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 PRINTED IN aSA 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924052645243 
 
CARAVAN TALES 
 
'.■ '/A Caravan 
 in the Desert." 
 
CARAVAN TALES 
 
 AND SOME OTHERS 
 
 BY 
 
 WILHELM HAUFF 
 
 FREELY ADAPTED AND RETOLD 
 
 BY 
 
 J. G. HORNSTEIN 
 
 3Ilustrate& bg 
 NORMAN AULT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COjVIPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 

TO DONALD 
 
 THIS heading will, I am sure, be a very 
 great surprise to you, but I think it 
 is only right that I should in this way 
 thank you for the help you have given towards 
 my share of the making of this beautiful book. 
 
 It was to amuse you on our many long 
 walks over the fields and by the river meadows 
 of the country-side you love so well that I 
 took to telHng you about the Eastern stories 
 here printed. 
 
 They were very familiar stories to me, not 
 only because I had first heard them when I 
 was a child of your age, but also because it 
 was to become part of the business of my 
 life as a man to read them over and over 
 again with a whole generation of schoolboys. 
 
 The great charm about these stories was 
 that they somehow never seemed to grow 
 stale, and that, although they had to be read 
 with much labour, they never failed in the 
 long-run to arouse interest, and to repay in 
 
To Donald 
 
 pleasure what they had cost in trouble to 
 study and understand. 
 
 It had often been remarked to me what a 
 pity it was that such good stories should be 
 practically buried away in forbidding class- 
 books, and remain unknown to the greater 
 number of happy-hearted, adventure-loving 
 English boys — and girls, too, for the matter 
 of that — in these freer and better times. 
 
 But it was not till your own belated appear- 
 ance in my little world gently led me back once 
 more to the golden gates of Eastern story-land 
 that these delightful tales began again to fasci- 
 nate me ; and it was your delight in them which 
 finally inspired me to write them down. 
 
 The more or less easy task I had proposed 
 to myself was, however, to be made a harder 
 one than I expected by the lack of interest 
 you showed in my work. 
 
 My stories on paper were not the stories 
 you liked to hear on our rambles ; there was 
 something wrong with them — they were 
 insipid and unreal. 
 
 Then it was that I put away that little 
 blue book with its crowded pages of quaint 
 and unintelligible characters which puzzled 
 you so much, and wrote the words down as 
 if they came out of my own head. 
 
 It was a bold thing to do ; I sometimes felt 
 vi 
 
To Donald 
 
 it was almost a wicked thing, and there may 
 be many who will blame me harshly for doing 
 it, but I must not mind the worst that can 
 be said of me, for it is the approval my under- 
 taking met with from you which makes me hope 
 that, although the grave and the learned may 
 be against me, I shall have aU you young and 
 happy children to stand up and fight for me. 
 
 It is for you who can still wander so free 
 and merrily in realms of fancy that this book 
 is intended, and if it can please you, I shall 
 not only have my reward, but also the happi- 
 ness of having done something to spread the 
 fame of Wilhelm HaufE, to whose genius this 
 book owes its existence. 
 
 There is very little to be said about the life 
 of WHhelm HaufC. 
 
 He was born at Stuttgart, the capital of the 
 smaU kingdom of Wiirtemberg, in the South 
 of Germany, on the 29th of November, 1802. 
 His father died when he was seven years old, 
 but he was fortunate in having a wise and 
 gifted mother, who carefully watched over 
 him, and lovingly encouraged the talent he 
 early showed as a teller of good stories. 
 
 He was what is called a dehcate boy, and, 
 like many such boys, he was a great reader, 
 and was passionately fond of history, and of 
 tales of romance and adventure. The famous 
 
 vii 
 
To Donald 
 
 Waverley Novels of Sir Walter Scott were his 
 special favourites. 
 
 He passed through his school-days without 
 attracting much notice to himself or to his 
 remarkable abihties. 
 
 In 1820 he went to the University of Tiibin- 
 gen. His mother's dearest wish was that he 
 should become a clergyman, and, although his 
 studies were directed towards gratifying this 
 Avish, his Hght-hearted temperament unfitted 
 him for so serious and responsible a calling. 
 
 When he left Tiibingen, therefore, in 1824, 
 he accepted the post of a private tutor to the 
 children of a nobleman, the Freiherr von 
 Hiigel, at Stuttgart. 
 
 It was for these pupils of his that he com- 
 posed his dehghtful "Die Kara vane," a series 
 of Eastern tales, the four best of which have 
 been adapted and stand first in this book. 
 
 They were called "The Caravan," because 
 they were supposed to have been told by 
 various members of a great company of mer- 
 chants, in order to while away the tedious 
 hours of the long halts they were obUged to 
 make during the scorching heat of the after- 
 noon on their journey across the desert to 
 Bagdad. 
 
 These caravans are still a striking feature 
 in the overland traffic of Eastern Asia and 
 
To Donald 
 
 Northern Africa, where vast tracts of dreary, 
 uninhabited, and trackless wastes have to be 
 crossed with valuable camel and mule loads 
 of silk stuflfs, woven fabrics, and delicately- 
 wrought metal and other precious goods. 
 
 For mutual company, support, and protec- 
 tion against the lawless bands of fierce robbers 
 who rove murdering and plundering in those 
 solitary places of the earth, the traders have 
 been wont from time immemorial to combine 
 into big and strongly armed travelling-parties. 
 
 The success of his " Karavane " led HaufE 
 to produce two other collections of stories on 
 a similar plan. 
 
 From one of these, " Das Wirtshaus im 
 Spessart," I have extracted and retold in my 
 own way " The Golden Whistle " ; while 
 from the other, " Der Scheik von Alessan- 
 dria," I have borrowed the foundation of 
 the story of " The Wonder Child." 
 
 Hauff's " Marchen," or fairy-tales, were 
 the turning-point in his life, and started him 
 on what promised to be a brilliant career as 
 a writer. 
 
 He gave up his tutorship in 1826, spent 
 some months in travel in order to seek fresh 
 inspiration and materials for work, and settled 
 down at Stuttgart as the editor of a magazine. 
 
 He was married early in 1827, and was 
 
To Donald 
 
 looking forward with happiness and hope to 
 a hfe of busy and prosperous activity, when 
 he was laid low by a nervous fever, of which 
 he died just eleven days before reaching his 
 twenty-fifth birthday. 
 
 The only representation of Wilhelm Hauff 
 that I can discover to give us some idea of 
 what he looked like is the bust, a drawing of 
 which adorns this book. 
 
 It is a pity that we should have nothing less 
 cold, hard, and vacant to help us to revive 
 the image of a man whose work amply proves 
 that he was a gentle, happy spirit, full of 
 mirth and fun and laughter, and all aglow 
 with the warm-hearted, generous impulses of 
 a rich and keenly sensitive nature. 
 
 One word of apology, in conclusion, for 
 " The Rusty Key." It is not HaufE's, but I 
 hope that it may find acceptance as an 
 original contribution in Haufi's manner, 
 though perhaps a long way behind. 
 
 Hauff never knew the real East of the tur- 
 quoise skies, and its glamour of life and colour. 
 But his wonderful genius came very near to 
 suggesting the fascination which inspired a 
 Rudyard Kipling to breathe the longing that 
 sings, " Ship me somewheres east of Suez," 
 or the refrain of that famous "Ballad of East 
 and West." 
 
WILHELM HAUFF. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Caliph Stork - 1 
 
 i. the pedlae and the powder 3 
 
 ii. the mystio word * 10 
 
 in. THE CAPTIVE OWL 17 
 
 iv. the hall op the sorcerers 24 
 
 v. " mutabor !" 31 
 
 The Death Ship 39 
 
 Little Mook 81 
 
 The False Prince 115 
 
 The Golden Whistle ; or, the Fortunes op 
 
 Said 149 
 
 i. the pairy gipt 151 
 
 ii. the bedouin camp 162 
 
 iii. the merchant of bagdad 172 
 
 iv. the handsome crier 183 
 
 V. A night's adventure 195 
 
 vi. the great caliph 204 
 
 The Wonder-Child 223 
 
 i. dame nose 225 
 
 n. the house op enchantment 233 
 
 iii. bewitched - 241 
 
 iv. cook to the kadi 258 
 
 v. the banquet 271 
 
 xiji 
 
Contents 
 
 FAOE 
 
 The Rusty Key - 281 
 
 i. the boy and the stbanoeb 283 
 
 11. the shop nbab the habbottb 292 
 
 in. STOBM AND WRECK - 303 
 
 IV. THE PACKET OP PAPERS - 317 
 
 V. THE GOBGE OP SERVICE - - 328 
 
 XIV 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TO FACE PAGE 
 
 A CAEAVAN IN THE DESERT FrorUispitce 
 
 " THE CALIPH BOtTQHT THE SNUFF-BOX AND DIS- 
 MISSED THE PEDLAE " - - 6 
 
 " I DID NOT HESITATE TO DBINK WHAT THE MAN 
 
 SO HUMBLY OFFERED ME " - - 24 
 
 " OUR ONLY CHANCE OF LIFE WAS TO PROPEL OUB 
 
 CRAFT TOWARDS THIS WRECK " 46 
 
 " WE FASTENED OUR BOAT TO THE QUAY-SIDE " 66 
 
 " TO HIS SURPRISE A TROOP OF CATS AND DOGS 
 
 WAS PRESSING INTO THE GREAT HOUSE " 88 
 
 " HE RUSHED FORWARDS, CLASPING THE GREAT 
 
 chief's KNEES " - - - 130 
 
 " SAlD WAS TENDED AND BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE 
 
 AGAIN BY A CHANCE TRAVELLER " - - 173 
 
 " FOUR MEN OF SELIM'S ROBBER BAND " - - 196 
 
 " THE SUMMER PALACE OF THE CALIPH " 208 
 
 " HE WAS HORRIFIED TO SEE THEY WERE A COUPLE 
 
 OF REPULSIVE CREATURES " - 234 
 
 XV 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 TO FACE PAGE 
 
 " POOR LITTLE WONDEK ! WHAT A HIDEOUS 
 
 SPECTACLE HE PRESENTED " - 252 
 
 " SHE DARED NOT EAT ; SHE DARED NOT SLEEP " - 268 
 
 " ABDTTLRAHMAN WAS PORING OVER A GREAT 
 
 BUNDLE OF PAPERS " - ■ - - 292 
 
 " THROUGH THE RUGGED GORGE " - 330 
 
 XVI 
 
THE PEDLAR AND THE POWDER 
 
 CALIPH CHASID OF BAGDAD was 
 sitting comfortably on his sofa one 
 fine summer afternoon. He had had 
 a good nap, for it had been a hot day, 
 and, being thoroughly refreshed by his little 
 sleep, he was now in the very best of tempers 
 and most pleased with himself. He was 
 smoking a pipe with a long rosewood stem; 
 a slave stood by his side, and was serving him 
 with fragrant coffee, and ever as he sipped his 
 cup, the Caliph would stroke his silky beard 
 as if to show how keenly he was enjoying 
 himself, and how peacefully he was disposed 
 towards all the world. 
 
 His Grand Vizier, Mansor, had learnt by 
 experience that his stern master, the Caliph, 
 was, during the hot weather, at any rate, 
 always in his most genial mood after his 
 midday rest ; in summer he wisely chose 
 
 3 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 the afternoon, therefore, during which to 
 approach the CaHph on affairs of state and 
 importance. 
 
 On this particular afternoon, accordingly, 
 Mansor entered the royal presence as usual, 
 but, curiously enough, and quite contrary to 
 his wont, he looked very grave and thoughtful. 
 
 The Caliph, who was a shrewd man, noticed 
 this at once, and, taking his pipe out of his 
 mouth, he said : 
 
 " Grand Vizier, what is the matter with 
 you ? You are surely uncommonly serious." 
 
 The Grand Vizier folded his arms crosswise 
 over his breast, and bowed deferentially to 
 the ground as he answered : 
 
 " Lord and Master, it grieves me that I 
 should appear sad and dejected before Your 
 Majesty, but as I wended my way hither 
 there stood at your palace gates a pedlar, 
 with such beautiful wares, that I have been 
 dolefully musing ever since how unfortunate 
 it was that I had so little money to spare for 
 chance purchases." 
 
 The Caliph was really very fond of his 
 Grand Vizier, and had, indeed, been thinking 
 for a long time past how he could give his 
 faithful minister a little treat. He was de- 
 lighted, therefore, at this opportunity of 
 testifying to his goodwill for Mansor, and 
 
 4 
 
The Pedlar and the Powder 
 
 promptly despatched his slave to fetch the 
 pedlar into the royal presence. 
 
 The command was quickly obeyed. 
 
 The pedlar was a short, stout man of very 
 dark complexion, and clad in tattered gar- 
 ments. He was carrying a box which con- 
 tained a great variety of things — pearls and 
 rings, richly mounted pistols, goblets and 
 combs. The Caliph and his Vizier examined 
 the whole stock, and the Caliph finally bought 
 the finest of the pistols for himself and Mansor 
 and a pretty comb for the Grand Vizier's 
 wife. 
 
 The pedlar, having sold these things, was 
 about to collect his wares and close his box 
 before taking his departure, when the Caliph 
 chanced to notice a little drawer in the box, 
 and asked whether there were anything 
 special in its hidden recesses. The pedlar pulled 
 the drawer out, and revealed a dainty snuflE- 
 box which contained a blackish kind of 
 powder and a small strip of parchment with 
 peculiar characters, which neither the Caliph 
 nor Mansor could read. 
 
 " Don't you know anything about this ?" 
 the Caliph asked with evident interest. 
 
 " No, Your Majesty ; it came into my 
 possession from a merchant who found it in 
 the streets of Mecca. The thing is of no use 
 
 5 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 to me, and you can have it for whatever yoi 
 like to give me," answered the pedlar. 
 
 The Caliph was rather fond of out-of-the 
 way odds and ends of writing, so he bough 
 the snu£f-box with its contents and dismissec 
 the pedlar. 
 
 When the latter had respectfully bowec 
 himself out, Chasid turned to his Vizier. 
 
 " Mansor," he said, " I am curiously an- 
 xious to discover the secret of these strange 
 characters. Can't you think of anybody ir 
 the whole of my famous capital who coulc 
 decipher this mysterious Avriting for me ?" 
 
 The Grand Vizier knit his eyebrows anc 
 gravely pondered the matter over, for he knevi 
 full well that his master was apt to be exact 
 ing once his curiosity was fairly aroused. 
 
 "Well? ..." the Caliph inquired impa 
 tiently after a long pause. 
 
 " Gracious Lord, I think I can help you,' 
 replied the Grand Vizier, suddenly beaming 
 into a smile. 
 
 " Speak, then !" 
 
 " Close by the Great Mosque there lives i 
 man who is known in Bagdad as Selim th 
 Learned. He is reputed to be skilled in al 
 languages. Send for him. Perchance he wi] 
 be able to satisfy your desire for an explana 
 tion of that quaint writing." 
 
 6 
 

 
 " The Caliph bought the snui(f' 
 boXy wtd dismissed the Pedlar. " 
 
The Pedlar and the Powder 
 
 " Let him be fetched !" was the command. 
 
 Selim the Learned was soon ushered into the 
 dread presence. 
 
 " Selim," the Caliph sternly addressed him 
 — " Selim, I am informed you are a highly 
 educated man. Just examine these characters 
 for me, and tell me if you can decipher them. 
 If you can, you shall receive a new festal robe 
 from me, but if you cannot I shall order you 
 to be smitten twelve times on the cheeks and 
 five-and-twenty times on the soles of your 
 feet, for you will then have proved that you 
 do not deserve to be called Selim the Learned." 
 
 Selim bowed low and answered : . 
 
 " Your will be done, Sovereign Lord and 
 Master." 
 
 Selim took the parchment from the Caliph's 
 hand and examined it long and thoughtfully. 
 Then a light came into his face, and a smile 
 played about his lips. 
 
 " The words, Lord, are Latin," he said 
 with calm assurance. 
 
 " Latin, indeed !" exclaimed the Caliph. 
 " But what do they mean ?" 
 
 " The interpretation is as follows, my Lord 
 and Master," Selim replied, and began to 
 read : 
 
 " Oh, thou man, whosoever thou art who 
 dost find this, praise God for His goodness, 
 
 7 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 and learn that he who snuffs of this powder 
 and utters the word Mutahor may cause 
 himself to be changed into the form of any 
 animal he desires to become, and will under- 
 stand the language of such animal into which 
 he is transformed. As soon as he would be 
 restored to his human shape again, he must 
 bow himself three times to the east and 
 repeat the magic word. Let him beware, 
 however, not to laugh while he is changed, 
 for if he does laugh the mystic word will 
 vanish from his memory and he will remain 
 for ever an animal." 
 
 When Selim had ended, the Caliph ad- 
 dressed him thus : 
 
 " Be the words true or false, Selim, I am 
 satisfied with your explanation of the writing, 
 and I will reward you as I have promised. 
 My chamberlain shall give you a sumptuous 
 garment, but see to it that nothing you 
 know of this matter shall pass your lips. You 
 are dismissed." 
 
 Selim humbly inclined himself to the ground 
 and departed. 
 
 " Well, Mansor, what do you think of my 
 bargain ?" the Caliph asked when he and his 
 Grand Vizier were once more alone. 
 
 " It would seem to be a rare one. Your 
 
 Majesty." 
 
 8 
 
The Pedlar and the Powder 
 
 "Very rare indeed. How would it be if 
 we put this powder to the test ? It would 
 be grand fun to be changed for a time into an 
 animal, and to hear what goes on in a world 
 we know so little about. What do you say 
 to it ?" 
 
 There was so little Mansor dared say, even 
 if he would, that he was forced to pretend 
 that he agreed with his master's rash sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 " Suppose you come round early to-morrow 
 morning, then, and we go for a walk. If we 
 see any creature that specially interests us, 
 we'll just take a snuff of the powder. It 
 may not act, but if Selim has told the truth, 
 just think what it would be to become trans- 
 formed and understand what is being said 
 by the birds or the beasts or the fishes !" 
 
 " There is a danger. Your Majesty," Mansor 
 ventured to remark. 
 
 " Not with you about, my trusty servant. 
 It would take something to make you laugh, 
 I know ; that is why I particularly want your 
 company," the Caliph replied, good naturedly 
 tapping Mansor on the shoulder and conduct- 
 ing him in friendly fashion to the door of the 
 room. 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 II 
 
 THE MYSTIC WORD 
 
 The Caliph was young, excitable, and of an 
 adventurous turn of mind. The thought of 
 the enterprise he had planned for the morrow 
 made him sleep lightly, and he was astir long 
 before his Grand Vizier put in an appearance 
 on the eventful morning. 
 
 " A cup of my coffee, Mansor ; it is of the 
 best, and it will put you in good heart ! 
 Never fear, man ! Selim is at best a humbug, 
 though I affected to treat him as an honest 
 fellow. Come, cheer up !" 
 
 The coffee was really very good, and being 
 further stimulated by the Caliph's joviality 
 and condescension, Mansor soon began to 
 feel easier in mind. When at last all was 
 ready, the two sallied forth alone and un- 
 observed, and wandered into the palace 
 gardens to see what creatures were about at 
 this early hour. 
 
 Search as they would, however, they could 
 espy nothing that promised to afford them 
 any amusement, and they would reluctantly 
 have abandoned their purpose if Mansor, who 
 was now thoroughly infected by his master's 
 
 10 
 
The Mystic Word 
 
 spirit of adventure, had not suddenly hit upon 
 an idea, 
 
 " Your Majesty," he said, " I know of a 
 certain pond without the city where I have 
 observed those quaint birds called storks, and 
 have more than once been struck by their 
 solemnly ridiculous attitudes and the comic 
 clattering of their great beaks. How would 
 it please you if I took you there ?" 
 
 " Excellent ! Let us go at once. We can 
 slip out of the little gate yonder, and no one 
 will notice us." 
 
 The two accordingly hurried away, and were 
 soon outside the city, whence a short walk 
 brought them to the pond Mansor had in- 
 dicated. To their huge delight, a spindle- 
 legged stork was actually strutting staidly 
 up and down by the edge of the water, looking 
 for frogs, and clapping his long beak as though 
 in mumbled conversation with himself. Look- 
 ing upwards, the Caliph and his Vizier could 
 see another stork skimming gracefully towards 
 the pond on outstretched wings. 
 
 " I'll wager my beard, master, those two 
 will soon have something funny to say to 
 one another. Shall we prove Selim's good 
 faith and learning by trying to become storks ?" 
 
 It was the Caliph's turn this time to reflect 
 with caution over the proposal. 
 
 11 
 
Caliph 5tork 
 
 " Let us be careful, Mansor," he remarked. 
 " What have we got to do exactly ?" 
 
 " To snuff the powder and say Mutator. " 
 
 " Yes, that's all very well. That's how I 
 can become a stork," SeHm said. " But I 
 don't want to remain a stork." 
 
 " Then, Your Majesty, you will bow three 
 times towards the east, say Mutabor again, 
 and you will be Caliph, and I shall be Your 
 Majesty's humble servant and Grand 
 Vizier." 
 
 " And the condition ?" 
 
 " No laughing, my Lord." 
 
 " It seems simple enough, and you are the 
 man to be perfectly grave." 
 
 " I hope so ; it is the privilege of my 
 age." 
 
 While they were thus discussing the matter, 
 the stork on the wing fluttered slowly down 
 to earth and was striding ceremoniously 
 towards its companion. 
 
 ' ' Quick, Mansor ! ' ' urged the Caliph. ' ' We 
 must not lose this opportunity of surprising 
 those long legs," and as he spoke he drew the 
 little box of powder out of the folds of his 
 girdle, took a good pinch of it, offered it to 
 the Vizier, who likewise helped himself to a 
 big dose, and both cried in the same breath, 
 " Mutabor r 
 
 12 
 
The Mystic Word 
 
 The word had scarcely passed their lips 
 when their legs shrank up and became thin 
 and reddish ; their beautiful, soft, yellow 
 slippers were changed into the crinkled yellow 
 feet of a stork ; their arms expanded into wings ; 
 their necks suddenly shot out of their 
 shoulders, and soft white feathers covered 
 their birdlike bodies. 
 
 " Upon my soul. Grand Vizier, what an 
 exquisite beak you have got !" said the 
 Caliph, astonished beyond measure by the 
 change that was wrought in his faithful 
 minister. By the holy beard of the Great 
 Prophet," he added, " I can hardly believe 
 my eyes !" 
 
 " My humble and obedient thanks for the 
 compliment," Mansor replied, " but if I may 
 venture to take a liberty with yoUr gracious 
 person under these changed circumstances, 
 will you allow me to congratulate you on your 
 appearance. You are even more handsome 
 as a stork than you were as a Caliph, dread 
 Master. But we are losing time, methinks. 
 Shall we go and listen to our bird-mates there, 
 and discover if we really can understand 
 what they say ?" 
 
 The second stork had meanwhile gravely 
 approached the edge of the pond, and was 
 daintily trimming its feet and preening the 
 
 13 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 feathers of its wings in expectation of being 
 accosted by the first arrival on the scene. 
 
 The two new storks, though somewhat 
 awkward in their movements, hurried as 
 nimbly as they could within earshot, and were 
 fairly astounded at being able to surprise 
 the following dialogue. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Longshanks, I wonder 
 what brings you so early to this meadow ?" 
 
 " Good morning, dear Miss Clatterbill, I 
 was getting a bit of a snack. ' The early bird 
 gathers the worm,' is the one truth that men 
 have ever learnt from our philosophy, eh ? 
 Well, what have you come for ? You like 
 lizards best, I think, but if you can do with a 
 choice bit of a frog's leg, I'm sure it would give 
 me the greatest possible pleasure to snap up 
 a titbit for your breakfast." 
 
