partnership with me?"

"I have reflected and prayed," said Ali. "I am very grateful for thy offers, and Allah will doubtless recompense thee; but prudence forbids me to accept them. I will never enter into partnership but with one who is as poor as myself."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, "be no longer then surprised at thy poverty, since thou refusest the opportunity of enriching thyself. The traveller who does not stop beneath the first trees he meets runs the risk of not finding another upon his road, and of performing the whole journey without enjoying their refreshing shade. Such a man would have no right to complain of the dust of the roads, or the heat of the sun."

"I do not complain," replied Ali, "I come, on the contrary, to tell thee that I live and sleep in peace."

"It is well, it is well," said Eggadi, who had not closed his eyes till the morning, "it is well, remain as thou art. Instead of gold pieces, be content to receive rain-drops through thy roof, eat bread when thou hast any, and go fasting oftener; it concerns me no more."

"I should be a fool," added he internally, "to trouble myself any longer about the poverty of this man." And he remembered his fine house, where gilded cakes, a delicious repast, and rich and rare fruits awaited him.

He ate his meal in company with his sons; then he washed his beard and hands, rose from the table, and called his wife, his daughters, his mother, and his grandmother, and said to them, "Women, eat in your turn; this is for you."

The women respectfully kissed his hands, and proceeded to make their meal, whilst he went and sat down out of doors, and smoked with his sons, to whom he spoke as follows whilst a negro waited upon him with coffee:

"I am about to take another journey. During my absence see to such and such things, and do not forget any of my orders, if you would not run the risk of becoming poor, poor--" he was going to say, "as Ali, the seller of mats," but this name excited too keenly his remorse; he could not venture to pronounce it.

So that in spite of the good repast of which he had just partaken, Eggadi felt ill at ease, for the thought was ever recurring to him, "Ali is poor, his father was rich, and it is I who have unjustly taken possession of his father's wealth." Meanwhile Eggadi had this very moderate relief, he might still enjoy the benefit of a doubt as to whether the father of Ali was really the possessor of the discovered treasures. However, the coffer left behind the rocks would doubtless throw a light upon this matter. Eggadi proceeded at once in search of this coffer; he opened it, and his eyes, dazzled though they were by the precious objects that met their gaze, were constrained to perceive at the same time a sheet of parchment, upon which the following words were very distinctly inscribed:

"All the treasures buried in this spot have been lawfully acquired, or received in heritage by me, Mustapha Selim. I bequeath them to my only son, Ali-Benala, who has ever been a faithful servant of Allah, and respectful towards me. May he, and his children, and his children's children inherit and enjoy these possessions, to which I add my benediction."

As soon as Eggadi had read these words a profound sadness took possession of him, for he could no longer doubt that these hidden riches were the inheritance of Ali-Benala. If therefore he appropriated them, he was a despoiler of the poor and the orphan. It would have been so delightful to have been able to keep up the illusion, and to say to himself: "This wealth was without an owner; Allah has been pleased to bestow it on me!" But if Eggadi had never as yet committed any very culpable actions, he had never done any good ones, and did not merit the protection of heaven. He dared not doubt that by keeping unlawful possession of the property of Ali he should incur the wrath of heaven; at the same time he could not bring himself to renounce it. He took the coffer, carried it home, meditating by turns on the uses to which he might turn his great fortune, and on what might be done by way of compromising his conscience for poor Ali, his children, and his children's children.

Arrived at his own house, he placed his treasures in a large chest, which he kept thenceforth in the chamber where he passed his nights. By day, too, this coffer often served him for a seat; whilst scarce a day passed without his opening it, to assure himself that nothing had disappeared. He kept it carefully fastened with the aid of several locks and a master key, of which he never gave up the possession.

Eggadi contemplated a thousand times these treasures acquired with so little trouble; if we can call that gained with little trouble which is purchased at the price of our peace of mind. And each time after having contemplated them, he would repeat to himself the words of Ali, "Allah will no doubt recompense thee." "Ah! if he recompenses me as I deserve," he could not help reflecting, "he will send me great disasters indeed."