 " Many thanks, kind sir. But I have had 
 my little bit of food, and I have really come 
 here this morning on quite a different errand. 
 My father is giving a party to-day ; he has 
 commanded me to dance for the entertain- 
 ment of his guests. I am dreadfully out of 
 practice, though, so I came to this field to 
 try my steps." 
 
 " Well, my dear, I am sure you need fear 
 no disturbance from me, although your 
 father has not done me the honour to number 
 
 14 
 
The Mystic Word 
 
 me among his guests. Practise, by all means ; 
 no one likes to see good dancing better than 
 T do." 
 
 " You shall judge in due course whether it 
 is good or not, but I will do my best," young 
 Miss Clatterbill archly remarked, and, poising 
 herself gracefully on tiptoe, with outstretched 
 wings and elongated neck, she sped round 
 and round the field in the most extraordinary 
 gyrations. 
 
 The Caliph and Mansor, standing discreetly 
 aloof, were astounded at the rapidity of her 
 movements, but when she suddenly came to 
 a dead stop and remained transfixed with 
 one leg tucked up to her body in the most 
 comical of stork attitudes, they both burst 
 out together into a fit of uncontrollable 
 laughter. 
 
 They laughed and laughed till human tears 
 ran down their bird beaks, and it was quite a 
 long time before the Caliph, having recovered 
 his breath, was able to say : 
 
 " Mansor, that's the biggest joke I have 
 ever seen in my life ! Man, it was perfectly 
 screaming, but what a pity those birds were 
 such fools as to be scared by our amuse- 
 ment. I wonder what they would have done 
 next ?" 
 
 " Holy Prophet, Master, what have we 
 15 
 
Caliph 5tork 
 
 done ?" Mansor exclaimed with evident con- 
 sternation. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? Can't you 
 enjoy yourself for once in your solemn, 
 matter-of-fact life and be thankful ?" the 
 Caliph retorted, with a dim perception of the 
 grounds for his Vizier's apprehensions. 
 
 " Did you laugh. Caliph ?" 
 
 " Didn't you ?" 
 
 " I regret it now." 
 
 " Nonsense, man. ..." 
 
 " Stork, I fear." 
 
 " Man, if you like to think ..." 
 
 " Think ! Let me see, how do we 
 think ? . . ." 
 
 " Bow to the east . . ." 
 
 " Three times and say ..." 
 
 " Yes, and say . . ." 
 
 " What do you say ? . . ." 
 
 "Mu. . ." 
 
 "Mu.. ." 
 
 " Mu . . ." 
 
 They bowed and they bowed and they 
 bowed ; they said " Mu . . ." and " Mu . . ." 
 and " Mu ..." till their necks ached and their 
 beaks refused to snap, but they had forgotten 
 the rest of the word, and nothing they coiild 
 do or say would bring it back to their 
 memories. 
 
 16 
 
The Captive Owl 
 
 " Mu . . . Mu . . . Mu . . . !" gasped the 
 Caliph Stork. 
 
 " Mu . . . Mu . . . Mu . . . !" his Stork Vizier 
 sadly responded. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE CAPTIVE OWL 
 
 Who shall describe the feeling of those two 
 miserable and bewitched creatures as they 
 wandered piteously and timidly about in the 
 most lonesome fields they could find ? 
 
 The horror of their woeful plight was 
 aggravated by the pangs of hunger which they 
 suffered, for there was little in the way of 
 fruit or wholesome vegetable in the sohtary 
 haunts they frequented that they could chew 
 with their long beaks, and they had still to 
 acquire an appetite for such dainty but in- 
 digestible titbits as frogs and lizards. 
 
 They had sneaked about in this disconso- 
 late fashion for some days, when the happy 
 idea occurred to them that, shyly though they 
 must shun the company of other storks and 
 birds who might ill-use them as impostors, 
 there was no need for them to hide from men, 
 to whom, as storks, they were sacred and not 
 to be molested. When they had therefore 
 
 17 B 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 exercised their wings sufficiently to make 
 the attempt, they soared upwards at last, 
 and flapped their way to the roofs of 
 Bagdad. 
 
 Perched aloft, they looked down on the 
 familiar streets and open places. How bitterly 
 they rued their unhappy craving for adventure 
 as they watched their fellow-men go in and 
 out in anxious pursuit of their human 
 avocations. 
 
 But as they watched they gradually began 
 to perceive a bustle and commotion that was 
 anything but usual even among so lively a 
 people as the dwellers in Bagdad. Groups 
 began to form at various points in the streets ; 
 frantic gesticulations marked the emphasis 
 of their speech ; there were fear and anger in 
 the words that were spoken, much appealing 
 with outstretched bare arm to the blue sky 
 above, and wherever women and children 
 congregated many wailings of grief and many 
 tears of sorrow. 
 
 " What does it all mean, Mansor ?" asked 
 the Caliph. 
 
 " They are deploring your untimely disap- 
 pearance, Master — and mine, too, perhaps." 
 "Oh, why can't we speak to them ?" 
 " Would they believe you if you could ?" 
 " They would hardly have me for their 
 18 
 
The Captive Owl 
 
 Caliph, I admit, if I really do look like a 
 stork," Chasid replied. 
 
 " You are a stork. Master. . . . But look ! 
 What is going on at the palace ? Let us 
 hasten thither !" 
 
 They flew on, and, settling on the pinnacles 
 of the great entrance-gate of the royal en- 
 closure, they beheld a huge procession pre- 
 ceded by drums and fifes. To their intense 
 amazement they soon perceived a man dressed 
 in a king's mantle and resplendent in jewelled 
 grandeur, setting high on horseback, while a 
 slavish crowd of hired attendants surrounded 
 him, shouting : " Hail, Mirza !" 
 
 " Do you understand why we are storks 
 now ?" Chasid asked, with a vivid recollection 
 of the arch-enemy who had ceaselessly in- 
 trigued against his fair claim to the throne. 
 
 " Kashnur J" muttered the Grand Vizier, 
 for well he knew, as the trusty servant of the 
 rightful heir, the dangerous power that had 
 thus outmatched his own great skill in the 
 affairs of state. 
 
 " Kashnur ... he was that pedlar !" mut- 
 tered the Caliph. But even as he spoke, a 
 hope, faint though it was, in the justice of 
 his cause gleamed in his stout breast. 
 
 " Come," he said, " the crafty wiles of a 
 bad man have been too much for us, but 
 
 19 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 righteousness will prevail if we seek it where 
 alone it may be found. Let us hie to the 
 tomb of the Prophet, he will understand the 
 dire extremity of our phght. Who shall say 
 but what he will give us the clue to that 
 mystic word we have forgotten ?" 
 
 " You have spoken wisely, Master. Let 
 us go and implore the only help that can 
 relieve us in our misery," said Mansor, and 
 forthwith they spread their wings and flew 
 towards Medina. 
 
 But though they flew bravely, they were 
 still very unskilled in the art, and at the end 
 of a few hours, Mansor' s strength began to 
 fail, and his efforts to keep pace with his 
 younger companion began to flag. 
 
 " Alas ! alas !" he groaned at length, " you 
 are going too quickly for me, my Lord. I 
 am old, and I really can go no farther." 
 
 " Cheer up ! cheer up ! I will slacken 
 down. . . ." 
 
 " No, Master, I am utterly worn out and 
 exhausted. Besides, see, it is evening; the 
 night will soon be upon us ; and we should do 
 well to find some shelter for ourselves before 
 it is too dark." 
 
 " Poor Mansor ! I am sorry for you. But 
 you are wise to counsel prudence, and if I 
 see rightly, down there in the vaUey below 
 
 20 
 
The Captive Owl 
 
 us there is a ruined castle which promises 
 to afford us a resting-place for the night." 
 
 The two then descended slowly to the build- 
 ing, which they found to be of imposing size 
 and not so ruinous as they had imagined. 
 Wandering about the rooms and passages, they 
 were remarking on the signs the place bore 
 of having once been a stately and splendid 
 edifice, when Mansor suddenly stopped still. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ?" the Caliph 
 asked, for the Vizier's long neck had shrunk 
 into his shoulders, his wings dropped, and his 
 feathers all became ruffled. 
 
 " Didn't you hear it ?" 
 
 " Hear what ?" 
 
 " Oh, Master, it would be silly enough for 
 a Grand Vizier to say so, how much more 
 therefore for a stork. ..." 
 
 " Well, well !" the Caliph ejaculated im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " This place is haunted !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" 
 
 " I distinctly heard something groaning 
 and sighing." 
 
 The Caliph listened attentively, and sure 
 enough, he, too, heard very uncanny, moan- 
 ing sounds, that seemed to come from a 
 chamber adjoining the passage in which they 
 stood. 
 
 21 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 " How weirdly human ....!" he remarked 
 uneasily. 
 
 " Let us flee, Master ; it is not good for us to 
 linger here !" 
 
 " Flee ! Never !" retorted the Caliph, im- 
 petuously dashing forwards to the room from 
 which the noise seemed to come. The Grand 
 Vizier shot out his beak, and would have 
 seized his master by the body to restrain him 
 from entering the ghostly chamber. But he 
 was too late to do more than pluck a few 
 feathers from the Caliph's wing, for a brave 
 heart beat beneath the form of a stork, that 
 disguised a valiant and noble-minded man. 
 Reminded thus of his own duty faithfully 
 to abide by his Lord through all dangers, the 
 Vizier limped painfully after the Caliph, who, 
 j"eaching the door of the chamber, quickly 
 pushed the crazy latch open, darted in, and 
 then drew back in consternation. 
 
 It was a tumble-down, damp room, spar- 
 ingly lighted by a small, barred window, close 
 by which, just visible in the settling gloom of 
 night, was a great big owl-like creature. 
 For a brief second or two there was a strained 
 pause ; then the uncanny bird came hopping 
 joyfully across the wet, dank floor. 
 
 " Welcome, welcome to me, blessed 
 storks !" the bird almost shrieked, in a human 
 
 22 
 
The Captive Owl 
 
 language that was their own. " Truly was 
 it told me once upon a time that through a 
 stork I should live to know what it was to 
 be happy !" 
 
 The Caliph could scarcely believe such ears 
 as he had ; yet even as a Stork he could be 
 nothing but the most gallant of birds. He 
 therefore brought his thin legs into the most 
 courteous of attitudes, gracefully inclined his 
 long neck, and rephed : 
 
 " Kind Owl, if Owl you are, though from 
 your human speech I would venture to pre- 
 dict a fellow-sufferer in adversity, even as 
 we are. Alas ! that I cannot cheer you with 
 any hope of deliverance, so far as we are 
 concerned, for we, indeed, are the most abject 
 of deluded mortals, as our story shall suffi- 
 ciently convince you." 
 
 " Oh, the joy of your presence !" the Owl 
 repUed. " But speak, speak ; tell me all. 
 Who knows . . . ?" 
 
 The Caliph then narrated in all its details 
 what had befallen him and his trusty servant. 
 
 23 
 
Caliph Stork 
 IV 
 
 THE HALL OF THE SORCERERS 
 
 The Owl listened attentively to every word 
 that Chasid said, and more than once did his 
 moving account of the sorrows he and his 
 friend had undergone bring great tears of 
 pity into the listener's big round eyes. 
 
 When the Caliph at length ceased, the Owl 
 daintily wiped its wet cheeks with its brown, 
 speckled wings, and said : 
 
 " Now hearken, if you will be so kind, to 
 my own sad tale, and you will see that I am 
 even as unhappy as you are. My father is a 
 King in India, and I, his only daughter, am 
 called Lusa. The sorcerer Kashnur, who 
 bewitched you, is the same magician who has 
 cast his fatal spell on me. He came one day 
 to my father, and desired me as a wife for his 
 son Mirza. My father was so enraged at the 
 presumptuous request, that he caused the 
 man to be hurled out of the palace. The 
 wretch swore to be bitterly avenged of the 
 insult that had been done to him, but my 
 father, who knew him to be an ambitious 
 and dangerous man, little imagined the kind 
 of enemy he had offended. 
 
 " One day when I was quite alone and enjoy- 
 24 
 
liMilllltll! 
 
 ii,W/ 
 
 / did not hesitate to drink what 
 the man so Jnunbly qff'ci-cd vie." 
 
The Hall of the Sorcerers 
 
 ing the cool in our garden, what I took to be 
 one of the palace slaves came up, bearing a 
 refreshing-looking iced drink on a salver. 
 Utterly unsuspicious of all harm, and grateful, 
 indeed, for a mark of such thoughtfulness, I 
 did not hesitate to drink what the man so 
 humbly offered me. I had no sooner swal- 
 lowed the first mouthful when, to my horror, 
 I found myself suddenly changed into this 
 gruesome form, and fainted away in an agony 
 of terror. I only came to my senses as the 
 monster, now restored to himself, thrust me 
 into this building. 
 
 " 'You are to remain here,' he hissed with 
 rage into my ears, ' ugly and hateful, shunned 
 alike by man and beast till you die, unless,' 
 and he laughed with withering scorn, ' jou 
 can ever find any creature unnatural enough 
 to ask you of his own will, to be his wife. 
 Thus do I take vengeance on you and your 
 proud father !' 
 
 " Months have gone by since that terrible 
 day. Lonely and sad, I have been haunting 
 this forsaken and ill-reputed building, an 
 abomination to myself and a loathing to 
 others. Nature itself abhors me, for I am 
 not allowed even to look out on her beauty. 
 I am blind by day, and, not being born to 
 this condition, my poor eyes can make little 
 
 25 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 of what they see by night. But for this 
 doubtful light and the contrast your feathers 
 present against the darker walls of this prison 
 cell of mine, I doubt if I should have been 
 able to see you. Can you believe now that 
 my lot is even more to be deplored than 
 yours ; you, at any rate, can enjoy the relief 
 of sight and movement." 
 
 The poor Owl having ended her story, burst 
 into a pitiful flood of tears, which plunged the 
 Caliph into deep thought. 
 
 " Princess Lusa," he said at length, " there 
 would seem to be a mysterious kinship of 
 trial and affliction between our sufferings and 
 yours, but who shall give us the key to this 
 strange riddle ?" 
 
 " I cannot help thinking as you do," the 
 Owl answered, controlling her grief. " Years 
 ago, when I was a mere child, an old gipsy- 
 woman once told my fortune, and she pro- 
 phesied to me that a stork would bring me 
 my greatest happiness. That is why I was so 
 rejoiced to see you appear." 
 
 " How can we serve you. Princess ?" 
 retorted the Caliph. " You know full well 
 that we are more than helpless to relieve our 
 own sad case." 
 
 " There is only one hope, Caliph. At night, 
 when I have been roaming disconsolately 
 
 26 
 
The Hall of the Sorcerers 
 
 among these ruins, I have made one discovery. 
 It is this. In one of the best preserved parts 
 of this castle there is a beautiful hall, and at 
 stated periods that vile Kashnur and a small 
 band of the most dreaded magicians of the 
 east, meet in it to revel and to discuss the 
 mysteries of their craft. I have found a 
 particular place whence their doings may be 
 overlooked and their talk overheard. Again 
 and again I have loitered there, on the chance 
 of benefiting by the indiscretions that food 
 and wine and good company might reveal to 
 me as a way out of my misfortunes. Nothing 
 I have ever seen or heard has as yet served 
 me, but who knows, your own case being so 
 recent, that you might be more fortunate ?" 
 
 " Dearest Princess, do, oh do, tell us when 
 that man comes, and where we can observe 
 and hear him ?" 
 
 " Gladly will I do so, but . . ." 
 
 " Speak, then !" 
 
 " You will not think me ungracious, much 
 as I sympathise with you, but there is one 
 condition." 
 
 " Name it ! Name it !" exclaimed the Caliph, 
 
 " You must consider me. You surely 
 would not leave me to pine here in dismal 
 solitude and woe." 
 
 " Never !" 
 
 27 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 " Then which of you will undertake freely 
 and honourably to offer me your hand and 
 make me your wife ?" 
 
 The condition gave the two storks serious 
 pause. 
 
 " Come, Mansor," the Caliph at last sug- 
 gested. " This is a dehcate question, and I 
 am sure the good Princess will excuse us for a 
 minute while we discuss the matter outside 
 the room in private." 
 
 Both storks courteously bowed themselves 
 out, and, having closed the door behind them, 
 they stood looking at one another for a long 
 time in grim silence. 
 
 " You know, Lord and Master, how faith- 
 fully I have always striven, and will ever 
 strive, to serve you, but you must realise 
 that the present matter is outside the bounds 
 of my ability to be of any use to you," the 
 Grand Vizier ventured at last most respect- 
 fully to say. 
 
 " But you must help me out of this diffi- 
 culty !" the Caliph exclaimed sternly. 
 
 " I am an old man. Master, besides a married 
 one." 
 
 " You will not disobey my commands, 
 Mansor ?" 
 
 " I shall have no choice if you insist on 
 asking me to do what is impossible." 
 
 28 
 
The Hall of the Sorcerers 
 
 " Impossible ! What are you talking 
 about ? I can make it possible !" 
 
 " No, my Lord ; you would not do me and 
 my wife this wrong. In any circumstances, 
 kindly reflect what the conditions of the 
 Princess are. Our release, if haply it may 
 be effected, depends on one of us freely offering 
 the Princess marriage." 
 
 " Hm ! Yes " 
 
 " Could I make the o&ev freely ? You must 
 see, Master, that you alone could honestly 
 undertake this bargain. You are young, you 
 are unmarried, what could be more fitting 
 than that you should give your hand to a 
 King's young and beautiful daughter ?" 
 
 " How do you know she is young and 
 beautiful ?" the Caliph snapped out im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " I shall hope she is both, for your gallant 
 sake. In any case. Master, for me to- pretend 
 even to comply with the condition could be 
 of no use to us, and unless you agree to take 
 the risks, I am afraid we shall have to remain 
 storks." 
 
 It was some time, and not without a good 
 deal of further discussion, before the Caliph 
 finally decided not to throw away the chance 
 of being restored to his human shape. 
 
 " Princess," he said, stepping reverently 
 29 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 into the room again, " pardon our long 
 absence, but I come now to ask you, if you 
 will, to do me the honour and pleasure of 
 becoming my wife ?" 
 
 " My Lord, you are making me the happiest 
 of living creatures ; may you find me worthy 
 of your love and of your exalted station. 
 And now that I am assured of sharing the 
 joy of being transformed into my natural 
 state when that joy is yours, let me lead you 
 to the hall I spoke of. It may be that to- 
 night we shall find those wicked sorcerers 
 assembled." 
 
 Fluttering and flapping with painful efforts, 
 the Owl guided the storks through many 
 intricate turns and windings till they saw a 
 gleam of light shining through a crack in the 
 wall. 
 
 " They are here ! they are here !" the Owl 
 whispered hoarsely. " You must move very 
 quietly and keep very still while I bring you 
 to a place where you can see and hear them 
 distinctly." 
 
 They stole along silently, and soon reached 
 a broken doorway that led on to a gallery 
 overlooking the hall. Gazing down, they 
 were surprised at the splendour of the great 
 room. Many coloured lamps lit up the 
 painted walls and gilded columns, and shed their 
 
 30 
 
"Mutabor!" 
 
 soft light on a round table richly furnished 
 with beautiful plate and laden with choice 
 and costly meats. Reclining on a luxurious 
 couch that encircled the table were eight 
 elderly men. The storks quickly picked out 
 the form and features of that cunning pedlar 
 who had sold them the magic powder. Even 
 as they watched him, his neighbour ad- 
 dressed him in a loud voice, and bade him 
 relate how the treacherous act he had evidently 
 previously undertaken to perform on Caliph 
 Chasid, had succeeded. 
 
 " MUTABOR !" 
 
 The attention of the whole party was imme- 
 diately centred on Kashnur. 
 
 " My friends," he said, with a wicked smile 
 on his crafty face, " I am avenged !" 
 
 " Indeed !" they all exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, the grudge I have cherished for so 
 long against the House of Chasid is fed and 
 satisfied ; and my son is now reigning on the 
 throne of Bagdad." 
 
 " You wonderful magician ! Well may we 
 acclaim you as our chief !" 
 
 31 
 
Caliph 5tork 
 
 " You do me great honour, brothers of the 
 mystic arts and hidden secrets of magic. If 
 I can pretend in any way to deserve the rank 
 you award me, it is in the skill I have ac- 
 qtiired by study and practice of transforming 
 men into beasts," 
 
 " We had better look to ourselves with 
 Kashnur," waggishly remarked the youngest 
 of the eight. 
 
 " By Mahound, yes ; but into what did you 
 change that fastidious, handsome, and popular 
 coxcomb of a Chasid ?" inquired another. 
 " Guess, if you can ?" said Kashnur. 
 " We give it up," they replied after a pause. 
 " Why, into a stork, of course !" 
 They all laughed uproariously, and agreed 
 that no other bird could have suited the 
 character of the Caliph better. 
 
 " And, what's more," Kashnur continued, 
 " as luck would have it, I caught that shrewd 
 old rascal of a Mansor in the same trap. I 
 should somehow or other have had to deal 
 with that loyal pillar and support of the 
 Chasid dynasty, but the silly old thing fairly 
 sold himself into my power." 
 
 " Good ! good ! Fancy Mansor a stork ! 
 But how did you do it, Kashnur ?" 
 
 " One of my choice powders and a pretty 
 stiff Latin word." 
 
 32 
 
"Mutabor !" 
 
 "Latin this time; that was cunning -of 
 you. What was the word ?" 
 
 " MUTABOR !" 
 
 The storks did not wait to hear the rest of 
 the conversation. They dashed out into the 
 passage, fluttered and scrambled as best they 
 could into the open air, bowed themselves 
 thrice to the east, and cried : 
 
 " MuTABOR !" 
 
 The poor Owl had the greatest difficulty in 
 keeping pace with them, but with many hurts 
 and bruises she just managed to be on the 
 scene when that forgotten word suddenly 
 worked the long-sought-for miracle on her 
 companions in distress. 
 
 " Saviour of my life and of the life of my 
 best friend, where are you ?" cried the 
 Caliph, in all the gratitude of his warm and 
 generous heart, when he found himself and 
 Mansor restored to their natural shape, and 
 remembered with contrition that he had 
 never given a moment's thought to the 
 Owl. 
 
 " I am here, my Lord !" 
 
 The Cahph turned round in eager haste. 
 The loveliest of women stood before him to 
 dazzle his eyes and enrapture his soul. 
 
 " Were you an Owl just now ?" he asked, 
 with bated breath. 
 
 33 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 " I was that hideous creature," she coyly 
 rephed. 
 
 " Take my hand, sweet lady, and with it 
 all my heart. I would have honestly offered 
 you both for the happiness you have given 
 me. To offer you either, now that I can 
 appreciate your exquisite charms, would be 
 presumptuous, unless I dared to hope that 
 you would accept me for your husband." 
 
 The fair Princess would, indeed, have been 
 hard to please if the comely and courteous 
 young Caliph had not instantly ingratiated 
 himself in her esteem and affections. 
 
 It was difficult at first for the three to 
 resume their ordinary human gait and ease 
 of movement. The Princess, who had suffered 
 longer than her companions in aflfiiction, and 
 was besides the weakest by nature, required 
 much support and care on the long and tedious 
 return journey to Bagdad. But the far road 
 through dreary and desolate regions was at 
 last happily accomplished. 
 
 The crowds that were gathered about the 
 chief gate of Bagdad, as was their wont on a 
 fine summer evening when the first cool 
 breezes tempted them out of their homes, 
 could scarcely believe their senses at the 
 sight of their weU-beloved young sovereign 
 calmly entering his capital. No sooner had 
 
 34 
 
" MutaborM" 
 
 they recovered from their astonishment than 
 they thronged round him, threw themselves 
 at his feet, and asked in wonder and amaze- 
 ment if it really was he, their dear Caliph, 
 who appeared before them. 
 
 " They said you were dead, great Master, 
 and persuaded us to elect Mizra, that offspring 
 of a hated line, in your stead." 
 
 " Show, then, how you love me by storming 
 the palace and securing the traitor !" 
 
 In an instant there was an eager rush of 
 thousands — men, women, and children — to 
 the palace. The guards threw down their 
 arms on hearing the glad news of Chasid's 
 return to claim his throne, and when the 
 Caliph appeared in person on the scene, the 
 wretched, trembling Mizra was presented 
 captive before him. 
 
 " Hapless creature !" said Caliph Chasid, 
 " if it were your own treachery that had done 
 this, my loyal subjects should have torn you 
 limb from limb. That fate awaits your thrice 
 wicked father, Kashnur. As for you " — and 
 the Caliph felt in his girdle for the little box 
 of powder — " sniff this and be a stork. If 
 you ever return to your human form must 
 depend upon your meek conduct and on my 
 forgetfulnessof the treasonable part your weak- 
 ness allowed you to play in this sorry business." 
 
 35 
 
Caliph Stork 
 
 Quaking in every limb, Mizra snuflEed the 
 black powder, and at the word of the Caliph, 
 to the wondering eyes of all beholders, the 
 luckless usurper became a stork. 
 
 The story of what had really befallen Chasid 
 and Mansor soon spread like wildfire in the 
 city. That very night an angry crowd sur- 
 prised the ruined castle in the desert, and, 
 storming it on all sides, they battered the last 
 remnants of its decayed splendour into a heap, 
 and burnt it and the eight old Sorcerers with 
 fire. 
 
 Caliph Chasid and his good Vizier lived 
 many a happy year after their great adven- 
 ture. " My Lady Night-Owl," as the Caliph 
 affectionately called her, proved the sweetest 
 of wives, and her royal father, whose Indian 
 dominions adjoined those of the Caliph, made 
 frequent visits to Bagdad, to the great 
 delight of its loyal populace, and also to their 
 great benefit as regards trade and the wealth 
 that follows in its train. 
 
 As the CaHph and Mansor grew older, the 
 cares of state and the burden of life con- 
 stantly weighed more heavily on their minds, 
 but there was one relaxation that never 
 ceased to provoke them into a riotously 
 hilarious mood, and that was to " play stork " 
 
 36 
 
"Mutabor!" 
 
 again, and imitate the comic seriousness with 
 which they strained their necks to breaking- 
 point and vainly cried " Mu . . . Mu . . . 
 Mu . . . !" 
 
 The Calipha Lusa and her children were 
 never tired of seeing that performance, but 
 whenever Chasid overdid it, Mansor had only 
 to whisper that he would betray to the 
 gracious lady how nearly she had been 
 doomed to be his own wife, for the Caliph 
 to desist from being too frivolous. 
 
 37 
 
DeafThyohip 
 
THE DEATH SHIP 
 
 MY father was a small shopkeeper at 
 Balsora. He was not a poor man, 
 yet he might well have been a richer 
 man than he was if he had been of a less 
 cautious disposition in matters of business. 
 He brought me up according to his own 
 simple and honest notions of what a son 
 should be, and trained me carefully in his 
 own methods of managing and conducting the 
 affairs of his shop. 
 
 My Life, on the whole, was somewhat 
 monotonous and uneventful till I reached 
 the age of eighteen, when my father began 
 to pine, then became seriously ill, and died. 
 Called thus suddenly to a position of import- 
 ance and responsibility, no sooner did I 
 recover from my grief at the loss of my 
 parent, than I began to investigate the condi- 
 tion in which he had left me. I discovered 
 to my great surprise that, owing to a general 
 
 41 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 slackness of trade, my poor father had of late 
 been venturing on some bold speculations, 
 that he had been losing money in his attempts 
 to retrieve his fortunes, and that my pros- 
 pects in life were neither as safe nor as good 
 as I had been led to believe. 
 
 Though worry rather than disease, as I now 
 realised, had killed my over anxious father, 
 I was young and ardent enough not to be dis- 
 mayed by the situation that confronted me. 
 I quickly calculated that if I sold up my 
 stock-in-trade I should have money enough 
 not only to satisfy my youthful ambition for 
 adventure, which had been sadly restricted 
 hitherto, but also to enable me to try my 
 fortunes in less narrow and well-beaten paths 
 than Balsora was ever likely to afford. 
 
 My anticipations were more than justified 
 by the success of my sale. The shop was 
 speedily cleared of its contents, and the only 
 thing, if thing it might be called, that was 
 left to me after the disposal of all my good 
 father's belongings, was his old and trusty 
 slave Ibrahim ; to have sold him, devoted as 
 he was to me, would have been the crime of 
 my life. 
 
 Poor Ibrahim shook his head rather ruefully 
 when I discussed my plans and projects with 
 him, but, although I offered to release him 
 
 42 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 from his attachment to my person, his loyalty 
 was not to be curbed by such qualms as he 
 naturally felt at the prospect of roaming 
 about the world at his age and encountering 
 dangers and difficulties. 
 
 In due course, therefore, we found a ship 
 in the harbour of Balsora that was bound for 
 India ; and on it we embarked in what 
 promised to be most favourable weather. We 
 had been on board for a fortnight, had cleared 
 the Persian Gulf, and were standing out to 
 sea, when signs of a storm began to gather 
 about the horizon. The Captain was visibly 
 disturbed by these untoward indications. 
 He was at best a rather nervous man, and 
 being besides young and inexperienced, he 
 could not but view the chances of bad weather 
 in these open and dangerous waters with 
 some concern. The sails being reefed and 
 all possible precautions being taken, we 
 drifted along slowly till nightfall, when the 
 sky seemed to be clearing and we were all 
 beginning to hope that we had been deceived 
 in our forebodings. 
 
 Suddenly, emerging as it were from no- 
 where, a big ship loomed up before our 
 astonished gaze, and came sailing past us. 
 Wild shouts mingled with angry shrieks and 
 drunken yells of scorn and laughter re- 
 
 43 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 sounded from the deck and hold, filling us all 
 with a horrible sense of terror and dismay. 
 Turning for some information about this strange 
 vessel to the captain, by whose side I was 
 standing, I saw that he was livid with fright 
 and trembling in every limb. 
 
 " My ship is lost !" he exclaimed in despair- 
 ing accents. 
 
 " Lost ! How so ?" I inquired. 
 
 " Don't you know ? That was the Death 
 Ship !" 
 
 " The Death Ship . . . ?" I began, seeking 
 for information, but before I could say any 
 more, the crew came rushing on the scene 
 howling and crjdng : 
 
 " You have seen it ! You have seen it ! 
 We are lost ! We are lost !" 
 
 The panic of his men seemed to nerve the 
 captain. 
 
 " My children, let us ask Allah to help us !" 
 he said, and, taking charge of the helm 
 himself, he began to recite prayers from the 
 Koran, and urged the sailors to add their 
 fervent supplications to his. 
 
 But it was all in vain. The sky had in the 
 meanwhile become overcast ; the wind, which 
 had been moaning sullenly in the rigging, 
 began to roar with hurricane force ; the waves 
 grew higher and higher, tossing and tumbling 
 
 44 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 us helplessly up and down and hither and 
 thither ; and then, as if maddened at last that 
 we should so long have withstood their fury, 
 they hurled themselves at us with such 
 tremendous blows that our poor ship shivered 
 and groaned in every timber, and was smashed 
 to pieces. 
 
 Beggared of all I possessed in the world, 
 I was flung headlong into the raging sea. 
 Agonised cries of drowning men pierced the 
 furious uproar of the elements. In a frenzied 
 effort to delay the horrible fate that awaited 
 me, I seized hold of some wreckage that 
 floated within my reach, and clung to it with 
 the grim tenacity of despair, but my eyes 
 were soon blinded by the salt spray ; with every 
 gasp for breath I swallowed gulps of sea- 
 water ; my senses began to reel, and I swooned 
 away. 
 
 It was morning when I came to, and I was 
 in the arms of my faithful Ibrahim. I seemed 
 to remember all at once that he had been near 
 me on the deck during the last moments of 
 our supreme trial, and that it was with his 
 arm round me that I had been cast adrift 
 in the tempest. He had hold of me still, and 
 both of us were rocking, submerged to our 
 chests, on the keel of an upturned boat. 
 
 The storm had abated, and the sea was 
 45 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 calm but for the angry swell that heaved its 
 tired bosom. 
 
 " Allah be praised, master !" cried Ibrahim, 
 when he was satisfied that I was still living. 
 
 "If I am aUve, my first thanks are due 
 to you," I replied. 
 
 " Give Allah the glory, my son, for he alone 
 decrees the issues of Life and death," rejoined 
 the pious old man, in all humility and sincerity 
 of heart. 
 
 As we rose and fell on the restless expanse 
 of waters, we could see nothing of our own 
 ship or of the many poor souls who had shared 
 our cruel fate ; but not very far away from us, 
 rocking aimlessly on the deep, was a derelict, 
 a miserable victim, so we surmised, of the 
 awful tempest that had so suddenly overtaken 
 us. 
 
 Of land there was no sign, in whatever direc- 
 tion we looked. Our only chance of life, 
 therefore, was to propel our crazy craft 
 towards this wreck that had so marvellously 
 survived complete destruction. 
 
 We kicked out with our legs and shoved 
 our boat along nearer and ever nearer to the 
 forlorn vessel, but a weird fear began to 
 possess us the more closely we approached it. 
 It was a big felucca (or trading-ship), and its 
 general lines and rig reminded us forcibly of 
 
 46 
 
"Our only chance of life was to 
 propel (mrj:rafi U'March ike wreck." 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 that mysterious harbinger of woe that had 
 sailed up from nowhere and dashed past us 
 before the outburst of the storm. We tried 
 to comfort one another that we might after 
 all be mistaken, and hoped to the last that 
 some human form, hearing our shouts for 
 help, would appear and gladden us with an 
 answering voice. 
 
 But no ; the ship was deserted, and we 
 managed at last to paddle up to a cable that 
 hung from its bows. Again and again we 
 called as we clung to the rope, but all in vain. 
 An uncanny silence brooded over the vessel. 
 
 " What shall we do, Ibrahim ?" I asked 
 nervously. 
 
 " There is little choice left us, master. We 
 must either get on board this ship or drown." 
 
 Never did life seem to mie to be sweeter 
 than at that moment, and, clutching the rope 
 firmly, I scrambled with painful effort on to 
 the vessel. My first care then was to help 
 Ibrahim to join me. The old man was quite 
 exhausted when I dragged him at length over 
 the ship's side. 
 
 When he was safe, and both of us somewhat 
 recovered from our exertions, we were able to 
 turn our attentions to our surroundings. 
 
 But, oh horror ! what a gruesome sight it 
 was that presented itself to our terrified gaze 
 
 47 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 as we stood on the fore-peak and looked down 
 on the deck ! The boards of the ship were 
 strewn with the corpses of some thirty sea- 
 men in Turkish garb, all slashed about and 
 mutilated, and lying in the ghastly postures 
 of their death-throes. Fearful as this sight 
 was to look at, it was less awful than the 
 soHtary figure standing upright by the main- 
 mast. He was a taU, stern-looking man, 
 richly clad, and holding a gleaming sword in 
 his right hand. We expected at every 
 moment to be challenged by him, but as we 
 looked we noted the livid pallor of his face, 
 and the rigid attitude in which he stood. He 
 was transfixed to the mast by a great nail 
 through his forehead ! 
 
 Who shall describe the agony of mind with 
 which we ventured at last to grope our way 
 cautiously on to the main deck and past those 
 awful spectres ? 
 
 At every step we took we dreaded to see 
 that formidable - looking Captain turn his 
 wrathful eyes upon us, or one of those many 
 murdered men raise his head to dispute our 
 right of trespass, but they were dead, every 
 single man of them. We two and the ever- 
 restless sea were the only living things in this 
 world of horrors. 
 
 We had thus reached the hatchway that 
 48 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 would admit us to the hold. Involuntarily 
 we both hesitated, for neither of us dared at 
 once to acknowledge what each of us secretly 
 feared. 
 
 Ibrahim was the first to speak. 
 " Master," he said, with studied delibera- 
 tion, " something dreadful has happened here ; 
 but for good or ill we are where we are, and 
 what we may chance to see below must of a 
 surety be less appalling than the terrible 
 spectacle we have witnessed on this deck. 
 You were the first to bring me here. May 
 the Great Prophet stand by me, I will lead 
 you below !" 
 
 I was not sorry to mark the old man's 
 spirit. Such courage was hopeful, and I fol- 
 lowed him down the companion ladder with 
 an easier heart than I had yet felt. 
 
 A deathlike silence greeted our steps. We 
 put our ears to the cabin-door, but there was 
 no sound to arrest us. With quaking hearts 
 we turned the handle, to see a most extra- 
 ordinary sight. The whole place was turned 
 topsy-turvy. Clothes of various kinds and 
 weapons of all sorts were lying about ; glasses 
 and decanters were strewn about the table. 
 The crew and the Captain must have been 
 holding high revel when the catastrophe that 
 ended their existence had taken place. 
 
 49 D 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 We passed out into the hold. The ship was 
 crammed with supplies and merchandise of 
 every kind. There was a goodly store, too, 
 of valuables, jewellery, precious stones, and 
 pearls. 
 
 Dazzled by the sight of this great wealth, 
 which now was mine, I was young and 
 eager enough to forget for the moment what 
 we had seen on deck and how I had come 
 by it. 
 
 " Why so solemn, Ibrahim ?" I asked, 
 noticing how sadly my faithful servant re- 
 garded my joy. 
 
 " Of what avail are all these riches, master ?" 
 How will you barter them on the high seas, 
 and how will you appease the shades of those 
 dread spectres above us ?" 
 
 These words gave me pause, but though 
 wisdom comes with age, youth has its privi- 
 leges. 
 
 " Let us be rid of our soaked raiment first 
 of all," I rejoined, picking up some clothing. 
 " Here is something that will fit you. Put it 
 on, while I rummage about to find a- garment 
 or two for myself, and then we will eat and 
 drink. I am pretty well famished. Wet and 
 hungry men are in no condition to be reason- 
 able." : - 
 
 Ibrahim sagely agreed that I was fight for 
 50 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 once, and it was with a better heart that he 
 followed me in due course on deck. 
 
 More comfortable in dry clothes, and very 
 much more comforted after a good repast, we 
 had made up a pleasant little scheme of 
 ridding ourselves of the gruesome corpses on 
 board. It would be easy enough, we thought, 
 to hurl them into the sea one after the other. 
 It was a sickening business to be once more 
 amid that scene of horror on deck, but you 
 may judge of our awe-stricken feelings when 
 we discovered that no power within us, tug 
 and pull and strain as we would, could avail 
 to shift any single body from its rigid contact 
 with the deck. From the Captain at the 
 mast down to the meanest sailor every one 
 of these dreadful men was rooted, spellbound 
 as it were, to the spot ! 
 
 It would be difficult indeed to describe the 
 condition of mind in which we spent the rest 
 of that terrible day in this welter of crime 
 and death. There was only one way in which 
 we could have put an end to our agony of 
 soul, but neither of us would be the first to 
 plunge overboard and risk the chance of being 
 saved again ffom mortal peril. 
 
 As time wore on, and my senses became 
 blunted to the horrors about us, I was glad 
 of the gathering darkness, and having accom- 
 
 61 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 panied Ibrahim below, we refreshed ourselves 
 once more with food and drink. The old man 
 was very worn out and tired, and even as we 
 sat and talked in the settling gloom of night 
 he nodded off repeatedly. 
 
 " Lie down and stretch yourself out," I 
 bade him at length ; and fain to yield to my 
 advice, he did so, and was soon wrapped in 
 the deepest slumber. 
 
 I watched by his side in the cabin for an 
 hour or two, and, having convinced myself 
 that he was fast asleep, I stole up on deck to 
 look at the night and the weather. 
 
 Remembering that the fore-peak was un- 
 encumbered by those ghastly corpses, I 
 stealthily picked my way thither. The sea 
 was still troubled, but the sky was clear and 
 jewelled with myriads of stars. 
 
 It must have been about eleven o'clock — I 
 judged in my ignorant way by the general 
 look of things — and after standing about for 
 a space of time till the fresh night-breeze 
 began to penetrate to my skin, I sat down 
 between a great coil of cordage and a pile of 
 casks to watch in comparative comfort, as I 
 hoped, for the first gleams of dawn. 
 
 But I was more exhausted than I had 
 imagined, for, once in repose, and protected 
 from the shrewd wind, I was gradually over- 
 
 62 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 come by an irresistible desire to close my eyes. 
 To sleep, I would say if I truthfully could, but 
 it was a strange kind of stupefaction rather 
 than the blissful gift of sleep which gained no 
 my weary senses, for I could distinctly hear 
 the waves lapping at the ship's sides and the 
 wind lisping in the swaying and creaking 
 rigging. 
 
 Curiously enough, as I listened with- that 
 vivid yet unreal tension of nerve so charac- 
 teristic of dreamland, I could hear the sound 
 of human voices and human footsteps. It 
 woxdd have seemed as if the whole ship had 
 suddenly become alive and manned by a 
 joyous crew, busily racing up and down the 
 main deck, adjusting spars, setting sails and 
 trimming the vessel in obedience to the com- 
 mands and directions of a stern voice that 
 rose ever and again above the hubbub of 
 shout and song. 
 
 Such consciousness as I had, however, soon 
 forsook me. In a terrible tumult and clash 
 of arms I dropped off into mere oblivion, and 
 when I came to myself at last the sun was 
 high in the heavens and scorching down on 
 me with its fierce rays. 
 
 I rubbed my eyes and looked about me in 
 bewilderment ; then bit by bit I collected my 
 scattered senses, rose to my feet, and was soon 
 
 53 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 gazing down once more on that horrible scene 
 of carnage that had so appalled me on the 
 day before — with this difference, however, 
 that the gruesome spectacle afforded me some 
 slight relief of mind. I could only have been 
 dreaming, and I hurried below to see how my 
 poor old servant had fared. 
 
 I found Ibrahim sitting in a dazed condition 
 in the cabin. 
 
 " Oh, master !" he exclaimed in a choking 
 voice, when his troubled eyes at last realised 
 who I was. 
 
 " Well, man, what ?" 
 
 "Let us agree to die, for I would sooner 
 be lying in the deepest depths of the sea than 
 spend another night on this terrible haunted 
 ship." 
 
 " Nonsense, Ibrahim ! You and I were 
 worn-out by our experiences and sufferings. 
 We were both a ready prey to all the horrors 
 that affrighted imagination conjures forth to 
 disturb the sleep of tired men." 
 
 " No, no," he retorted violently ; " the 
 terrors of the night were far too real to allow 
 me to deceive myself. I don't know how 
 long I had been sleeping, but I was gradually 
 aroused to wakefulness by the noise of 
 footsteps overhead. Thinking it might be 
 you, I would have dosed off again, when 
 
 54 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 I distinctly heard the sound of many 
 
 voices ..." 
 
 " Ha, ha !" I laughed, with an affectation 
 
 of gaiety ; " only my silly dream under altered 
 
 circumstances." 
 
 " Patience, master ! Uncanny thoughts 
 
 were far enough away from my mind, and I 
 
 would have composed myself for another good 
 
 sleep, when I heard heavy steps descending 
 the companion ladder out there. For a space 
 of time — how long or how short it was I do 
 not know — I was stunned, as it were ; but, 
 looking up again from where I lay, I saw the 
 man transfixed to the mast sitting at that 
 table, drinking and bawling at the top of his 
 voice, and he had for his companion that 
 other man in a scarlet dress who is Ijdng at 
 his feet on the deck above." 
 
 You may imagine with what emotions of 
 terror and dismay I listened to the old man's 
 words. I had not been dreaming, then. Those 
 murdered men had really been astir during 
 the midnight hours, and this terrible ship was 
 haunted. 
 
 " Must we trust ourselves to the cruel sea, 
 to live or die as Allah shall decree ?" I asked, 
 after a long pause. 
 
 " There's nothing for it, unless my grand- 
 father, who was a man of many strange ex- 
 
 55 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 periences after his world-wide travels, was 
 right . . ." 
 
 " And what did he tell you ?" I inquired 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I can remember a little verse he used to 
 quote, which he maintained to be most effec- 
 tive against spells, witchcraft, and super- 
 natural visitations of all kinds ..." 
 
 " We can but try it for one night more, at 
 least !" I exclaimed. 
 
 " We can, my son, but I will only consent 
 to the experiment if you promise to remain 
 by my side, and exhort me to fervent prayer, 
 so that I may resist the desire to sleep." 
 
 " I promise not to leave you if you, too, 
 will undertake to keep me awake." 
 
 " We must not remain in this cabin, though. 
 Let us investigate the hold." 
 
 We examined the interior of the ship 
 thoroughly. Nowhere below deck did we find 
 any corpse or any sign of blood or violence. 
 Satisfied on that score, we decided to post 
 ourselves in a small compartment immedi- 
 ately adjoining the Captain's cabin. It was 
 an empty space, and whatever the use for 
 which it was intended, there was nothing in 
 or about it which seemed likely to lead to its 
 being invaded. We took the precaution of 
 boring several holes into the partition that 
 
 56 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 divided it from the cabin, so that we might, 
 if we could, command a view of what hap- 
 pened there at the witching hour, and then, 
 fortifying ourselves with meat and drink, we 
 awaited the great ordeal. 
 
 As the day wore to its close, our hopes and 
 our courage visibly ebbed. But we had gone 
 too far to draw back, and however they may 
 be divided in all other respects, I was to learn 
 once and for all that Youth and Age were 
 never so fully agreed as on the principle that 
 while there was Life there was Hope. 
 
 When it was dark enough to frighten us 
 both, we finally retreated to our hiding-place 
 and point of vantage, and, having securely 
 barred and bolted ourselves in, we determined 
 with a desperate access of bravery to defy the 
 worst that could betide. 
 
 It must have been about eleven o'clock 
 when a strange drowsiness began to steal upon 
 us, and Ibrahim admonished me in whispers 
 to join with him in reciting passages from 
 our holy book, the Koran. We were en- 
 gaged with fervour in these pious duties 
 till we were suddenly startled by the sounds 
 of movement above us. Heavy steps be- 
 strode the deck, ropes and pulleys began to 
 strain and creak as if sails were being hoisted. 
 Gradually, too, human voices became audible 
 
 57 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 amid the ever-increasing noise and commotion 
 of a ship that was putting out to sea in a stiff 
 gale of wind. To our horror, as we listened 
 with bated breath and thumping hearts, there 
 were footfalls on the companion ladder, and 
 Ibrahim began to drone the magic words his 
 grandfather had taught him : 
 
 " Spirits of heaven, or hell, or earth. 
 Where'er you come, whate'er your birth, 
 Know well that Allah is your lord. 
 And rest obedient to his word. 
 Hurt not nor with your powers dismay 
 The creatures frail who to him pray." 
 
 I must confess that, having once heard this 
 somewhat trivial adjuration, the hairs of my 
 head stood on end when I peered through one 
 of the holes we had bored into the cabin, and 
 saw the door of the latter violently flung open. 
 In stepped that tall commanding figure I 
 had seen nailed to the mast overhead. The 
 cruel nail was still protruding from his fore- 
 head, but his sword was sheathed, and as he 
 advanced I became aware of the figure in a 
 scarlet robe that followed him. The Captain 
 — for it was clear by his general demeanour 
 that he was nothing less — was deathly pale, 
 and his eyes were rolling wildly. Not for a 
 moment did our close presence cause him to 
 pau ::e or hesitate. He walked straight into 
 
 58 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 the cabin, evidently in a highly overwrought 
 mood, flung himself on to a seat, and vehe- 
 mently upbraided the individual who accom- 
 panied him in a language I could not com- 
 prehend. They drank as they talked and 
 shrieked at one another, while the din over- 
 head became ever more fierce and continuous. 
 Then the Captain brought his fist down on 
 the table, so that every glass and bottle on it 
 rang, ahd, bursting into a wild laugh, he un- 
 sheathed his sword and dashed madly out of 
 the cabin, closely pursued by his companion, 
 who likewise drew his sword as he staggered 
 after his leader. 
 
 We breathed more freely when the two 
 men had gone, but our mental anguish was 
 far from being at an end. Ever louder and 
 louder grew the noise on the deck — shouts 
 and laughter, yells and groans, accompanied 
 the stampings of many feet ; then it seemed 
 as if all the demons of hell had been let loose 
 on a frenzied errand to batter the ship to 
 pieces in their most fiendish rage. 
 
 All of a sudden, and just at the moment 
 when Ibrahim and I, harassed beyond all 
 human powers of endurance, collapsed in our 
 confined retreat, everything became still. 
 
 It was not till daybreak that we dared to 
 drag ourselves, absolutely exhausted, on to the 
 
 59 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 deck, only to gaze again with undiminished 
 horror at the dreadful spectacle of those 
 corpses bound fast as they lay in their agonised 
 death-throes to the planks beneath them. 
 
 Our one consolation under the terrible cir- 
 cumstances in which we found ourselves was 
 that for two nights we had been spared alive 
 and in our rational senses on this haunted 
 ship. 
 
 We mused in long and thoughtful silence 
 over the matter. Awful as our situation 
 was, the strange Fate that had guided us into 
 it, and the marvellous manner in which we 
 had been preserved, appealed no less strongly 
 to the more mature and sage mind of my old 
 Ibrahim than to my own more ardent youthful 
 imagination. 
 
 " We have had a horrible experience, 
 master !" Ibrahim at length ventured to 
 remark, after long and grave reflection. 
 
 " Yes, horrible indeed, if one word can 
 possibly describe it." 
 
 " We might, in our own misguided human 
 way of ending all our troubles, end our suffer- 
 ings by jumping overboard." 
 
 I looked at him closely, but waited for him 
 to speak. 
 
 " You say nothing," he continued. " Per- 
 haps, like myself, you are meditating on the 
 
 60 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 example this ship affords us of the dangers that 
 await mankind from a violent end." 
 
 " Go on ; you can see further than I do, 
 Ibrahim," I replied, after a pause, much 
 struck by his words. 
 
 " Providence has a purpose, and, old as I 
 am, I have no mind to thwart it with delibera- 
 tion," he pursued ; and then, bending an 
 eager eye on me : " Can you face another 
 night ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes, and more than one night, if you are 
 prepared to meet the terrors we may have to 
 endure with hope and courage." 
 
 " It has occurred to me, since we have been 
 up here, and I have looked about, that we 
 seem to be exactly in the same place as we 
 were in when we first got on board this , en- 
 chanted vessel, and yet the sails are set and 
 we are clearly drifting eastward in the light 
 breeze." 
 
 The rapid observations I made as he spoke 
 confirmed the justice of Ibrahim's impres- 
 sions. 
 
 " A great gale was blowing when that 
 devilish crew revived in the midnight 
 watches," the old man continued. 
 
 " We were certainly pitching and tossing 
 in the most alarming manner." 
 
 " Exactly. How comes it, then, that if 
 61 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 his ship is day by day being borne eastward, 
 nd night by night driven before a storm, it 
 lever reaches land of some kind ?" 
 
 " The riddle admits of only one solution," 
 
 replied, after some consideration. " The 
 lOurs and hours we take to drift in one 
 irection are counterbalanced by the minutes 
 uring which those creatures, reanimated for 
 ■ short spell, and assisted by a hurricane, 
 rive the ship back on its course to this region 
 f desolate isolation." 
 
 " And woe to the unhappy vessel which 
 hances to stray, either by dire misfortune or 
 ick of skill, as our poor craft did, into the 
 anger zone of storm and tempest that ac- 
 ompanies the nightly wanderings of this 
 .ccursed terror of the deep !" 
 
 The calm assurance with which the old 
 aan spoke, and the wisdom of his remarks, 
 ould not fail to have an effect upon me. 
 
 " What do you propose we should do, 
 hen ?" I eagerly asked. 
 
 " Well, master," he replied in his meek and 
 eferential way, " it seems to me that if we 
 ould only control those sails there might be 
 ome hope for us. But they are great and 
 eavy, and I am too old and feeble to help 
 ou to lower or raise them. We might, how- 
 vet, gradually furl them. It will be a long 
 
 ja2 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 and difficult job, but it is worth trying, and 
 in order that no impious hands may undo 
 our labours, we will inscribe on our work as 
 we complete it that Name which can alone 
 defy the powers of hell and darkness. What 
 do you say ? We can but make the attempt, 
 master, and see what happens." 
 
 I agreed to the experiment, but, unskilled 
 as we were in handling ropes and tackle, it 
 was night before we had hauled in half the 
 mainsail, which Ibrahim proceeded to bind 
 about with strips of parchment he had dis- 
 covered in the hull, whereon he had cunningly 
 indited the supreme titles of the Great 
 Allah. 
 
 Beating a hasty retreat to our hiding-place, 
 we awaited events with fevered pulses. It 
 would be impossible to describe _the frantic 
 commotion that prevailed" on board that 
 devoted ship for the short space of an hour 
 or so, when its butchered crew awoke to 
 resume the toil of their troubled career in life. 
 But when we emerged in the daylight to find 
 them lying stiff and stark in their wonted 
 attitude, the sail we had shortened was un- 
 touched. .. 
 
 It was, therefore, with renewed energy and 
 zest that we worked to draw in more sail, 
 binding it up again with the all-prevailing 
 
 63 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 symbols, and retiring to our hiding-place at 
 nightfall to test the result. 
 
 The hideous noise that" raged above our 
 heads would have maddened us, but for the 
 proof it afforded of the success with which 
 we had once more baffled the fell purposes of 
 our murderous and enchanted shipmates. 
 
 It took us five of the longest days and most 
 dreadful nights we had ever experienced to 
 gain the upper hand in this life-and-death 
 struggle with the Powers of Darkness. 
 
 Looking out on the sixth morning, I faintly 
 discerned an unwonted blur on the eastern 
 horizon. 
 
 I called to Ibrahim, who strained his eyes, 
 no less jaded than mine for want of sleep, 
 towards the direction I indicated. 
 
 "It is land, master !" he exclaimed at 
 length, and fell devoutly on his knees. 
 
 The news was too good to be triie, but we 
 loosed the smallest and lightest of the sails to 
 speed us onward in case we were approaching 
 the end of our dismal voyage, and before 
 many hours were passed the gentle breeze, 
 assisting us, we were assured that we were 
 being wafted towards a long, low, and sandy 
 coast. 
 
 The night that followed was the worst we 
 suffered. It would be impossible to relate 
 
 64 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 the awful uproar that arose when the frenzied 
 crew awoke to find that they were thwarted 
 in every attempt to set the vessel in motion. 
 The scene in the cabin was of the wildest, and, 
 worst of all for us, of the most prolonged. 
 How we escaped detection I cannot conceive, 
 unless it was that Ibrahim recited his spell 
 against witchcraft without intermission. 
 
 Happily for us the ordeal had its Limits, 
 though, when quiet was finally restored, we 
 were both so exhausted that we sank help- 
 lessly down and slept till the sun was blazing 
 at its meridian. 
 
 When I looked forth on this seventh day 
 of our trial, we were steadily drifting towards 
 a town, Ibrahim was at my side, closely 
 following the course of the ship. As the 
 domes and minarets loomed up more dis- 
 tinctly, he touched me on the shoulder and 
 said : 
 
 " We should do well to drop anchor now. 
 We are quite near enough to land to row out 
 and discover the kind of country we have 
 reached." 
 
 The advice seemed practical. We heaved 
 out the anchor, were rejoiced to find that it 
 took, lowered a boat, and rowed with might 
 and main towards the land. 
 
 In less than an hour we ran into a river, 
 65 E 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 and, pulling up-stream for a short distance, 
 we reached the town. We fastened our boat 
 to the quay-side and jumped ashore. 
 
 The town proved, curiously enough, to be 
 Bulsar — a name that had a homely ring about 
 it for us. We soon ascertained by the speech 
 and characteristics of its inhabitants that it 
 was in India, and further discreet inquiries 
 showed that it was not very far from Surat, 
 the port f orwhich we had shipped from Balsora. 
 
 Ibrahim and I noted these strange coinci- 
 dences as favourable omens in the strange 
 scheme of events which Fate had so mysteri- 
 ously designed for us. 
 
 The landlord of the modest inn at which we 
 stopped to refresh ourselves indirectly helped 
 to confirm our growing belief in the guiding 
 hand of Providence. He was a man who had 
 travelled about the world, and could speak 
 our language well. When we had chatted 
 with him for a while in friendly fashion, I 
 asked him casually if he could recommend us 
 to some wise and learned man in the town 
 who had some skill in medicine or science. 
 
 His face brightened up at once as he un- 
 hesitatingly informed us that there was a 
 singularly gifted Hakim, or doctor, who lived 
 hard by, a very peculiar person in his way, 
 yet for all that, one who had never been known 
 
 66 
 

 
 
 Illl 
 
 i' 
 
 k 
 
 I 
 
 Ik 
 
 
 ii 
 
 
 ii:: 
 
 
 i 
 
 • / 
 
 liii 
 
 //■ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 l.i^^J 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 m'. 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 liir 
 
 1- 
 
 l' -f-' --'^ 
 
 , ., ' i:m- :, 
 
 lUIII 
 
 v;,;y::::i3jn|{Hp™^ 
 
 Hull 
 
 " IVe /astcned our 
 boat to the quayside." 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 to err in his judgment and treatment of the 
 most difficult cases that had ever been sub- 
 mitted to his learning. So unbounded was 
 his confidence in this Hakim Muley that, 
 although we feigned not to require the services 
 of such a pre-eminent adviser for our wholly 
 trivial needs, our host insisted on conducting 
 us himself, and forthwith, to a secluded street 
 in a mean quarter of the town, where he left 
 us outside a modest doorway with strict in- 
 junctions to knock hard and often. 
 
 This piece of advice was very necessary, 
 for without it we should have abandoned our 
 quest as hopeless, and not waited patiently 
 till the door was at last opened by a deaf old 
 slave. 
 
 The feeble creature required no explanation 
 of our wants, but mutely signed to us to 
 follow him into a barely-furnished, cool 
 chamber. 
 
 We were kept waiting for half an hour, 
 when I began to lose patience. 
 
 " You are wrong to fret, master, for by 
 every token that I can discern, this Hakim 
 Muley is the likeliest person in the world to 
 solve the riddle of our haunted ship," Ibrahim 
 remarked very dutifully, in due course. 
 
 " Why is he so long about coming, then ? 
 Time is fleeting," 
 
 67 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 " Genius never takes account of Time any 
 more than it does of circumstances. This 
 town, this house, this room, the slave, and 
 this delay are eloquent of the reckless vagaries 
 of the really inspired man who neither seeks 
 to impose nor schemes to profit." 
 
 I was musing over what Ibrahim had said 
 when a shrivelled-up little man with a grey 
 beard and beady nose came into the room. 
 
 " Sirs, I hear you are inquiring for me," he 
 remarked, peering shrewdly at us out of his 
 keen little deep-set eyes. 
 
 " Have we the honour of speaking to the 
 learned Hakim Muley, whose fame has been 
 made known to us in the town ?" I asked 
 respectfully. 
 
 " My name is indeed Muley, ever ready to 
 serve to the best of such skill as I possess." 
 
 We bowed respectfully to one another, and 
 then, having been bidden to seat ourselves on 
 the divan, he took a place between us and 
 begged to be informed of our errand. 
 
 He listened silently but most attentively to 
 the story of the adventure we unfolded to 
 him. 
 
 " Extraordinary — very extraordinary !" he 
 observed, in uncommonly grave tones. "There 
 can be no doubt about it, from your narrative, 
 that the ship you were on is under a strange 
 
 68 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 curse of some kind, and I must congratulate 
 you on the wisdom you displayed in acting as 
 you did and thus saving yourselves alive. 
 ... I should judge," he pursued, after a 
 pause, " that the crew of the vessel is under 
 a spell on account of some horrible crime. 
 Until I have an opportunity of inspecting the 
 ship myself, I would not venture to offer any 
 further opinion. Where did you anchor ?" 
 
 I explained the position as nearly as I 
 could. 
 
 " The ship is safe off that strip of coast for 
 the night. The sea there is much infested by 
 sharks and dreaded by the people of Bulsar. 
 The spot, besides that, is out of the fairway 
 into the harbour. My advice to you, then, 
 seeing the day is now far spent, is to go back 
 to your inn and to fortify yourselves for such 
 trials as may still await you by a hearty meal, 
 the companionship of your fellow-men, and a 
 long, sound sleep. If you agree to this, and 
 think I may be able to render you assistance, 
 I will promise to be at the quay, where you 
 have left your boat, at sunrise to-morrow 
 morning, with what I consider necessary for 
 the enterprise in hand, after careful study of 
 the matter." 
 
 I looked at Ibrahim for his approval. 
 
 " The advice is good, master," was his out- 
 69 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 spoken comment, and with due formalities we 
 retired. 
 
 Our landlord was very glad to receive us 
 bask and to be informed that we were so 
 well satisfied with his recommendation of the 
 Hakim as to resolve to pass the night under 
 his roof. He fed us well, entertained us with 
 many interesting stories, and lodged us so 
 comfortably that, but for the punctuality with 
 which he obeyed our instructions to call us 
 at daybreak, Ibrahim and I would certainly 
 have slept on till noontide again. 
 
 We hurried down to our boat, and just as 
 the first fiery streaks of light darted upwards 
 in the eastern sky, a huddled-up little figure, 
 bearing a heavy basket-load of saws, hammers, 
 and axes, dodged out of a dark, narrow street, 
 and came towards us. 
 
 It was the Hakim Muley. 
 
 " Be as quick as you can," he said, seating 
 himself at the rudder, and cutting short our 
 respectful greetings. 
 
 We loosed the boat, shot down the stream 
 with the current, and in a short hour, by dint 
 of hard rowing, were once more alongside 
 that ill-fated ship. 
 
 In spite of being prepared, after what we 
 had told him, for the gruesome sight he was 
 to look upon, Muley was visibly appalled by 
 
 70 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 the awful horror of the scene which confronted 
 him in sober reality when he at last stood on 
 the deck. 
 
 It was some time before he was able to 
 speak, and he then suggested that we should 
 first of all accompany him on a careful inspec- 
 tion of the vessel. 
 
 " I must see," he said, " if I can possibly 
 discover any indications of what has hap- 
 pened here before I can venture oh an opinion 
 of how to deal with this horrible state of 
 affairs." 
 
 We took him below, and in and out of every 
 cabin, hold, and recess, but nothing he saw 
 seemed to afford him any clue to the mystery. 
 
 Once on deck again, and doing violence to 
 his natural feelings of abhorrence for the job, 
 he proceeded with strained expression and 
 trembling hands to examine those awful 
 corpses one by one. We watched him in- 
 tently studying the ghastly wounds, tapping 
 and sounding, trying vainly to lift a head 
 here or a limb there, and standing at last 
 in complete bewilderment before that most 
 terrible figure nailed in such cruel fashion to 
 the mast. 
 
 " We must seek the solution of the riddle 
 here," he said, after a long pause, and point- 
 ing as he spoke to the Captain. 
 
 71 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 At his request I fetched him his basket of 
 tools, but, work as he would, and as willingly 
 as we could help him, hammer and saw, axe 
 and chisel refused to detach the man from his 
 rigid position. Seeing that all human agency 
 was unavailing, Muley had recourse to his 
 mystic skill, but his secret arts were as 
 powerless as his workmanlike tools. 
 
 " There is nothing for it, my friends, but 
 that you must, however reluctantly, abandon 
 this rich prize, and consign this ship to the 
 all-devouring flames. It would be useless to 
 remove the valuable cargo and then burn the 
 ship, for no blessing would rest upon you with 
 an accursed heritage of woe, unless these un- 
 happy men were first delivered by you from 
 the pains and penalties for which they are 
 enduring this dreadful doom !" 
 
 This pronouncement was a crushing blow 
 to the sanguine hopes which had supported 
 me during our trials and afflictions. Muley 
 was sorry for me, and Ibrahim, as usual, ever 
 ready to cheer and console me. 
 
 The day slowly wore on while we were con- 
 certing measures for setting the ship ablaze, 
 when Muley, who had all along been strangely 
 pensive and abstracted, suddenly seized me 
 by the arm. 
 
 " How quickly can you row the boat to 
 72 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 the nearest point of land ?" he asked ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 " That spit of land can be reached in a 
 quarter of an hour," I replied, after taking 
 my observations. 
 
 " A quarter of an hour there, another 
 quarter to fill your boat with earth, and a 
 quarter to get back in. Let us say an hour. 
 The sun will not set till two hours after your 
 return. Go, my son. It is a mere inspira- 
 tion that directs me. We can but try it. If 
 it fails — well, we shall be just where we are ; 
 if it succeeds, I shall have done something to 
 justify your confidence in me ; and if the 
 wealth on board this ship can make you 
 happy and prosperous, may it be yours." 
 
 I was not far wrong in my estimation of the 
 time it would take to accomphsh the task set 
 me, though how dearly I may still have to 
 pay for the supreme physical effort it cost 
 me remains to be seen. Anyhow, dripping 
 with perspiration that oozed out of every 
 pore of my body, I rowed back to the ship 
 with the heaviest load of earth that any boat 
 could weU be called upon to bear. 
 
 Muley and Ibrahim were waiting my return, 
 and as soon as I had fastened up the boat as 
 closely as I could to the side, they lowered 
 buckets, which they bade me fiU. with earth. 
 
 73 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 They had drawn up some twenty bucketftds, 
 when Muley called me to join them on the 
 deck. 
 
 " Now, my friends," he said, " help me to 
 prove the value of the experiment that has 
 occurred to me. I am going to stand by 
 the Captain and make certain preliminaries. 
 Watch me, for the moment I am ready I shall 
 raise my right arm, and I then want you both, 
 each with a bucketful of earth, to come for- 
 ward hastily and pour the earth over the 
 man. If you get on that box, which I will 
 place near him, you wiU be able to empty 
 your buckets, so that the earth falls on his 
 head and trickles down between his body and 
 the mast. Do you understand me perfectly ?" 
 
 We gave him the assurance he required. 
 
 There was something peculiarly solemn and 
 impressive about the manner in which he 
 advanced towards that forbidding spectre at 
 the mast. Having dragged the box up for 
 our use, he then planted himself in front of 
 the Captain and diligently began to pray. 
 The monotonous sound of his voice rising and 
 falling on the stillness of the scene, the curious 
 way in which he swayed to and fro, and 
 stooped every now and again to draw, as it 
 were, a magic circle about himself with a low 
 sweeping motion of his hands, imparted a 
 
 74 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 weird and ghostly effect to the proceedings 
 that thrilled and awed us. 
 
 All at once his arm went up, and, mindful 
 of his strict commands, we dismissed our fears 
 and hastened to execute his orders. 
 
 What happened can never sound half so 
 incredible when told in words as it was to us 
 who witnessed the astounding reality. 
 
 No sooner had the earth touched the Cap- 
 tain's head than his whole frame quivered 
 into life. As we continued to pour the earth 
 out, a great sigh of unutterable relief escaped 
 from his lips, the wound in his forehead began 
 to bleed, the nail that held him transfixed 
 began to loosen, the rigid muscles of his body 
 began to relax, and then, staggering forward 
 a step or two, he collapsed, limp and breathing 
 heavily, on to the deck. 
 
 " More earth — more earth !" Muley yelled 
 frantically. 
 
 We filled our buckets as speedily as our falter- 
 ing limbs would allow us, and strewed their 
 contents plentifully on the prostrate form. 
 
 "Thanks . . . thanks . . . thanks . . ." 
 the Captain gasped, and, as if refreshed and 
 revived beyond measure by some healing 
 balm, he scooped the earth closelj'^ about him. 
 
 With a sudden access of strength he pre- 
 sently propped himself up on his right elbow, 
 
 75 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 and, looking about him as one who has awaked 
 out of a long nightmare, his eyes fell upon us. 
 
 " Who has brought me here ?" he asked, 
 
 He spoke as a man who was accustomed to 
 command, yet there was an accent of entreaty 
 about his voice which allayed fear and stirred 
 compassion. 
 
 Muley and Ibrahim pointed to me in answer 
 to his question. 
 
 " An Arab, by your dress." 
 
 " Yes, of Balsora," T replied. 
 
 " We are . . . ?" 
 
 " Off the Indian coast," I interposed. 
 
 " India . . . ! How far we have drifted in 
 all those long years !" 
 
 " Years !" I exclaimed. 
 
 " It must be years, and years, and years ..." 
 
 I gave him the date, and he looked wistfully 
 at Ibrahim and Muley to confirm it. 
 
 " Can it possibly be ... ? For fifty and 
 more summers I have been scouring this waste 
 of waters in this accursed ship, a terror to 
 myself and the harbinger of evil, death, and 
 destruction to all unhappy mariners who 
 chanced to sail within the range of my nightly 
 rovings." 
 
 " How came you cursed ?" I asked. 
 
 " By my own rashness and folly. I was the 
 son of wealthy and influential parents in 
 
 76 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 Algiers, and, like them, I might have lived to 
 be honoured and respected in my day and 
 generation. In the frivolous recklessness of 
 youth I consorted with bad companions, 
 brought disgrace on my name, and when, 
 persisting in bad courses, I was at length 
 disowned by my kith and kin, I embarked 
 as a pirate on a career of crime and plunder. 
 While scouring the coasts of Western Morocco 
 for booty, I picked up a dervish, who, unsus- 
 picious of my real character, asked to sail free 
 of charge with me to his home in Algiers, 
 whither he supposed I was returning. The 
 idea of having such a man on board was so 
 humorous that I shipped him along, intend- 
 ing to have many a pleasant joke at the 
 expense of himself and of my rough and 
 vicious crew. But I made a mistake with 
 my man, whose integrity of heart and holi- 
 ness of life were beyond the corrupting influ- 
 ences of our loose society ; and when he had 
 at last realised in his guilelessness what we 
 were and the deceit I had practised upon him, 
 he never ceased to denounce me in terms of 
 unmitigated scorn and condemnation. His 
 steady and persistent defiance of me were not 
 without their due effect on the more timorous- 
 minded of my men, and my mate and I 
 decided that, if we wished to retain our 
 
 77 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 authority, it was time for us to be rid of him. 
 But we were too late, for that same night a 
 fierce mutiny broke out on the deck. Rush- 
 ing up from my cabin, I charged straight for 
 the dervish, who I knew was the chief cause 
 of the disaffection. I thrust him promptly 
 through with my sword, and as he fell he 
 cursed me to roam the seas in this hell of a 
 ship, not to live and not to die till chance or 
 circumstances brought me into contact with 
 the earth again. I laughed aloud at his words, 
 and flung him overboard, but never did a man 
 speak more truly. For hours my mate and I 
 fought almost singlehanded to subdue the 
 revolt among the crew, but the odds were 
 against us, and I was seized and nailed to the 
 mast. In the end, as you must have seen for 
 yourselves, not a single man came unscathed 
 out of this wholesale butchery. But we were 
 not dead, for night by night we were doomed 
 to re-enact the appalling horrors of our ill- 
 fated combat, while the elements stormed and 
 raged around us . . ." 
 
 The Captain fell back in a swoon, and 
 Muley beckoned us to fetch more earth. 
 
 " Thanks, kind friends," the wretched man 
 gasped in a last painful effort, " you have 
 done your duty. . . . Let me die in peace 
 now, and let this youth to whom I owe my 
 
 78 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 happy release from further torment take my 
 ship for his reward. I dare not bless him if 
 I would, but Heaven will prosper him, for he 
 has been chosen to fulfil its decrees on me." 
 
 He spoke no more, and when we had stood 
 for some moments wrapt in solemn thought, 
 Muley bade me help him to convey the body 
 to land for burial. 
 
 A strange thing happened now, for as we 
 stooped and tried to lift the lifeless form it 
 just crumbled to earth in our hands. 
 
 We had no sooner recovered from our great 
 surprise than our anxious thoughts were im- 
 mediately directed to the other bodies strewn 
 on the deck. We had forgotten all about 
 them in the excitement of dealing with the 
 Captain. 
 
 There they lay, to all outward seeming as 
 ghastly as ever, and we shuddered at the long 
 task still awaiting us in the gathering gloom 
 of night. But, marvellous to relate, the 
 release of their chief from the terrible curse 
 of the dervish had freed them, too, from the 
 unholy ban. One by one their poor frames 
 mouldered into dust as we sought to remove 
 them. 
 
 We swept the remnants of what had once 
 been human beings into a great heap, 
 shovelled it into the boat, and rowed it to 
 
 79 
 
The Death Ship 
 
 land for burial. Then, dark though it now 
 was, we profited by a gentle breeze to set a 
 sail and steer into the harbour of Surat. 
 
 In this thriving port I soon engaged suffi- 
 cient men to get us into trim, and to embark 
 with me on a trading expedition along the 
 Indian coasts. 
 
 The good Hakim Muley stood by us till he 
 was assured that no spell or magic would ever 
 disturb us more ; then, refusing my offer to 
 provide for his further wants in life, he chose 
 a few paltry articles out of my rich spoil to 
 remind him of a great adventure, and quietly 
 departed for his humble home in the sleepy 
 town of Bulsar. 
 
 Though the Captain could not bless me, 
 Heaven, in whose power he left that care, 
 amply rewarded me for that agony in my 
 existence, which seems brief as I look back 
 upon it after the years that have gone by, 
 but which, when I dwell more closely upon it, 
 was an age of indescribable horror that no 
 language I can utter could possibly describe. 
 
 80 
 
t/itCli 
 
 ook:. 
 
 81 
 
LITTLE MOOK 
 
 HIS real name was Mookrah, but he 
 was such an odd-looking dwarf of a 
 creature that everybody in the town 
 called him Little Mook, for it seemed only 
 proper that half a man should have but half a 
 name. 
 
 He lived all by himself in a very large house, 
 and for days at a time it would have been im- 
 possible to tell whether he was alive or dead, 
 so secluded were his habits and so little did he 
 either cultivate the society of his fellow-men or 
 try to overcome the natural feelings of repug- 
 nance which his outward aspect provoked. 
 
 He was not only very short, but he had an 
 immense head and the most extravagant 
 ideas of dress. He wore the biggest of turbans 
 to make himself look more top-heavy than 
 ever, his little legs were swathed in profusely 
 loose trousers, the broadest of girdles encircled 
 his waist, and a mighty long dagger was gal- 
 lantly stuck through its ample folds. 
 
 83 
 
Little Mook 
 
 No wonder that if he was surprised in the 
 streets by the boys of the town, on the rare 
 occasions when urged by his religious duties to 
 go to the mosque or compelled on a house- 
 keeping errand to sally forth to market, a 
 whole bevy of urchins would jeeringly follow 
 him about, tugging at his cloak, or trying to 
 trip him up by treading on his big slippers, 
 and shouting all the while : 
 
 " Little Mook, Little Mook, 
 If you can, turn round and look, 
 And say what son of a sea-cook 
 Last did touch you, Little Mook !" 
 
 Many an older and wiser man who stood 
 placidly by and watched this cruel sport was 
 inwardly ashamed of himself, and should have 
 had the courage to put a stop to it ; for, 
 although poor Little Mook cut such a ridi- 
 culous figure and bore himself so haughtily, 
 and so disdainfully of all sympathy and pro- 
 tection, his worst misfortunes were not, after 
 all, of his making, and if the truth had only 
 been known, even the most callous boys of 
 the town would have refrained from insult- 
 ing him, and been the readiest to reverence 
 the poor little man. 
 
 The world is always indifferent and always 
 hard with regard to infirmity unless it be of 
 the most pitiful nature. Experience has 
 
 84 
 
Little Mook 
 
 amply proved that outward appearance counts 
 tor nothing, and yet it is by outward appear- 
 ance that we are all most ready to judge our 
 fellow-men. 
 
 Little Mook's father even — the very last 
 person on earth who should have condemned 
 him —was bitterest against his misshapen son. 
 But for his undisguised dislike of him, who 
 shall tell how different the lot of the poor 
 little dwarf might have been ? His father 
 should have worked harder and saved more 
 in order to spare his afflicted child, whereas 
 he only despised the sole bearer of his name, 
 and recklessly squandered his substance, while 
 utterly neglecting his son's education and 
 upbringing, so that, when he died, miserably 
 impoverished and heavily in debt, the luck- 
 less little wight was driven to go out into the 
 world and seek his own fortunes. 
 
 It was somewhat pathetic that he should 
 in his generous small heart have held his 
 father in such reverence as to beg that he 
 might be given the clothes the undutiful man 
 had worn before his death. Little did he care 
 whether they fitted him or not. His father 
 had been a tall, big man, so that, when Mook 
 came to try the clothes on, he quickly saw 
 that the sleeves of the jacket and the legs of 
 the pantaloons were too long ; but this fault 
 
 85 
 
Little Mook 
 
 was easily to be corrected with a pair of 
 scissors and a few rough stitches of a needle. 
 It did not occur to him, however, that jacket 
 and pantaloons were also too wide, and as for 
 the girdle and turban, it surely mattered very 
 little whether these were wound five times or 
 twenty times round his head and waist. He 
 thought no more of curtailing them than of 
 chopping the end off his father's favourite 
 dagger. Such details were not worth con- 
 sideration, and when the house that had been 
 his home was cleared of all its cherished con- 
 tents, he just locked it up, put the key in his 
 pocket, and, fearfully and wonderfully ac- 
 coutred, sallied forth to court success in life. 
 
 His simple mind could not conceive the 
 idea of failure attending his quest, and as he 
 wandered merrily along he often stooped to 
 pick vip any bit of glass or pottery that lay 
 glittering in the sunshine, firmly believing 
 that his path was to be strewn with diamonds 
 and precious stones. The world was just a 
 fairyland to him, where everything that was 
 bright was a joy, and everything that sparkled 
 a promise of happiness. 
 
 Alas for his guileless fancies ! If he had 
 never been tired or hungry he might well have 
 enjoyed the pleasures of hope, but long walk- 
 ing was wearing work, and the odds and ends 
 
 86 
 
Little Mook 
 
 of food he could pick up by the wayside were 
 neither satisfying nor sustaining. Two nights 
 in the open, with the hard ground for his bed 
 and heavy dews for clammy blankets, were 
 not very inspiriting ; so that, when the third 
 morning dawned, he was glad, as soon as he 
 had rubbed the sleep from his eyes, to see the 
 sun glinting on the roofs and mosques of a 
 large town. 
 
 " At last !" he cried. " There or nowhere 
 lies my good fortune." 
 
 Full of delightful expectations, he quickly 
 jumped to his feet, smartened himself up, and 
 carefully adjusted his turban and dagger. 
 But the town was further than the deceptive 
 morning light had led him to suppose, and it 
 was high noon before he arrived, famished 
 and footsore, at its gates. 
 
 Animated by faith in his destiny, he wiped 
 the dust off his shoes, gave his turban and 
 dagger a jaunty tilt, and strode triumphantly 
 into the streets. 
 
 Strangely enough, not a door was opened 
 to receive him, and not a friendly being came 
 forth to greet him. Up and down and in and 
 out he walked, peering anxiously about him, 
 till, wellnigh exhausted and famished, he 
 would have confessed himself deceived, when 
 in a remote street a window was suddenly 
 
 87 
 
Little Mook 
 
 opened, and a tuneful voice rang out in the 
 stillness : 
 
 " Come, come ! 
 You neighbours quickly come ! 
 The table is all ready spread. 
 Cooked is the broth, and soaked the bread. 
 Come, come, and eat what I've prepared. 
 It is for you, let none be spared !" 
 
 Mook shuffled along with all speed in the 
 direction whence this hospitable call had pro- 
 ceeded, and soon stood outside a great house, 
 the door of which was wide open. To his 
 surprise, a troop of cats and dogs was pressing 
 in, and he stood for some time wondering at 
 this strange sight. Surely, he thought at 
 length, such a general invitation to eat and 
 be satisfied could not be intended for hungry 
 beasts only, and must include a starving 
 creature like himself, though he happened to 
 be the solitary representative of the human 
 species on this particular day. 
 
 He took heart of grace, therefore, and brought 
 up the rear of the four-footed procession. 
 
 A sour-faced, cross old woman confronted 
 him at the entrance of what was apparently 
 the banqueting-hall. 
 
 " Well, httle man," she grunted, as she 
 barred his way, " who are you, pray, and 
 what have you come here for ?" 
 
 88 
 
A iioaji of cats an i dogi 
 ■maspesshin into thi, house 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " I am hungry, and I was bidden to come 
 and eat !" 
 
 " But the whole town knows that I only 
 feed cats and dogs !" 
 
 " I am not of the tovm." 
 
 " Not of the town ! How did you get into 
 this out-of-the-way street, then ?" 
 
 " Don't know how I got here, but I am 
 here, and I'm simply starving for food." 
 
 " You are an odd little mite, and I could 
 almost be sorry for you." 
 
 " You really might be if you would believe 
 what I could tell." 
 
 " I will believe you when you have eaten 
 and drunk your fill. The cat and dog food I 
 have provided freely will not, however, tempt 
 you. You shall dine with me, and tell me 
 your story." 
 
 Here was bounty beyond what Little Mook 
 felt that he could either have expected or 
 deserved, so when he had amply allayed the 
 pangs of hunger, he told his hostess, in his 
 own natural and simple way, the exact truth 
 about himself and his adventures. 
 
 The old lady listened attentively to his 
 narrative, and when he had finished speaking, 
 she said : 
 
 " Little Mook, I have a proposal to make 
 to you. What do you say to entering my 
 
 89 
 
Little Mook 
 
 service ? You will not have too much to do, 
 you will be well housed and fed, and I will also 
 pay you good wages." 
 
 After his sorry experiences of wandering, 
 so generous an offer could not fail to be accept- 
 able to Little Mook, and he readily consented 
 to the terms proposed. 
 
 The old dame was called Ahavtsee. She 
 was a very eccentric person, passionately 
 devoted to animals, and especially to cats 
 and dogs. Besides' keeping open house at 
 the dinner hour for the domestic pets and 
 homeless creatures of the neighbourhood, she 
 had six splendid long-haired blue Persians 
 of her own, and three or four good dogs. The 
 cats were her particular favourites ; if they 
 had been her own children she could not have 
 loved them more, and it was Mook's special 
 duty to wait on them, to comb and dress their 
 lovely fur, to watch them, feed them, and 
 make them comfortable on their silk cushions 
 under soft velvet coverings. 
 
 His work was really of the lightest and he 
 did it gladly. Dame Ahavtsee was pleased 
 with him, and, except for not paying him, fed 
 him liberally, and treated him well. But it was 
 a dismally lonely and monotonous kind of life ; 
 the old lady was often out, and rarely spoke 
 to him when she was at home. She had 
 
 90 
 
Little Mook 
 
 grown so accustomed in her own house to the 
 silent companionship of dumb animals that 
 she could not realise that Mook was a sociable 
 human being. As time wore on, too, and his 
 particular charges became accustomed to him, 
 and discovered with that marvellous instinct 
 characteristic of the brute creation, the full 
 measure of their odd attendant's peculiarities 
 and limitations, they decided that he had 
 little real sympathy with them, and that he 
 was little to be obeyed or feared. 
 
 Much as Dame Ahavtsee loved and hum- 
 oured her pets she was a severe mistress, and 
 awed them into dutiful respect of her. When 
 she was out of the way and poor little weary 
 Mook in sole charge of them, they first began 
 to be frolicsome, then naughty, and finally 
 downright mischievous. They dashed about 
 the house in wild playfulness, utterly dis- 
 regardful of his efforts to restrain them, and in 
 their gambols and antics they delighted to 
 see what amount of damage they could do. 
 As soon as Dame Ahavtsee was heard to be 
 coming, they sneaked off quietly to their beds, 
 and looked so blissfully good and innocent 
 that Mook had to bear the blame for the 
 disordered state of the rooms, and for the 
 numerous breakages of valuable china and 
 dainty furniture that were becoming of such 
 
 91 
 
Little Mook 
 
 frequent occurrence. It was in vain that he 
 told the old lady the simple truth ; she 
 indignantly refused to believe his story, rated 
 him soundly, and treated him Avith increasing 
 harshness. 
 
 Little Mook was very hurt and very sad, 
 because he would have been quite satisfied 
 to have remained in Dame Ahavtsee's service 
 for the rest of his life, but day by day it 
 became more evident to him that he must once 
 more go in search of happiness and fortune. 
 The memory of the terrible experiences he 
 had undergone on his first journey made him 
 naturally loath to plunge penniless again into 
 the hard and cruel world. To be sure Dame 
 Ahavtsee had promised him wages for his 
 work, but she had not as yet paid him any 
 money, and now that he had lost favour with 
 her it was hopeless to expect that she would 
 fulfil her obligations to him. It was not a 
 pleasant or righteous thing to contemplate 
 doing, still, if go he really must, what else 
 was there for him except to help himself 
 somehow or other to the pay that was his 
 rightful due. 
 
 Dame Ahavtsee was, however, a shrewd, 
 practical woman. She did not leave money 
 or jewellery lying about ; and now that Little 
 Mook was tempted to take by foul means 
 
 92 
 
Little Mook 
 
 what he could not hope to obtain fairly, he 
 discovered how cautious his mistress was 
 about locking up the drawers and cupboards 
 of the house. Curiosity had never hitherto 
 impelled him to explore the premises, but the 
 definite object he now had in view led him to 
 frequent investigations upstairs and down- 
 stairs, and it was on one of these excursions 
 that he chanced into a secluded kind of attic, 
 where he found a most extraordinary col- 
 lection of odds and ends. He could not 
 conceive of what possible use anything he 
 saw in the place was likely to be, and casually 
 picked up a crystal globe quaintly adorned 
 with strange figures. It was pretty enough in 
 its way, he mused, turning it round and round 
 in his hands, when by some unhappy mis- 
 chance it slipped from his fingers, and was 
 shattered to atoms on the hard fioor. 
 
 Poor Little Mook almost died of fright. It 
 was the first accident of the kind he had had, 
 and it sealed his fate. There could be no 
 hope for him now. In their naughtiest moods 
 the cats and dogs never strayed into the attics ; 
 he would never be able to protest his inno- 
 cence of the damage they wrought with any 
 sincerity again ; there was nothing for him now 
 but to flee from the wrath of Dame Ahavtsee. 
 
 But he felt that he must take something, 
 93 
 
Little Mook 
 
 and, looking round, he saw a beautiful pair 
 of shoes, and by the side of them a dainty 
 little cane, Avith a quaintly-carved knob. His 
 own slippers were worn to shreds. He remem- 
 bered how painfully he had suffered in his 
 first journey on their account ; a cane was 
 always useful against dogs if it might not 
 serve him in an encounter with men, so he 
 put his feet into the shoes, grasped the stick, 
 tumbled helter-skelter down the stairs, out 
 of the front door, through the town, and away 
 as fast as his little legs could carry him. 
 
 Oh, how they carried him ! Never in all 
 his life before had he run as fast and as far. 
 It positively seemed to him as if he was being 
 rushed along by some invisible power, and 
 that he could not stop running even if he 
 wanted to do so. This sense of being forced 
 onwards at last began to terrify him. He 
 looked down at his feet, and turned giddy at 
 the sight of the pace they were going. What 
 could it be ? he wondered, growing ever more 
 alarmed. Suddenly it occurred to him that 
 there must be some magic about the shoes he 
 had stolen, and he cried in despair : " Wo, 
 wo, wo ! shoes, stop !" Wonderful to relate, 
 his tired little legs gradually slowed down, 
 and he at last fell, panting and exhausted, to 
 the ground. 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " Allah be praised]!" he exclaimed, as soon 
 as he had recovered his breath. " I am in 
 the race for fortune now." 
 
 He took off his shoes, and examined them 
 carefully. They were too big for him, but other- 
 wise there was little enough about them to sug- 
 gest the marvellous property they possessed. 
 
 " I hope I am not mistaken," he pondered 
 wistfully ; " I should like to try your magic 
 again," he added, as he put them on his feet ; 
 " but I have no wind left in my body ; besides it 
 is getting late, and there is convenient shelter 
 for my tired little self in this secluded grove." 
 
 Mook trailed himself accordingly to a quiet 
 spot among the trees, and lay down to sleep 
 for the night. 
 
 Poor little man ! His day's adventures had 
 been exciting enough to make sleep very long 
 in coming, and when it came, very broken. 
 Fantastic visions of diabolical cats and dogs, 
 revengeful old women, grimly animated 
 objects of common use, chased one another 
 through the chambers of his capacious brain, 
 and made him toss restlessly on his hard couch. 
 
 Finally, however, a softly lulling dream 
 brought peace to his tormented soul. 
 
 He could not remember how it came, or 
 which of all the strange phantoms of his 
 imagination it was that addressed him, but 
 
 95 
 
Little Mook 
 
 the voice was of the kindest and most sooth- 
 ing, and it said : 
 
 " Mook ! Be of good cheer ! The shoes 
 you ran away with will serve you well, and 
 will always obey your orders, if you have faith 
 in their magic and treat them with thoughtful 
 care. They were of no use to a woman of 
 Dame Ahavtsee's nature, and would be equally 
 valueless to the majority of human kind. 
 They were fashioned by mysterious workman- 
 ship for such as you, whom the world in its 
 thoughtless way disregards and slights. The 
 same applies to the cane you have brought 
 away with you. It may be of wondrous 
 power in your hands, and will tell you where 
 riches are to be found, if riches can make you 
 or any other man happy. That is a riddle, and 
 you have still to learn that life is full of riddles, 
 and that the greatest riddle of all is Life itself." 
 
 The sun had been awake for some hours 
 when Mook opened his eyes. 
 
 " Shoes ! . . . my big, big shoes !" he said, 
 as his dream gradually recurred to his mind, 
 " let me look at you ! . . . Is it true that you 
 can really help me ? . . . And you, my 
 cane ! . . . WiU you tell me how I may be 
 rich ? . . . If you can, my shoes, then trans- 
 port me at your quickest to where my cane 
 mav find its opportunity !" 
 
 96 
 
Little Mook 
 
 He had barely time to adjust his ample 
 turban on his big head and to cock his long 
 dagger gallantly at his side, when Mook felt 
 that he was moving, and before he knew how 
 he had got there, he was in the crowded 
 market-place of a great busy town. 
 
 The traffic and commotion were too much 
 for the little man. Whatever fortunes other 
 people might make by such hustling and 
 jostling, wrangling and bargaining, excite- 
 ment and heat, Mook felt he at any rate had 
 nothing to seek or find amid such surround- 
 ings. So he wriggled as best he could out of 
 the throng, and withdrew into a quiet side 
 street to consider the situation. What should 
 he do, he wondered, to earn a few pence ? 
 If his presence had aroused any notice he 
 might have gained a little by exhibiting 
 himself. But painful as that would have been, 
 it was evidently out of the question. Then 
 there was his cane ; should he advertise its 
 qualities as a wealth finder ? The risk was 
 too great. He had as yet no certainty of its 
 magic ; besides, what chances could his puny 
 self have of defending his possession of a 
 treasure-finding rod, if such it really was, 
 against a world of strong men whose whole 
 object in life was to acquire riches. 
 There were his shoes, to be sure, but, 
 97 Q 
 
Little Mook 
 
 remembering his dream, he wisely reflected 
 that it would be no use trying to barter them 
 for food and drink and a quiet home ; the shoes 
 might carry him about fast enough, they were 
 not, however, intended to serve anybody or 
 everybody in the same expeditious way. 
 
 Wrapped in sober thought, he had gone in 
 and out of the less frequented by-streets when 
 he found himself in a wide open space planted 
 with trees. A white marble gateway faced 
 him, and, full of curiosity, he approached it 
 to discover if it led to a mosque. 
 
 He had failed to notice an imposing-looking 
 iigure very richly clad, with a formidable 
 moustache and a whole arsenal of weapons 
 round his waist, standing astride and arms 
 akimbo in the doorway. As Mook, therefore, 
 crept and shuffled along he was terribly 
 startled to come upon this giant, and to hear 
 his loud guffaw. 
 
 " Well, you queer little monster, what in 
 the name of all that's funny has brought you 
 here ?" the man asked, in a voice that was 
 dreadful enough, but not altogether lacking 
 in tones of piteous contempt. 
 
 " I don't know," Mook rephed, trembling 
 in every limb. 
 
 " Don't know ! How did you get here ?" 
 
 " By running, sir." 
 
 98 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " By running ! You're a bigger liar than 
 you are a little man." 
 
 " I may be little, but I can run." 
 
 " What else can you do, pray ?" 
 
 " Nothing, but I can run." 
 
 " As fast as " 
 
 " The fastest man in the world." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! That's good enough, at any 
 rate ! I am seriously minded to make you 
 run for your life, but what do you say to 
 having a fair race with the King's runner ?" 
 
 " What King ?" 
 
 " Why, of course, the Ring who lives in 
 this palace." 
 
 " It's a palace, is it ?" 
 
 " Did you think it was a gaol, then ?" 
 
 " No — I'm a perfect stranger here. I 
 thought it might be a mosque." 
 
 " Well, no, it happens to be the palace of 
 the Sultan. He is the best of Sultans, and, 
 to be candid with such a liar as you are, he 
 is really fond of a bit of downright sport. 
 Nothing would amuse him more than to see 
 you challenge his runner-in -chief . Are you 
 equal to it ? You will make a fool of your- 
 self, but I don't think you will come to much 
 harm otherwise." 
 
 " I am quite ready for any test in running, 
 but I am rather hungry just now." 
 
 99 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " Hungry, eh ? Well, come with me, and 
 I'll see that you get food, but you must 
 promise me not to overeat yourself, for I 
 am going to arrange a race for you this 
 evening." 
 
 Mook's leader was no less a personage than 
 the high steward of the royal palace. The 
 court attendants might well wonder to see so 
 important a man leading such a quaint little 
 figure as Mook presented to his own official 
 apartments ; they were even more surprised 
 to hear in due course that the comical looking 
 creature was being sumptuously entertained 
 to food and drink, while his host sought an 
 interview with the Sultan. 
 
 The secret of the matter leaked out when 
 it was announced later in the afternoon that 
 His Majesty was pleased to command a 
 revel in the meidan, or recreation ground, 
 that same evening, and that, among other 
 sportive events, there was to be a race between 
 the King's runner and a distinguished dwarf 
 newly arrived in the capital. 
 
 A great crowd of dignitaries and officials 
 of the kingdom, royal retainers and palace 
 servants were therefore gathered on the 
 ground when the Sultan took his place and 
 ordered the sports to begin. Entertaining 
 though every item on the programme was, 
 
 100 
 
Little Mook 
 
 none provoked such a hearty cheer as the 
 appearance on the course of the runner-in- 
 chief, a tall, lithe, and beautifully - formed 
 athlete, followed by the heavily turbaned, 
 big-headed, but small-limbed Mook, sorely 
 encumbered by his long dagger stuck in the 
 wide folds of his huge girdle, his baggy, ill- 
 fitting pantaloons, and his great shoes. 
 
 Here was fun, if ever fun was to be enjoyed, 
 and the good-natured runner was the first 
 to draw attention to the joke of the contest. 
 
 The two ill-matched competitors were sol- 
 emnly bidder} to toe the line; the starter 
 purposely delayed the race to add to the 
 ridiculous character of it; and then, as if 
 bored at last by his own absurdities, he con- 
 sented to give the signal. 
 
 Away the two sped, the runner visibly 
 straining every limb and muscle, while Mook 
 shot along as if he had been projected out of 
 a cannon's mouth. Laughter died out in 
 pure amazement; the frenzied shouts were 
 stilled. Mook reached his goal, and was coolly 
 standing at the winning-post while his rival 
 was panting and labouring to overtake him. 
 
 Here was a marvel indeed, and the Sultan, 
 with that well-known tact which endeared 
 him to his subjects, was the first to recognise 
 it. He stood up in his pavilion, courteously 
 
 101 
 
Little Mook 
 
 bowed to Mook, and loudly applauded his 
 performance. 
 
 A mighty cheer rent the air, and when it 
 subsided the Sultan beckoned to Mook to 
 approach, and there, in the presence of all his 
 court, appointed him to his personal staff, 
 among the most trusted and select, who might 
 eat from his table, claim privilege of rank, and 
 ever rely on his support and favour. 
 
 Mook was now the happiest of men. 
 Fortune had at last pitied him for his infi- 
 mities, and had favoured him beyond his 
 wildest dreams. With a grateful heart he 
 therefore humbly accepted the good things 
 of life that now were his, and hoped that if 
 he only fulfilled his duties to the generous 
 Sultan with zeal and punctuality, he might 
 ever enjoy the confidence bestowed on him, 
 and live a quiet peaceable life at the court. 
 
 Poor Little Mook ! It was far from his 
 simple mind to suspect that whatever his 
 prowess had been, he of all people in the 
 world could arouse feelings of envy, malice, 
 and hatred in others. 
 
 But it unfortunately was so. His very 
 humility was misunderstood, and the more 
 the Sultan petted him the greater was the 
 resentment of the stalwart court functionaries, 
 who jealously despised him as a miserable 
 
 102 
 
Little Mook 
 
 dwarf, playing skilfully on the known super- 
 stitious weaknesses of an otherwise strong and 
 manly ruler. 
 
 Mook was not without the saving grace of 
 common sense. He was slow to judge ill, but 
 as time wore on he began to be convinced 
 that there were enemies about him, and that 
 he must see to himself if he would be safe. 
 
 Unfortunately perhaps for him, having no 
 heart to be malicious or vindictive, and think- 
 ing only how he might best reward evil with 
 good, he was reminded of his magic cane. 
 If it was really able to discover stores of gold 
 and silver for him, surely, he pondered, there 
 was still a chance of peace and happiness for 
 him among men who valued wealth above 
 all else in the world. 
 
 He had heard strange stories since he had 
 been at court of a former Sultan, who in 
 troublous times had buried a great hoard of 
 treasure in the palace grounds, and had died 
 without revealing the secret of its where- 
 abouts. 
 
 These stories had not interested Mook at 
 the time, but, calling them to mind now in 
 his less happy hours, he would go out of an 
 evening with his cane in his hand, and wander 
 about the most secluded parts of the park 
 and gardens. He had no luck, however, on 
 
 103 
 
Little Mook 
 
 his rambles, and was beginning to doubt the 
 virtues of his wand and the truth of the 
 gossip he had overheard, when, strolling 
 homewards one night through a remote copse, 
 his stick behaved in a most marvellously 
 eccentric fashion. He would have gone on 
 and submitted the curious attraction the 
 cane had for that particular spot to further 
 test at a more convenient time of the day, 
 but he could not move it from the ground, 
 and drew his long dagger out of its sheath 
 in order to dig the stick out of the earth to 
 which it seemed to be rooted. He dug, and 
 dug, and dug, tiU at last he came on something 
 hard. He bent down, scooped the earth 
 away with both his hands, and presently 
 lifted out with his cane what seemed to be 
 the lid of a great jar. Then, plunging in 
 his fingers, he drew out a handful of coins. 
 These were of gold. 
 
 He knelt down, filled his pockets, the ample 
 folds of his girdle, and even the baggy legs 
 of his pantaloons with the treasure, replaced 
 the lid of the jar and the earth over it, and 
 staggered to his feet. It was with some 
 difficulty that he got back to his room ; he 
 hardly knew how he managed the feat, but 
 congratulated himself on not attracting the 
 notice of the palace guards. 
 
 104 
 
Little Mook 
 
 If Mook had been less child-minded his 
 best plan on realising the extent of the wealth 
 with which he was now provided would have 
 been to have seized his cane and, calling on 
 his magic shoes, have bidden them convey 
 him as far away as possible from the risks of 
 incurring hatred and jealousy. Instead of 
 this, he foolishly believed that favour might 
 be bought with gold, and lavishly distributed 
 his money among his most malicious enemies. 
 
 There seemed to be no end to his liberality, 
 which finally became the common talk of the 
 more envious of his fellow court attendants. 
 
 " The little scoundrel must be a coiner. I 
 shall be wary of his gold in case it turns out to 
 be dross sooner or later," said the head cook. 
 
 " No, no ; it's gold right enough," the chief 
 slave-master maintained, and added signifi- 
 cantly : " He's a wily imp of a creature, and 
 knows how to play on the susceptibilities of 
 the Sultan ; that's the mischief of him and 
 what makes him so dangerous." 
 
 The High Treasurer, who had only too good 
 cause to be fearful of all dangerous influences, 
 and spoke from the fulness of his own heart, 
 said, with a derisive laugh : 
 
 " The puny monster is just a downright 
 , thief." 
 
 "I'm determined to get to the bottom of 
 105 
 
Little Mook 
 
 the mystery, and be done with this horrible 
 nightmare of a dwarf," said Korchuz, the 
 King's Cup-Bearer in Chief, and that very 
 night the Sultan, being in one of his most 
 waggish moods at his meal, Korchuz had his 
 opportunity. 
 
 " What's this long face of yours, my good 
 man ?" the Sultan asked, pushing aside the 
 goblet that Korchuz had just filled for the 
 third time. 
 
 " Long face, my Lord ?" 
 
 " Yes, upon my word, I could believe that 
 you were plotting to poison me." 
 
 " Heaven forfend. Master !" 
 
 " Drink it, then, to show your devotion, 
 and may it revive your spirits if it is un- 
 polluted !" 
 
 Korchuz swallowed the liquor at a gulp. 
 
 " That may prove what will satisfy your 
 Majesty, but the trial to which you are pleased 
 to submit me only confirms my worst sus- 
 picions." 
 
 " Your suspicions, man ! What sus- 
 picions ?" 
 
 " That I have been wretched enough to lose 
 favour in your benign sight." 
 
 " You are talking in riddles, Korchuz !" 
 
 " Nay, my Lord, but surely the sun has 
 ceased to shine for me when I, who have 
 
 106 
 
Little Mook 
 
 diligently and faithfixUy served you these 
 many years, receive none of your bounty, 
 while this newcomer, suddenly exalted beyond 
 his deserts to be your own privy runner and 
 messenger-in-chief, is loaded with riches from 
 your own royal hand." 
 
 " Riches ! . . . Mook rich ! . . . Pray 
 explain yourself at once." 
 
 Korchuz did explain. For fully half an 
 hour he poured out the tale of Mook's wealth 
 and the resentment it was provoking among 
 the Sultan's oldest and most devoted atten- 
 dants. 
 
 The Sultan grew more and more amazed as 
 he listened. 
 
 " Does my Lord High Treasurer know of 
 this ?" he asked. 
 
 " He does, gracious Master, and is not over 
 easj^ in his mind about where Mook gets his 
 money from. The coins are mostly of your 
 honoured father's reign, and there are evi- 
 dences that the royal treasure vaults have 
 lately been disturbed and rifled." 
 
 The Sultan's fury was no longer to be 
 restrained. He bade Korchuz immediately 
 fetch the Treasurer, raved at him for neglect- 
 ing his obvious duty of guarding the high 
 trust committed to his keeping, and ordered 
 him to set a diligent watch on Little Mook, 
 
 107 
 
Little Mook 
 
 and daily to report the results of his in- 
 vestigations. 
 
 The triumph of Mook's enemies was now 
 complete, and they had not to wait long 
 before the foolish little man, driven by the 
 sight of his dwindling store of gold, set out 
 one dark evening to replenish it. He had 
 dug up the earth, removed the lid of the jar, 
 and was busily engaged in filling his pockets 
 with money, when he was suddenly pounced 
 upon and hurried into the presence of the 
 Sultan. 
 
 The whole thing was so artfully contrived 
 that poor Little Mook could urge nothing in 
 his defence. He could now see quite well 
 how vain it was to have put his trust in 
 princes, and how true it was that riches could 
 not help a man to happiness, but his folly had 
 utterly undone him, and though he might 
 inwardly writhe at his generous Master's 
 rebukes and anger, a felon he was, and as a 
 felon he must sufEer imprisonment, disgrace, 
 and death. 
 
 Death ! 
 
 That was the hardest of the punishments 
 which long confinement in a lonely dungeon 
 forced him to contiemplate. 
 
 Death ! 
 
 Even an unhappy, misshapen, little mortal 
 108 
 
Little Mook 
 
 like Mook could find some joy, however scanty 
 it might be, in life ! He was too young to 
 die. To die ! Why should he die, he re- 
 flected, when he need only tell the simple 
 truth and live. The Sultan would take his 
 magic wand from him. What good was it to 
 him ? In death it could not enrich him, and 
 what, besides, were the greatest of riches to 
 him now ? Willingly would he endure hunger 
 and thirst, privation and need, if he might 
 only live, and as the days went by, the mere 
 love of life overpowered all other considera- 
 tions, and he besought as the only favour 
 that was left to him, one last and private 
 interview with the Sultan. 
 
 It was granted to him, and, throwing him- 
 self down at the great King's feet. Little Mook 
 told the plain story of his life, and how he had 
 come by the magic cane and his magic shoes. 
 
 Alas for human Avlsdom when once the 
 mind has been poisoned by slander ! 
 
 The Sultan listened attentively to Mook's 
 words. If ever a fault of conduct or im- 
 prudence of action freely confessed and 
 bitterly regretted was worthy of being con- 
 doned, Mook's simple tale and burning tears 
 should have wrung pity and forgiveness from 
 his offended Lord. But there was to be no 
 mercy for the little man unless he could prove 
 
 109 
 
Little Mook 
 
 himself to have been wronged, and though on 
 such proof his sentence of death might be 
 mitigated to banishment from the country, 
 he must forfeit his cane and his shoes as the 
 penalty of his wrongdoing. 
 
 Would his shoes and cane help him once 
 more and for the last time he might require 
 them, he wondered. 
 
 " Gracious Master !" he finally pleaded, 
 " how can a miserable wretch like me 
 assert his innocency in your sight without 
 such strength as has been denied me by 
 Nature, but granted to me by supernatural 
 means ?" 
 
 The Sultan pondered the matter seriously 
 for some minutes in silence. 
 
 " You ask " 
 
 " For my shoes and cane." 
 
 " That is impossible." 
 
 " Neither of them can be of any service to 
 you or anyone else at your court." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Try them, and prove them for yourself." 
 
 " I will, and I consent to spare your life 
 during the experiment." 
 
 Mook was to pine many a long day in his 
 dungeon cell while the Sultan tested the 
 magic powers of shoes and cane without any 
 results. He was forced to conduct the trials 
 
 110 
 
Little Mook 
 
 in secret, and well for him it was that he did 
 so, for nothing more ridiculous could have 
 been imagined than to see this mighty Prince 
 shod in these ungainly shoes, frisking and 
 gambolling about in futile attempts to run, 
 or handling the magic cane, and poking 
 stupidly and vainly in every nook and corner 
 of his palace, not only in quest of hidden 
 treasures, but in examining its virtues for 
 betraying the spots where he knew that gold 
 and precious stones were safely lurking. 
 
 Disheartened and disgusted by his fruitless 
 efforts, and believing that Mook had a par- 
 ticular way of dealing with the rebellious 
 things, the little man was suddenly sum- 
 moned one day to appear before his Master. 
 
 The Sultan was alone in the grounds of the 
 palace where Mook had chanced on the 
 treasure trove. He was flushed and tired 
 after his vain attempts for the twentieth 
 time or more to secure any satisfactory 
 results from the shoes and cane. 
 
 " Do you still value your life, monster ?" 
 he asked, his eyes flashing fire and his whole 
 frame trembling with rage. 
 
 " What should a man even so unhappy as 
 I prize more, most gracious Lord and Master?" 
 Mook answered humbly, prostrating himself. 
 " Then reveal the secret of this cane to me !" 
 Ill 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " It has no secret." 
 
 " You lie !" 
 
 " Nay, mighty Sultan, I learnt no secret 
 with it, for it has just been obedient to its 
 purpose in my hands." 
 
 " Prove it, then !" said the Sultan, flinging 
 the cane at the abject dwarf. 
 
 Mook picked up the cane, and slowly rose 
 to his feet. Up and down he probed with it 
 in out-of-the-way nooks and corners, almost 
 despairing that it would serve him in this 
 hour of trial, when he at last reached a spot 
 hard by where he had first discovered gold. 
 There it stuck firmly, and the Sultan hurried 
 up to help him wrest it from the ground. 
 
 " Fetch a spade from yonder tree," he 
 commanded, pointing to a cypress near by, 
 where he had left various tools with which 
 to lay bare the treasures he hoped to find. 
 Mook quickly obeyed, and again dug out his 
 stick, and with it the lid of another pot full 
 of gold coins. 
 
 " Strange ! Very strange !" the Sultan 
 mused. " I have been over that place a 
 dozen times or more, but the stick gave me 
 no indications of treasure." 
 
 " Pardon me, my Lord, but what is gold 
 or silver to you ?" 
 
 " What it is to all men." 
 112 
 
Little Mook 
 
 " Is there happiness in mere wealth ?" 
 
 " There is happiness in possession of it." 
 
 " Being rich beyond the dreams of avarice, 
 you really say so ?" 
 
 " I say it." 
 
 " Then you esteem righteousness, plain 
 dealing, and all else as of no account." 
 
 " Riches command everything. But have 
 done with your philosophising. True, I can 
 detect no peculiar manner in your dealing 
 with that cane ; let me see now how you 
 control those shoes." 
 
 Mook could hardly believe his good fortune 
 when the Sultan handed him his ungainly, 
 ill-fitting, but beloved pair of shoes. 
 
 "High and mighty Sultan!" he said, dis- 
 creetly retreating to a safe distance, " I 
 honoured, loved, and respected you with all 
 truth and sincerity. Noble and great though 
 you are, your heart is not right. You are a 
 man even as I am, but as a Sultan you should 
 be an example to others, and the friend and 
 protector of those less fortunately placed in 
 the world than yourself. My shoes are not 
 for such as you. Good-bye !" 
 
 The words were hardly out of Mook's mouth 
 before he was speeding away over hill and 
 dale. 
 
 The Sultan had reason to curse his folly 
 
 113 H 
 
Little Mook 
 
 at the loss of so good and devoted a servant 
 as Mook had been. Digging up the pot of 
 gold which the magic wand had revealed, he 
 discovered that it was part of the great hoard 
 which his father had buried when the country 
 was invaded, that his Lord High Treasurer 
 had dealt falsely with him and had been 
 robbing him for many years, that his chief 
 cook was privy to these thefts, that the slave- 
 master was a tyrant and a knave, and that 
 Korchuz, his chief cup-bearer, would have 
 poisoned him long since if he could but have 
 derived any advantage from his death. 
 
 Having laid bare all these wrongs and 
 purged his court of the offenders, the Sultan 
 published far and wide the promise of a great 
 reward to him who should find and bring 
 Little Mook back to the palace. 
 
 Whether the little man ever heard how 
 much he was sought after or not, certain it 
 was that he had no desire to leave his father's 
 house, and was content to live a frugal exist- 
 ence in peace and quiet, disturbed only by 
 the thoughtless conduct of foolish boys, rather 
 than to undergo the risks and dangers of a 
 naughty world in the useless search for fortune 
 and happiness. 
 
 114 
 
rince 
 
THE FALSE PRINCE 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a young 
 fellow called Labakan, who was learn- 
 ing his trade in the workshops of the 
 most famous tailor in the great city of 
 Alexandria. 
 
 There was something altogether peculiar 
 about Labakan; to begin with, unlike his fellow- 
 apprentices, he was a tall, broad-chested, well- 
 made youth ; then there was such an air of 
 distinction and refinement about him, the 
 last person in the world, you would have said, 
 who was destined by nature to spend his days 
 sitting cross-legged in a dingy workroom, 
 breaking his back over hemming or stitching, 
 and wearing out his eyesight Avith fine sewing 
 and embroidery. And yet, strangely enough, 
 he was by no means a bad tailor ; in fact, it 
 was most astonishing how neatly and deftly 
 his big arms and clumsy-looking fingers 
 could work. He seemed perfectly contented, 
 
 117 
 
The False Prince 
 
 too, with his humble lot, and things might 
 have gone on well with him if only he could 
 have been deaf to the foolish talk which he 
 innocently provoked. 
 
 " Labakan has his aristocratic looks on 
 to-day," was the common remark of his 
 work-mates, when he happened to be in a 
 thoughtful mood. 
 
 " Anything wrong with your State affairs?" 
 the Master had a habit of asking, by way of 
 rebuking the boy's mistakes. 
 
 No joke about Labakan was ever con- 
 sidered satisfactorj?^ without some reference 
 to his royal look and bearing. Labakan had 
 grown up unconscious that his proportions 
 were more imposing, his carriage more stately, 
 his demeanour more striking than the char- 
 acteristics which distinguished his companion 
 apprentices ; and, being but human, in spite 
 of all his native common sense, he allowed 
 the poison of the kindly- meant darts of satire 
 and good-comradeship to swell and fester 
 into wounds of arrogance and conceit. 
 
 His lapses into absent-mindedness became 
 more frequent, for the pleasure of hearing 
 himself described as " aristocratic." " Affairs 
 of State " occupied him ever more and more, 
 and in order that he might have no doubt 
 about the impression he created, he fashioned 
 
 118 
 
The False Prince 
 
 himself a very sumptuous garment of his 
 own design, in which to attend the mosque 
 on Fridays, and afterwards to parade the 
 streets and gathering-places of the holiday 
 crowds. 
 
 What balm to his soul to catch the whis- 
 pered admiration of his fellow- worshippers, 
 to overhear the subdued compliments of the 
 passers-by, to note the fingers that were 
 pointed at him, and to surprise the increduloiis 
 glances that were directed towards him ! 
 
 " A tailor . . . that chap . . . Non- 
 sense ! . . ." 
 
 " A tailor's man . . . that fine fellow 
 there. . . . Why, it's a positive disgrace to 
 humanity ! . . ." 
 
 " Did you say a tailor ... a tailor's appren- 
 tice ? . . . There must be some mystery about 
 him, if ever there was any truth in fairy- 
 tales ! . . ." 
 
 This was the sweetest bit of flattery to 
 enter Labakan's listening ears. 
 
 A mystery ! Fairy-tales ! 
 
 Well, why not ? To be sure, he quite 
 well remembered the little up-Nile village 
 where he had lived as a boy and where he 
 had first been taught to ply a needle, but 
 was that puny, bandy-legged village tailor 
 really his father ? He was a dear good soul 
 119 
 
The False Prince 
 
 and Labakan honestly loved him , but how 
 did that wizened, dwarfish father of his ever 
 come by a son of such stature and propor- 
 tions, such gifts and graces as those which 
 distinguished Labakan ? 
 
 As for fairy-tales, was it mere childishness 
 to believe in them ? Did fairies just exist 
 in imagination, or were they real creatures, 
 as active as when the world was young, as 
 freakish and as kind ? 
 
 Labakan thought and thought of these 
 things till he could think of nothing else, and 
 day by day he grew dreamier and dreamier, 
 slacker at his work, and prouder in his 
 manner. 
 
 The Master noticed the change in him, 
 watched his idle, listless moods, his careless 
 work, and his overbearing manners. Time in 
 his busy shop was too precious to be wasted ; 
 lazy people were otherwise unprofitable, too ; 
 consequently, he spared neither wrath nor 
 abuse in his efforts to bring Labaan to his 
 senses. 
 
 But Labakan was proof against the Master's 
 rage and the ill-will roused by his arrogance 
 among his fellow-apprentices. He was more 
 than ever convinced that there was a mystery 
 about his origin, and that it was part of the 
 strange discipline he must undergo to endure 
 
 120 
 
The False Prince 
 
 rebuke and hatred in order that he might 
 shine more brilliantly when he at last came 
 by his own, and stood revealed in all the 
 pomp and majesty of his greatness. 
 
 These and similar musings had never 
 occupied him more absorbingly than when 
 he was especially set to work on embroidering 
 a gorgeous robe which Prince Selim, the future 
 ruler of Egypt, was to wear on a great State 
 occasion. 
 
 The Master wondered to see the care and 
 industry Avith which he worked. It seemed 
 as if he could not tire at the job, and for 
 nights and nights, long after the others 
 had left the shop, Labakan was nimbly sewing 
 away at the marvellous patterns which his 
 taste and skill had designed and elaborated, 
 to cover the yoke and sleeves of the garment. 
 
 What the Master did not see was the pride 
 with which Labakan nightly fitted the splendid 
 robe on himself, and the airs and graces with 
 which he posed before the looking-glasses, or 
 strutted up and down the long workroom, 
 converted by a glowing imagination into the 
 State apartment of a King's palace. 
 
 How exactly and beautifully the thing fitted 
 him, and how much better it became him? 
 with his fine cast of features, than it suited the 
 holJoAv-eyed, surly-faced real Prince Selim ! 
 121 
 
The False Prince 
 
 Was it the fairies of his high destiny who 
 kept urging him on, or the infatuation of a 
 misguided spirit which prompted him to flee 
 with the robe, and put his fate once and for all 
 to the test ? 
 
 He did not know ; he could not know ; but 
 flee he did one night, away and away, beyond 
 the gates of Alexandria and out into strange 
 and unknown regions. The day dawned 
 surprising him in lone places ; and on and on 
 he wandered, till he came among men who 
 marvelled to meet so majestic and stately 
 a figure a-foot on the high road. He heard 
 them talking about him, admiring him, 
 questioning one another as to who he could be, 
 and ever debating the problem as to why he 
 was content to walk. He felt in his pockets, 
 and was glad to find that in his haste to escape 
 from the tailor's, he had not forgotten to take 
 his meagre savings with him. In the first 
 town he came to, he, therefore, bought himself 
 a horse. It was a quiet, rather decrepit old 
 beast, but he gladly reflected that no other 
 horse could for the time being have suited 
 him better, since with all his fine robe and 
 finer air, he knew but little of horsemanship, 
 and a mettlesome, showy animal would soon 
 have laid his honour in the dust. 
 
 One fine morning, as he was slowly plodding 
 122 
 
The False Prince 
 
 along on the sorry steed he had. named Moorva, 
 he was overtaken by a young gallant, who 
 bade him " good-morrow " in a friendly way, 
 and seemed inclined to be talkative. Labakan 
 was well-disposed to be amiable, for he was 
 rather tired of his own company, and the 
 stranger was a good-looking, well-dressed, 
 and smartly-mounted fellow, with whom it 
 would be to his credit to travel. 
 
 The new acquaintance turned out to be of 
 the chattiest and most communicative. He 
 said his name was Omar, that his present 
 object in travelling was to while away time, 
 though he was in the main directing his course 
 towards a definite goal, where he hoped to 
 learn something of importance to his future. 
 
 Labakan was captivated by the man's 
 candour, and much struck by the peculiar 
 errand on which he was bent. Prudence 
 naturally counselled him to be very reticent 
 about his own affairs, but he gave himself 
 out to be of noble birth, with great prospects 
 in life, and he talked so glibly, that Omar 
 took a fancy to him, and was delighted to have 
 him for a travelling companion. 
 
 Before many days were over, the two 
 had become fast friends, though in the case 
 of Labakan, very selfish motives were at the 
 bottom of his feelings. Omar was rich and 
 
 123 
 
The False Prince 
 
 generous with his money, besides, Omar had 
 a secret which Labakan could somehow not 
 help connecting with his own mysterious 
 destiny. He cunningly tried many little tricks 
 to gain the knowledge he desired, but Omar 
 was too high-minded to be even suspicious 
 of him, and it was not till the time came when 
 he foresaw the necessity of separating from 
 Labakan that he freely and openly told him 
 the true story of his life. 
 
 It was one hot summer afternoon, when they 
 were resting in a cool, shady grove, and Omar 
 was for once rather sad and silent. 
 
 Labakan had upbraided him for his melan- 
 choly. 
 
 " Well, my good friend," Omar said at last, 
 " if I really am dull and uncompanionable, 
 it is for thinking of you." 
 
 " How so ? I should grieve more than 
 words can express to make your shortest 
 moment unhappy." 
 
 " I know you would ! It is not through 
 any action of yours that I have cause to sorrow, 
 but owing to the circumstance that to-morrow 
 morning we must part." 
 
 " Why part ?" 
 
 " Because I am within four days of the 
 end of all my journeyings, and I must hasten 
 forward and alone to my fate." 
 
 124 
 
The False Prince 
 
 " What fate ?" 
 
 " Well, I can tell you now, for surely you 
 have proved yourself a trusty companion, 
 though, strictly speaking, I ought to tell no 
 one about my strange history. ... I have 
 never known father or mother, but was 
 brought up to believe myself the nephew of 
 Elfi Pasha of Cairo." 
 
 " Elfi Pasha !" Labakan exclaimed, with 
 unguarded surprise. 
 
 " Ah ! I see you have heard of that great 
 and good man, whose overthrow and murder 
 his enemies plotted. No better, kinder, or 
 wiser man than he ever lived, and when he 
 was carried home, stabbed with many wounds 
 and dying, he sent for me, and told me in 
 strict secrecy that I was in no way a relative 
 of his ; but that I was the son and heir of a 
 mighty King, who was his own greatest friend 
 and protector. An evil star had attended 
 my birth, and the astrologers of my father's 
 kingdom had cast my horoscope in terrible 
 times, unless I was sent away from my home 
 and kept out of the country of my origin, till 
 my twenty-first birthday. On that anni- 
 versary I was to go to the pillar of El Serujah, 
 eastwards, on the boundaries of the desert 
 of Arabia, and with this dagger in my hand, 
 I was fearlessly to approach whoever it wa« 
 
 125 
 
The False Prince 
 
 who met me, and say : ' Here I am whom ye 
 seek !' If the reply was, ' Praised be the 
 Prophet !' I was to be led straightway to the 
 man who was my father, and all would be 
 well with me. Elfi Pasha told me this, 
 blessed me, and died in my arms. For 
 months I have been roaming the waste places 
 of the land, waiting for the fateful day to 
 arrive. Yours is the only comradeship that 
 has cheered me, perhaps because, if I may be 
 allowed to guess, like me, you are waiting to 
 come by your own. Let me wish you success ; 
 who knows how we shall meet again ? 
 Meanwhile, remember me, and let us now be 
 happy for the few hours we are together." 
 
 It was a generous speech, and Omar made 
 a brave show of cheerfulness, which Labakan 
 found it hard to imitate, for dark thoughts 
 were seething in his jealous brain. 
 
 How dark they were he did not know, till 
 he awoke the following morning with the first 
 faint glimmer of the dawn. Close beside him, 
 wrapped in the deepest sleep, that was doubt- 
 less lulled by pleasant dreams of his future, 
 lay Omar, with the hilt of the dagger which 
 was to be the token of his recognition peeping 
 out of the folds of his loosened girdle. 
 
 A mad impulse suddenly seized on Labakan ; 
 he sprang lightly to his feet, stealthily reached 
 
 126 
 
The False Prince 
 
 forward, and deftly snatched up the precious 
 dagger. For one horrible moment the glitter- 
 ing blade was poised in the air ready to be 
 plunged into Omar's breast, but he slept so 
 well that even Labakan's base nature, in- 
 flamed by all its lust and passion for power 
 and place, recoiled from so gross an act of 
 treachery. He slunk cautiously away in- 
 stead to the place in the open where the 
 horses had been tethered for the night, 
 saddled and bridled Omar's steed, on which 
 he quickly mounted, and, dragging his own 
 wretched hack after him, made off Avith all 
 haste across the rolling plain. 
 
 Not till the sun was high up in the heavens, 
 and he had traversed many miles, did he 
 consider it safe to set Moorva free. The old 
 beast only hampered his swifter movements, 
 and even if Omar chanced upon the horse 
 now, it could hardly help him to make up 
 for lost time. 
 
 On and on Labakan sped, urged by all the 
 demons of pride and ambition to be a fearless, 
 though ungainly, rider. He knew the trysting 
 place, El Serujah, well, through hearing much 
 about it from stories told by an Arab appren- 
 tice in the tailor's workshop ; and, though he 
 had four whole days from the time he had 
 started to reach it, the great lonely pillar 
 127 
 
The False Prince 
 
 loomed up in the desert before his astonished 
 eyes on the third evening of his headlong ride. 
 
 A grove of palm-trees and a bubbling spring 
 within sight of the lofty landmark invited 
 him to repose and reflection. He was ex- 
 hausted enough to be glad of a rest, but it 
 was some time before his thoughts would grant 
 him the calm of mind with which to enjoy it. 
 If he slept at all, it was only in fitful, broken 
 snatches, till soothing voices began to whisper 
 to his troubled heart that he was a fool to 
 vex himself. Had he not always suspected 
 a great mystery about his fate, they said, and 
 here was the mystery solved to his unthinking 
 consciousness. He was Omar; that other 
 ought to have been the tailor's man. A 
 wicked fairy had somehow interchanged the 
 two, conveying the one to Elfi Pasha, and him, 
 the rightful inheritor of greatness, to a mean 
 hut in a lowly village. How dark and in- 
 scrutable were the ways of destiny ! Else, why 
 should he ever have been forced into the 
 unsought companionship of that other, and 
 in one supreme moment of inspiration have 
 been prompted against all the first instincts 
 of his meek human nature to wrest his fate 
 from the grudging hand of circumstance ? 
 
 Waking, thus refreshed in spirit and strength- 
 ened in purpose, Labakan gazed intently at 
 
 128 
 
The False Prince 
 
 El Serujah on the fourth morning of his 
 adventure. 
 
 The tall pillar stands alone on a great 
 artificial mound in a wild and barren tract 
 on the confines of the Arabian desert. As 
 Labakan looked, he soon saw a great pro- 
 cession of horses and camels appearing on the 
 eastern horizon. Arriving at the foot of the 
 mound the vast array of men and beasts 
 came to a standstill, and a scene of bustle 
 and commotion ensued. Men were running 
 to and fro, unloading and pitching splendid 
 tents, and making every preparation for what 
 was obviously to be an occasion of great 
 pomp and ceremony. Presently a number of 
 stately - garbed personages detached them- 
 selves from the general concourse on the 
 plain, and proceeded to ascend the mound, 
 ranging themselves as they went into ever- 
 shortening lines on either side of a broad 
 gangway. At the top of this animated triangle, 
 and sitting at the base of the piUar itself, was 
 a solitary figure. It was a marvellous sight, 
 and as Labakan looked, he began to perceive 
 that all movement had ceased, and that the 
 imposing assembly was waiting as if in hushed 
 expectation for something to happen. 
 
 There was no possibility of mistaking the 
 import of that solemn and anxious pause. 
 
 129 I 
 
The False Prince 
 
 Just for one short moment his better self 
 shrank from the cruel deceit he was tempted 
 to practise, but the voice of ambition goaded 
 him on. The die was cast. Had he not been 
 the true Omar, would capricious Fortune or 
 relentless Fate have brought him to that 
 supreme crisis ? He flung himself on to his 
 horse, took his courage in both hands, spurred 
 the animal into a gallop, and brought it 
 gallantly up on its haunches in front of the 
 long line which barred his further progress. 
 With a dash that surprised no one more than 
 himself, he was on his feet, and throwing the 
 reins to the wind, he defiantly made straight 
 for the open passage to the summit of the 
 mound. He had not gone many paces, when 
 two lusty stalwarts barred Ms way. He looked 
 them up and down with his most supercihous 
 air and, dra^^ing the dagger from his side, 
 he exclaimed, as he presented it to them : 
 
 " Here I am, whom ye seek !" 
 
 " Praised be the Prophet !" they replied, 
 ranging themselves meekly on either side of 
 him, and escorting him with every sign of defer- 
 ence, up past the admiring lines of spectators, 
 into the presence of the noble old man who 
 was sitting on the steps of the piUar. 
 
 " Your name, friend ?" 
 
 " Omar, my father !" was the answer, and 
 130 
 
■illlliTlJilfillirPil'iiBiiiiiiir 
 
 Hl His lied formard, clasp- 
 ing ihc great Chiefs knees" 
 
The False Prince 
 
 spreading out his arms, he rushed forward, 
 and fell, clasping the great chief's knees. 
 
 The latter bent his head lovingly over him, 
 completely mastered for a brief space by his 
 emotions ; then, rising slowly to his feet, 
 he raised the prostrate form of his son, and 
 there, in the sight of all that glittering throng 
 of statesmen, courtiers, and officials, touched 
 to tears by the devotion expressed in their 
 Lord's looks and gestures, he embraced his 
 Omar long and tenderly. 
 
 The joyful reunion was scarce accomplished, 
 and father and son were but preparing to 
 descend the mound for the feast that was to 
 take place in the tents below, when a solitary 
 figure was seen to be racing wildly across the 
 plain towards the spot. As he approached, 
 he was observed to be waving his arms fran- 
 tically, and soon the astonished spectators 
 could hear him shouting madly : 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! stop !" 
 
 " What's the matter with the man ?" every- 
 body naturally inquired, and the great chief 
 or King turned to his newly-found son with 
 the same natural question. 
 
 " Father, alas ! I was indiscreet enough in 
 my wanderings not to follow the injunctions 
 of your poor friend Elfi Pasha ; and this poor 
 fellow, whom I now recognise, is a maniac, 
 
 131 
 
The False Prince 
 
 who has heard my story and taken it into 
 his demented head to believe that he is I." 
 
 This ready explanation, so glibly uttered, 
 was quickly overheard by those about the 
 two, and as quickly passed down the lines of 
 astonished men. 
 
 " A maniac ! A maniac !" 
 
 The words were repeated, and when the 
 distraught creature dashed panting and 
 frienzied into the outer lines, the sturdy 
 guards soon surrounded him, and bound him 
 helpless, though furiously struggling. 
 
 It was in vain he protested loudly and 
 foaming with rage, that he was the real Om.ar, 
 and that the villain who had usurped his place 
 was a base-born knave who had robbed him 
 of his dagger while he slept, mounted his horse, 
 and stolen a march on him. 
 
 He was a maniac, for so had the Prince 
 described him. As a maniac, he must, 
 according to the custom that prevailed, be 
 tenderly entreated. Still, he must be put 
 out of harm's way, so they tightened his 
 bands, and while the throng was feasting and 
 holding high revel, he was lying powerless 
 in the dust and gnashing his teeth. 
 
 When the banquet was over, the new Prince 
 was ceremoniously introduced by his father to 
 the lords and great officers of his kingdom. 
 
 132 
 
The False Prince 
 
 They did homage to him, kissed his hand, 
 admired the loftiness of his stature, the pride 
 of his mien, and the courteous grace and 
 elegance of his manner. 
 
 Towards evening the signal was given to 
 strike the tents. For a brief space there was 
 a scene of confused haste, but soon the 
 procession was formed in due order of rank 
 and dignity, the Prince and his father being 
 borne in a gilded palanquin, lined with blue 
 silk and carpeted with the richest velvet, 
 which was slung between two ambling mules. 
 
 As they travelled eastwards, the happy old 
 father had much to talk about to his son. 
 He told him that his name was Sa-ood, that 
 he was the Sultan of the Wahabees, and that 
 he had lived long before his prayer was 
 granted and a son was born to inherit his 
 throne. By a sad mischance, however, no 
 sooner were his hopes of an heir fulfilled, than 
 his astrologers announced that Heaven had 
 decreed to postpone his happiness till his boy 
 was twenty-one years of age. Bowed down 
 with sorrow, he had inquired diligently if 
 there was no means of revoking the stern 
 doom, but his wise men had declared that 
 unless he banished his son out of his presence 
 for the specified time, disaster, destruction, 
 and ruin would overtake his house and 
 
 133 
 
The False Prince 
 
 kingdom. In the sadness of his heart he had 
 then bethought himself of his childhood's 
 friend, Elfi Pasha. No man better than Elfi, 
 ever wise in understanding, prudent in counsel, 
 just, upright, and honourable in his life and 
 dealings, could have been selected to assume 
 a father's place in the up-bringing and 
 training of a son. That his choice of a 
 guardian had been well-made was confirmed 
 by the evidences of his senses, and, clasping 
 his boy again and again to his breast, he 
 blessed him with many tears and smiles, 
 and bade him recount the story of his exile 
 and the terrible end of Elfi. 
 
 The task of furnishing a record of his life 
 was not so hard as might be imagined, for 
 the real Omar had been most communicative 
 about the details of his past life, and had 
 never been tired of praising and honouring 
 the memory of Elfi. As regards the calamity 
 of Elfi's death, all Egypt had been thrilled 
 and shocked by the news of the revolt in 
 Cairo, and the assassination of its great 
 governor. 
 
 After many days of travel through the 
 desert, eastwards and then southwards, the 
 procession reached a land of trees and 
 wells, cultivated fields, villages and towns. 
 The route was now one long triumphal 
 
 134 
 
The False Prince 
 
 progress ; people left their work, and rushed 
 out into the roads, shouting and crying : 
 
 " Long live Sultan Sa-ood ! Long Hve 
 Prince Omar !" 
 
 But the greatest triumph was to come in 
 the Sultan's capital. Here the streets were 
 all gaily garlanded and festooned with flowers 
 and greenery, the windows and balconies 
 were hung with gaudy stuffs and richly- 
 woven carpets and fabrics. Thousands of 
 throats were yelling themselves hoarse, and 
 high above every other name the cries of 
 " Omar ! Omar ! Omar !" resounded with 
 ever-increasing enthusiasm. And as the long 
 line passed slowly on its way to the palace, 
 the sight of a youth bound fast to his horse 
 which was led on either side by a soldier, 
 provoked feelings of surprise and pity. 
 
 " Who is he ? What has he done ? Why 
 is he a prisoner ? How sad to see him in 
 misery on such an auspicious day !" 
 
 And the answer to the eager questions was 
 always the same. "He is a maniac ! a 
 dangerous fellow ! an impostor ! He pretends 
 to be Omar, and nothing we can say or do 
 will move him to deny the claim he per- 
 sistently asserts. Who knows what we have 
 been spared through Providence delaying his 
 arrival at El Serujah ?" 
 
 135 
 
The False Prince 
 
 Such and other remarks of the kind were to 
 wound the ears and stab the heart of poor 
 Omar on a day when he ought to have been 
 among the gladdest and the proudest. No 
 wonder that grief and pain had sadly dis- 
 torted his handsome face, and that, all un- 
 kempt and dishevelled as he was, there was 
 little that could be described as princely or 
 high-born about his appearance. 
 
 Arrived at the palace, he was safely locked 
 up in a dismal cell, while the Sultan and his 
 son were sitting in the throne-room and 
 receiving the congratulations of all the great 
 men of the city. 
 
 There was feasting and revelling in the 
 capital that night; the^streets were illuminated, 
 and the crowds, in their merriest moods, came 
 and went in front of the palace, shouting : 
 " Omar ! Long live Omar !" 
 
 Away in the women's apartments, Omar's 
 mother was waiting anxiously to receive him. 
 News had come to her of all that had happened, 
 and, peeping through her lattice, she had 
 caught glimpses of her husband and child, 
 and also of that pathetic figure in the rear of 
 the procession. To her pained inquiries also, 
 the same answer had been given — " He is a 
 maniac, a dangerous fellow, an impostor !" 
 and, though she could not but rejoice that the 
 
 136 
 
The False Prince 
 
 mad youth had done her son no harm, her 
 tender soul was filled with pity for his afflic- 
 tion, and the picture of his misery tinged the 
 joy she should have felt with an oppressive 
 sense of melancholy. As she waited in her 
 State-room for the glad moment which was to 
 unite her to her boy, her motherly heart 
 revived all the thoughts and anxieties which 
 had marked the long, cruel years of her 
 separation from her only child. Day and 
 night she had not ceased to think of him, 
 and to wonder how he was prospering. Love 
 lent wings to her fancy, and over and over 
 again, waking or dreaming, she had spanned 
 the intervals of space and was with the dear 
 object of her thoughts. She had seen him 
 grow up, slowly change from infancy into 
 boyhood, and from boyhood into youth ; she 
 had heard his baby cries, ministered oft in 
 spirit to his needs and necessities, solaced 
 him in his griefs and encouraged him in his 
 hopes. Her fanciful impressions had shaped 
 themselves into definite and distinct forms 
 and shapes. Poor, weary, waiting mother ! 
 Would the reality approach ever so remotely 
 to the lineaments and characteristics with 
 which imagination had endowed her son ? 
 
 The door suddenly opened and he stood 
 before her. 
 
 137 
 
The False Prince 
 
 Tall, handsome, imposing, he undoubtedly 
 was, but the joy which radiated from every 
 look and feature of her face gradually died 
 away, and she drew herself up in a stern, 
 frigid attitude. 
 
 " Mother !" the Prince exclaimed, darting 
 forward to embrace her ; but she repelled 
 him with an imperious wave of her hand. 
 
 " This is no child of mine, Sa-ood !" she 
 said, ignoring the youth at her feet. 
 
 " No child of yours ? This is Omar !" the 
 Sultan replied. 
 
 " Omar, let him be ; there are a thousand 
 Omars in your capital alone, but not one of 
 them is my son, any more than he who stands 
 before me." 
 
 " Woman !" the Sultan exclaimed, with ill- 
 concealed impatience, " will you deny your off- 
 spring against the evidences of his identity ?" 
 
 " He is not my child !" was the answer. 
 
 " But he is my son and heir !" 
 
 " He deceives you !" 
 
 " Mother ! mother !" the youth cried 
 piteously. 
 
 " No, I do not' acknowledge you and never 
 shall !" the Sultana answered fiercely. " You 
 may tempt the doting heart of a fond and 
 foolish man, but you cannot beguile the 
 affections of a woman who did not bear you, 
 
 138 
 
The False Prince 
 
 whose love never nurtured you, and whose 
 whole being shrinks from you." 
 
 The Sultan furiously expostulated, raged 
 stormed, and threatened, but she, who was 
 usually an obedient, submissive wife, refused to 
 listen to his words, or to be quailed by his anger. 
 
 " I am surely accursed by Heaven !" 
 Sa-ood finally exclaimed, " for no sooner have 
 I found my son, than Fate deprives my wife 
 of her senses." 
 
 He stooped down, bade the Prince rise, 
 and was turning to leave the apartment, when 
 the door was violently burst open, and the 
 frenzied captive, his clothes rent by his 
 desperate struggles with his guards, his face 
 and arms all scarred, wounded, and bleeding, 
 rushed in, and fell at the Sultana's feet. 
 
 " Mother, you know me ! Mother, save 
 me ! save me !" 
 
 With a piercing cry, and to the utter 
 bewilderment and consternation of the Sultan 
 his wife staggered forward, threw herself on 
 the prostrate form, and with tears and sobs 
 hugged him to her bosom. 
 
 " Omar ! Omar, son !" she cried. 
 
 " Great Allah ! what madness is this ?" the 
 
 Sultan thundered, and the guards having 
 
 now entered, he denounced them in tones of 
 
 furious anger for letting the maniac escape, 
 
 139 
 
The False Prince 
 
 and, dashing forward, he tore mother and son 
 apart, and dehvered the unhappy youth to 
 his captors. 
 
 " Take him away, load him with the 
 heaviest chains, and imprison him in the 
 deepest dungeon !" 
 
 What a mournful end to a gladsome day ! 
 The news of what had happened soon spread 
 about in the palace, casting a depressing 
 gloom of terror and foreboding on aU minds 
 and banishing sleep and rest from every 
 eyelid. 
 
 Of the two beings who shared the responsi- 
 bility for creating this distressful state of 
 things, the new Prince, tossing feverishly on his 
 billowy couch in a luxurious chamber, must 
 surely have suffered more than the hapless 
 man who, aching in every bruised limb, was 
 groaning under the weight of his heavy fetters 
 in a hard-paved, dank, and loathsome cell. 
 
 But, alas ! for the former, the ever-flattering 
 fairy voices whispered on that the die was 
 cast, that the dread workings of Fate must be 
 accomplished, and that if the other was called 
 to endure pain and humiliation, the blame 
 was on those who had wilfully or thought- 
 lessly thwarted the will of destiny, and had 
 interchanged or confused two innocent babes. 
 
 Day came, revealing once more to the tailor 
 140 
 
The False Prince 
 
 Prince's dazzled senses the full splendour of 
 his proud state and lofty condition. 
 
 It was, therefore, with something even more 
 noble, dignified, and commanding than the 
 air which had distinguished him on his tri- 
 umphal entry into the capital, that he 
 appeared before the Sultan in answer to the 
 royal summons. 
 
 Sa-ood was not alone. Sitting apart from 
 him and wearing, if not a joyful, yet a more 
 resigned and pacified look than on the night 
 before, was the Sultana. 
 
 Sa-ood watched with ill-concealed pleasure 
 the majestic progress of the Prince towards 
 them, the imperious stamp of his features, and 
 the respectful, yet haughtily unconstrained 
 manner of his approach and greetings. 
 
 " Peace be with you, my son !" he exclaimed 
 fondly embracing him. " You have slept well, 
 I hope ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear father, never better. May all 
 blessings attend you and my dear mother !" 
 
 " Sit down, my son," the old man continued, 
 leading him to his side on the divan. 
 
 " Ever obedient to your gracious wish, 
 father, I wait your further will," was the 
 courteous reply. 
 
 They talked for a while about this and 
 that, the Sultana meanwhile observing a 
 
 141 
 
The False Prince 
 
 discreet silence, though the Prince tried 
 gallantly to engage her in the conversation. 
 
 A quarter of an hour or so had slipped by, 
 when Sa-ood tactfully steered the intercourse 
 on to the subject of the pretender's claims. 
 
 " He is a maniac, I suppose ?" he inquired, 
 in the most casual tone. 
 
 " I grieve to say he must be." 
 
 " A tailor by trade ?" 
 
 " Yes, and by name Labakan." 
 
 " Did. you know him before meeting him in 
 the desert ?" 
 
 " I saw him in his famous master's shop 
 when I went with Elfi Pasha to Alexandria, 
 not many months ago. We were both struck 
 by his appearance at the time, and we heard, 
 on inquiring from his master, that he was a 
 youth of fanciful imagination and aristocratic 
 pretensions." 
 
 " Was he skilful at his work ?" 
 
 " That depended much on his mood, it 
 would appear." 
 
 Sa-ood stroked his long white beard thought- 
 fully, and glanced furtively at the Sultana, 
 whose face remained calm and impassive. 
 
 " My son !" the old man observed at length, 
 " this misguided man who seeks to usurp your 
 name and station has been foolish enough to 
 supplicate the mother, who denies your birth, 
 
 142 
 
The False Prince 
 
 to submit him to a strange test. He says 
 that he will challenge you to a contest with 
 the needle, and will abide by the result. If his 
 work is better than yours, you are the Prince ; 
 if your work is better than his, you are the 
 tailor. Will you accept the terms which alone 
 will satisfy your deluded mother's scruples 
 about acknowledging your claims ?" 
 
 " Gracious father, but a short time ago I 
 declared my humble and filial devotion to 
 your will ; do you really consent to such a 
 trial ?" 
 
 " I needs must in peaceful vindication of 
 your superior claims." 
 
 ' ' Then I consent. What is the test to be ?" 
 
 " The embroidery of a State robe in three 
 days." 
 
 " Must I really stoop to such base skill ?" 
 
 " You must." 
 
 " If his work is better than yours, you are 
 the Prince ; if your work is better than his, 
 you are the tailor ; and three days in which the 
 matter is to be decided." 
 
 " I — a taUor — for three days ?" 
 
 " Do you hear that. Sultana ?" Sa-ood 
 asked, with a light heart. 
 
 "I hear it, my lord, and will faithfully 
 abide by the decision of skill." 
 
 The Prince sighed deeply and bowed him- 
 143 
 
The False Prince 
 
 self ceremoniously out of the royal presence 
 of his father and mother. 
 
 Once back in his apartments he had not 
 long to wait for the proof that he was not 
 mistaken about the challenge. A royal robe, 
 plain and unadorned, was left in his chambers, 
 with skeins of variegated silks and a bookful 
 of the choicest needles. 
 
 How vexatious and repulsive that he should 
 have to return to the mean toil he trusted to 
 have abandoned for ever ! For hours and 
 hours he sat moodily before the hideous 
 thing, his whole soul in utter rebellion against 
 the task he was called upon to perform. The 
 doors were fast locked, and the windows 
 too high above the ground to make escape 
 possible, even if such a course could have been 
 wise. 
 
 No ; sanely and deliberately considered, 
 there was no mistaking the reality of the 
 sordid trial imposed upon him : if Prince he 
 was to be, and not for ever a tailor's drudge, 
 he must work. 
 
 And so, on the third day, remembering how 
 urgent it was that he should bestir himself, 
 he cast away all doubt and hesitation, gloom 
 and despondency, and set to work as he had 
 never worked before. 
 
 The sun was dipping towards the west, 
 144 
 
The False Prince 
 
 gilding the domes and crescents of the great 
 capital with its departing glory, when the 
 doors of his princely apartment were flung 
 open, and he was meekly bidden to appear 
 before the Sultan. 
 
 He hastily snatched up the royal vestment, 
 alarmed that he had so heedlessly neglected 
 to finish the embroidery of it, and, with a 
 remorse-stricken face wholly unlike his proud 
 mien, he appeared in the great throne-room 
 of the Sultan. Nobles and chieftains thronged 
 the vast space from end to end ; all that was 
 greatest and best in his father's realm was 
 gathered to witness the upshot of this supreme 
 test of worth and dignity. 
 
 " Well, dear son !" the Sultan said, in his 
 gentlest, most fatherly tones, " how has time 
 fared with you ?" 
 
 " Badly, my Lord !" was the reply. 
 
 " Right glad I am to hear that answer !'' 
 Sa-ood exclaimed with sincere joy ; " but " — 
 and his eyes lighted on the robe — " have you 
 done anything ?" 
 
 " This, Sire, only this !" and the Prince, 
 nervously held out his work. 
 
 It was little enough, indeed, but what there 
 was of the work was faultless in colour and 
 stitch. 
 The Sultan sighed deeply, and his wife, 
 145 K 
 
The False Prince 
 
 ensconced in a recess hard by, breathed a 
 loud gasp of relief. 
 
 Then the door of the hall was opened, and 
 the other was ushered in. 
 
 "Well, madman, how has it fared with 
 you ?" 
 
 " Great and honoured father and King, 
 what you have asked me to do is impossible ! 
 The scion of your house and the ward of Elfi 
 Pasha was never taught to handle a needle 
 or draw a thread. Ask me to mount your 
 most fiery steed and to throw a javelin, 
 challenge me to an encounter with your 
 doughtiest champion, or defy me to accom- 
 plish the most splendid deed of bravery you 
 can devise, but to sort out silks, and to sew 
 with a needle as if I had been born a woman 
 or bred a tailor, is beyond my powers. Take 
 this garment ; it is as you sent it. I would 
 sooner forfeit my claims to sonship with you 
 and meet death, than win a crown at such a 
 contemptible price !" 
 
 A great murmur of satisfaction discreetly 
 applauded this reckless speech. 
 
 The Sultan was obviously impatient at 
 hearing it, but a terrible commotion at the 
 doorway attracted all eyes in that direction. 
 
 " Make way, make way !" some dozen or 
 so of hoarse, panting voices were crying. 
 
 146 
 
The False Prince 
 
 " We've come for Labakan. Where is the 
 traitor ? Where is that thief ? that impos- 
 tor ? that liar ?" 
 
 The false Prince turned round, trembling 
 and aghast, to see the chamber invaded by 
 his master and his master's troop of work- 
 men and apprentices. 
 
 If the ground could have opened beneath 
 his feet, he could have sunk into it, but trem- 
 bling and ashamed, he stood there in the face 
 of all that glorious throng of lords, ministers, 
 and attendants. The frantic tailors paid no 
 heed to the great company that was about 
 them ; they passed the wretched Omar, 
 defiantly scorning their violence ; their course, 
 was straight for Labakan, and, reaching him, 
 they nearly tore him limb from limb in their 
 mad rage that he, one of them, a being so 
 honoured as to belong to their craft in the 
 workshop of the most famous master of the 
 trade in Alexandria, should have dared to 
 allow his presumption and pride to disgrace 
 his nature, and to discredit their calling by 
 such acts of treachery, baseness, and lying. 
 ***** 
 
 " Thank God !" Labakan cried, aching all 
 
 over through lying on a hard floor, and 
 
 startled by the noisy entrance of his master 
 
 and fellow-workers on the scene in which he 
 
 147 
 
The False Prince 
 
 ad overslept himself. " Thank God ! thank 
 rod ! it is all a dream !" 
 
 The robe of Prince Selim was truly upon him, 
 nd well it fitted him, he was proud to acknow- 
 )dge, but before he had been surprised by 
 [eep, he had worked such wonders on it, 
 liat the tailor and his crew stood enraptured 
 1 awe and wonder, 
 
 Labakan was a changed man from that 
 ay forward. Proud he always was, but if 
 tie fairies ever whispered to him now, it was 
 y remind him in the words of his strange 
 ream that if he was to be a Prince and not 
 
 tailor's drudge, he must work, and work, 
 nd work. 
 
 Labakan never came to a throne, but he 
 ved to be the envy of many Kings for the 
 wealth and fame that mere work brought 
 im. 
 
 148 
 
I 
 
 THE FAIRY GIFT 
 
 IN the days of Haroun Al-Rashid, the 
 famous CaUph of Bagdad, there lived in 
 Balsora a man named Benazar. He was 
 a well-to-do gentleman, and had no need to 
 bother himself with work of any kind. He 
 was wise, too, in his own fashion, for when 
 Said, his only child and son, was bom, and 
 his neighbours counselled him to take up some 
 occupation that would enrich him, he just 
 replied that he could not see why he, at his 
 age, should depart from the habits of his life- 
 time in order, if luck was with him, to leave 
 Said better oflf, and, if misfortune befell him, 
 to ruin the boy's prospects of a competency. 
 
 " Where two can dine a third need not 
 starve," he said, quoting a favourite proverb 
 of his. " n my son turns out a good fellow, 
 he will have enough for his wants, and if he 
 wants more, he can set about getting it." 
 
 151 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Benazar was as good as his words, for when 
 Said grew up, he did not put him to any- 
 business or trade, but trained him up himself 
 in all the wisdom and learning of the great 
 poets and writers of his country, and because 
 he deemed that besides philosophy and 
 culture of mind nothing could grace a young 
 man more than skill and courage, he caused 
 the boy to be instructed in the arts of fencing, 
 riding, swimming, throwing the lance, and 
 shooting with the bow. 
 
 Said proved the aptest of pupils, both in 
 mind and in body, and Benazar was very 
 proud of his achievements and of his reputa- 
 tion for prowess. 
 
 The youth was eighteen years old when 
 his father, taking all matters into considera- 
 tion, decided to send him to Mecca to perform 
 his religious duties, and thus to signify, 
 according to the custom of all good Moslems, 
 that the lad had now reached the noble estate 
 of manhood. 
 
 Preparations were duly made for the great 
 pilgrimage, and the day before the journej'^ 
 was to begin, Benazar called Said to him, 
 commended him for his conduct, imparted 
 much sound advice to him, and provided him 
 with the money he would require on his 
 travels. 
 
 152 
 
The Fairy Gift 
 
 The boy dutifully listened to his father, 
 thanked him for all he had done, promised 
 ever to reverence and obey him, and was 
 about to retire, when Benazar stopped him. 
 
 " I have one thing more, my son, to tell 
 you, and one thing more to give you ; but I 
 am much concerned about the matter, and 
 about the manner of unbosoming myself to 
 you respecting it. You know me well enough 
 by now, I hope, to acknowledge that I am 
 above the prejudices and rather petty vices, 
 if I may so call them, of ordinary men. No 
 one delights more freely than I in good 
 stories about fairies, witches, sorcerers, bad 
 and good spirits. It runs in the blood of our 
 race to be charmed in our idle moments with 
 astounding tales of magic beings and the 
 mysterious doings of supernatural forces, but 
 in my heart of hearts I am of neither a 
 credulous nor superstitious nature. Where 
 ignorance is bHss it would certainly be folly 
 to be wise, but the ignorance that bHndly 
 accepts the chance workings of coincidence 
 or the apparent manifestations of unseen 
 powers about us as the expression of the will 
 and purpose of the divine or malign influences 
 that rule our destinies, is not an ignorance 
 that I can share. Your poor mother, on the 
 other hand, in striking contrast to me, was 
 
 153 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 a devout believer in the weird and uncanny. 
 She has been dead, good soul, these twelve 
 long years. She was a faithful wife, and 
 loved me well , but I had no patience with her 
 simple-mindedness, and alas ! often rudely 
 shocked and pained her feelings by my profane 
 incredulity. When she lay dying, she called 
 me to her side, deplored the harsh way in 
 which I had always ridiculed her beliefs, and 
 confided to me that she herself was of fairy 
 lineage, and that at your birth a fairy visitor 
 had appeared to her and left as a present for 
 you this toy golden whistle on its trumpery 
 gold chain." 
 
 As he spoke, Benazar produced the frail 
 trinket from a little box by his side, and 
 handed it to his astonished son. While Said 
 was examining it curiously, his father went on : 
 
 " Your mother's instructions were that I 
 was to give you the thing when you were 
 twenty. The good woman said twenty, I 
 suppose, because it is at this age that the 
 youth of our people are generally considered 
 to have arrived at years of discretion. The 
 kind fairy who bestowed this birthday gift 
 on you can hardly have specified any particular 
 time, unless she was singularly unable to 
 forecast your future, an injustice that even 
 I am not inclined to do her. You are going 
 
 154 
 
The Fairy Gift 
 
 away to-morrow, two years, as it happens, 
 through your own precocity, before the date 
 on which, under ordinary circumstances, you 
 would have gone forth on your first travels. 
 Had I been a younger man, respect for your 
 mother's wishes might have restrained me 
 from telling you what you have now heard, 
 and from giving you that trifling charm or 
 amulet. But I am getting on in years, and 
 am at a period of life when the human mind 
 is most prone to consider the changes and 
 chances of this mortal life. Having there- 
 fore duly considered the matter, I desire to 
 relieve my conscience of the charge that was 
 laid upon me on a most solemn occasion. 
 I shall devoutly pray to see you again, but if 
 that is not to be, I can now, at any rate, die 
 with the happy sense that all has been done, 
 so far as in me lies, to discharge my fatherly 
 duty to you. And now go in peace ; may 
 your journey be prosperous and good fortune 
 ever smile on you, but whatever betide, may 
 Heaven always be with you, and help you to 
 think kindly of one who loves and admires 
 you !" 
 
 Said was deeply touched, and retired to 
 his own apartment with strangely conflicting 
 feelings, the pangs of parting with so good 
 and wise a father as Benazar wrestUng mth 
 
 155 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 the natural longings of a high-spirited, manly 
 youth to see the world and court adventures. 
 
 With the morning, however, and all the 
 bustle and excitement of a great caravan 
 assembled on the outskirts of the town for 
 the eventful pilgrimage to Mecca, Said's 
 spirits recovered. Once more and affection- 
 ately he threw his arms round Benazar's neck 
 and pressed his fond old father to his breast. 
 Then the drums beat loudly, the sacred 
 banners waved, and the procession moved 
 away in a scene of dizzy and dazzling rapture. 
 
 The novelty of travel and the many in- 
 teresting things that claimed his attention 
 on the way were suflficient at first to occupy 
 Said's mind, but as the company neared the 
 desert and the prospect became ever more 
 dreary and monotonous the young man fell 
 to pondering over his father's farewell words 
 to him. Thus meditating, it was not long 
 before he drew the little golden whistle on its 
 slender gold chain from the folds of his girdle, 
 and, examining it curiously, at last put it to 
 his lips to see what tones it would produce. 
 To his amazement, blow as he would, he could 
 not draw any sound from it, and he returned 
 it with annoyance to its hiding-place. 
 
 He would fain have thought no more of it, 
 but, having nothing better to distract him, his 
 
 156 
 
The Fairy Gift 
 
 mind kept ceaselessly reverting to the story 
 of his mother's mysterious relations with the 
 unseen world of spirits. Like most boys at 
 Balsora, he, too, had heard many fairy-tales 
 and been fascinated by them, but they had 
 always born the stamp of unreality about 
 them. No living being who dwelt at Balsora 
 ever claimed to have a first-hand acquaint- 
 ance with " djins " and spirits ; the narratives 
 about all such weird folk were always located 
 in out-of-the-way, distant lands and described 
 as having happened in long bygone times. 
 If they were ever true, it was natural enough 
 that he should have grown up to believe that 
 the days of miracles and wonders were past 
 and over. How disturbing, therefore, to reflect 
 that his own mother avowed herself to be of 
 supernatural descent, and that a real fairy 
 had deigned to visit her at his birth ! Such 
 musings could not fail to aflfect him outwardly, 
 and thus, while the other pilgrims talked and 
 laughed, sang and jested, he rode along- 
 dreamy and silent. 
 
 But Said was a very handsome fellow. 
 He had beautiful dark eyes that sparkled 
 with light and courage, his mouth was 
 deUcately moulded, his chin was firm, and 
 his limbs and body lithe and shapely. He 
 was splendidly mounted, well-dressed, and 
 
 157 
 
The Qolden Whistle 
 
 in spite of his youth, bore himself with a 
 dignity that could not fail to attract the notice 
 of his travelling companions. One of them, 
 at any rate, seemed to take a special interest in 
 him, for Said soon perceived that he was always 
 by his side. He was an old man, and as Said 
 had been brought up to reverence age he 
 respectfully ventured one day to enter into 
 conversation with his elderly neighbour on 
 the journey. The old man, who had been 
 silently observing him for some time, was so 
 pleased with his courteous manners and mode 
 of speech that the two were soon on the 
 friendliest of terms, and their talk, wandering 
 hither and thither, finally drifted from the 
 world of reality to the realms of fancy. 
 
 Said was quick to avail himself of this 
 change of topic, which fitted in so well with 
 his preoccupation of mind, and boldly asked 
 his venerable acquaintance for his opinion 
 about ghosts and fairies, magic, sorcery, and 
 witchcraft. 
 
 The old man had evidently been led to a 
 subject that had caused him much perplexity 
 and much serious thought, for he spoke very 
 freely and feelingly about these strange matters. 
 
 " I am even more of a child than you," he 
 said, " for with my greater opportunities I 
 am no wiser about the mysterious forces of 
 
 158 
 
The Fairy Gift 
 
 Nature. Frail children of circumstance and 
 not of deliberate choice as we are, how strange 
 it is that we should forget that fact, and vainly 
 seek to probe into the mysteries beyond, only 
 to be appalled by our own infatuated theories ! 
 You live, I live, and you and I are just what 
 we are, if we are anything at all. How we 
 came here, why we came here, we shall never 
 know ; but because we want to know what 
 would serve us no useful purpose if known, 
 we see visions and dream dreams. Fairies, 
 ghosts, ' djins,' demons, good spirits and bad, 
 they are and they are not, even as we are and 
 are not, but, my son, let this be your constant 
 care, live faithfully up to the faith that is 
 in you, and so alone will you gain that peace 
 of mind which will lead you at last to an 
 eternity of bliss." 
 
 That night, in his tent and all by himself. 
 Said drew out his little gold whistle and 
 examined it with unusual interest. The 
 words he had heard were burnt into his mind : 
 " My son, live faithfully up to the faith that 
 is in you." It was enough. An eternity of 
 bliss was, he youthfully hoped, still far away, 
 but there was peace for his slumbers that 
 night, and hope for the waking hours of the 
 morrow in that significant counsel. 
 
 The morrow, as it proved, veered pleasantly 
 159 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 enough towards the afternoon, when the 
 horizon was strangely disturbed. Some said, 
 there were sandhills ahead, others said dust- 
 clouds, but a few, more expert, whispered 
 Bedouin marauders. They were right, for it 
 soon became evident that the dark mass was 
 moving forward rapidly, and there was a 
 glint of spears and a sheen of armour. The 
 caravan formed into a square, the younger, 
 with their arms ready, occupying the outside 
 ranks, while the rest of the party ranged 
 themselves behind, the tents and baggage 
 being in the middle. 
 
 The Bedouins swept on Like a hurricane, 
 wildly brandishing their swords and lances. 
 Seeing that they were to be resisted, they 
 made no attempt to parley, but swooped 
 round the pilgrims, and fiercely attacked 
 them on all quarters. Bravely did the little 
 band fight for their lives, but they were 
 no match either in numbers or defence for 
 their enemies. Among the last to make a 
 desperate stand was Said. Now, if ever, he 
 thought, as he realised how forlorn his chances 
 of escape were, was the time to test the value 
 of his whistle. He fumbled in his girdle with 
 his left hand while fighting with his right, 
 found the charm, put it to his hps, and blew. 
 But no sound came from it, and in a frenzy 
 
 160 
 
The Fairy Gift 
 
 of rage and disappointment he flung himself 
 recklessly at the Arab who seemed to be the 
 leader of the robbers, and hewed him down 
 with a mighty stroke of his sabre. 
 
 When the Bedouins saw their chief fall, 
 they raised loud cries of fury, and closed in 
 overwhelming force round Said. 
 
 " Shoot him down ! shoot him down !" they 
 yelled, finding it impossible to approach him, 
 so murderously effective were his blows. 
 
 " No, take him alive ! He must die like a 
 dog !" came a roar from behind ; and, loosing 
 a rope from his saddle, the speaker dexter- 
 ously threw it, and brought Said struggling 
 to the ground. In a moment twenty men 
 were upon him, and, disarming him, they 
 bound him about with cords, and fastened him 
 helplessly on a horse. 
 
 What a shameful plight for so gallant a 
 fighter ! 
 
 With tears of bitter grief in his eyes. Said 
 cursed the cruel fate that had spared him to 
 see the Arabs mourn over their dead chief 
 and bury him. This first duty accomplished, 
 they then sorted out the spoil, divided it up 
 among themselves, collected the few survivors 
 of the pilgrim band, and set out for their 
 camp. 
 
 161 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 II 
 
 THE BEDOUIN CAMP 
 
 It was at dawn of the next day that, looking 
 gloomily ahead of him, Said saw a long, low 
 line of black tents pitched under a stragghng 
 group of palm-trees. The robber horde was 
 no sooner within hail than a crowd of women 
 and children came forth to meet them with 
 shouts of joy. But there was no glad response 
 to their welcome, and the terrible news quickly 
 flew from mouth to mouth, " Almansor is 
 dead !" 
 
 " Almansor dead !"..." Incredible !" . . . 
 " Impossible !"..." Almansor, the flower of 
 the desert . . . the bravest of the brave . . . 
 the Star of Hope . . . dead ! . . . and killed by 
 that stripling !" 
 
 These were some of the words that fell on 
 Said's ears. But when the first crushing 
 tidings of their great loss had ceased to stun, 
 and feeling succeeded panic, angry passions 
 were stirred, and raging tongues loosened. 
 It was now that Said's guards had difficult 
 work to protect him, for women and children, 
 the older men of the tribe — nay, even the 
 dogs of the camp — pressed round to drag him 
 
 162 
 
The Bedouin Camp 
 
 oflf his horse and tear him into shreds and 
 atoms. 
 
 Saved from this violence and brutality, 
 Said was at last ushered into a great tent 
 that stood somewhat apart from the others. 
 On a low, richly furnished couch at the 
 farther end sat a venerable old man, with a 
 long flowing beard of snowy whiteness. It 
 was easy to see by his dress and his grave, 
 proud look that he was the Sheikh or princely 
 chief of the band. 
 
 " The howls of the women and the commo- 
 tion in the camp have told me, what your 
 faces and that man you have brought as a 
 prisoner before me confirm, Alamansor has 
 fallen !" the majestic chief said, directing 
 piercing glances at Said and his guards. 
 
 " The news, alas ! is true, great Selim, ruler 
 of the desert, and honoured Lord and Master. 
 Almansor has fallen, and we have preserved 
 his slayer alive in order that you might judge 
 him, and decree, as you only have the right of 
 decreeing, how this murderer of your noble 
 son, our valiant leader, should die. Shall we 
 set him up as a target for our arrows ? Shall 
 we drive him through a passage of spears ? 
 Shall we cause him to be torn asunder by 
 horses, or bind him and throw him to our 
 dogs ? . . ." 
 
 163 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Selim held up his hand, and there was 
 silence ; then, fixing his keen eyes on the 
 prisoner who stood proudly and erect before 
 him, neither quailing nor flinching at the 
 dreadful words he had heard, the old man 
 asked him who he was. 
 
 Said answered the question briefly and 
 frankly. 
 
 " Did you kill my son treacherously ? Did 
 you secretly shoot him when his back was 
 turned, or in cowardly fashion attack him 
 when he was unable to defend himself ?" 
 
 " No, my Lord. I killed him in open 
 combat, when he and his men wickedly and 
 suddenly attacked a smaller band than his 
 own, travelling peacefully and with pious 
 intent to the shrine of our Prophet." 
 
 " Does the young man speak the truth ?" 
 Selim asked, addressing the guards. 
 
 " He does, gracious Lord," was the answer. 
 
 " Then he did neither more nor less than 
 any brave man among us would have done. 
 He fought and killed an enemy who threat- 
 ened his life and his liberty unprovoked. It 
 is my will that he be unbound." 
 
 Said's captors regarded one another in 
 
 blank amazement, doubting whether they 
 
 could have heard the order given them aright. 
 
 " Pardon, great chief !" the fiercest of them 
 
 164 
 
The Bedouin Camp 
 
 said, prostrating himself. " Pardon that we 
 should hesitate, but is the slayer of your son, 
 our noble Almansor, not to die ?" 
 
 " He is not to die !" was the deliberate 
 reply. " Nay, more, I will keep the youth in 
 my own tent, and I claim him as my just 
 share of the booty." 
 
 Aghast at this decision, the men somewhat 
 roughly freed their prisoner, and retired with 
 ill - concealed displeasure to spread the 
 astounding decree of their master to the 
 multitude that was impatiently waiting out- 
 side to quench their thirst for vengeance with 
 the blood of Almansor' s murderer. 
 
 The shrieks and yells of baffled rage that 
 now broke forth clearly told how unpopular 
 was the old chief's mercy. 
 
 Said looked at Selim. For a brief moment 
 or two an angry flash gleamed from his eyes, 
 and the workings of his face were terrible to 
 behold. Happily for his people, his great 
 strong heart sympathised with the feehngs 
 which expressed themselves in such suspicious 
 tones of disapproval of himself ; his wrath 
 relented, and a sorrowful smile lit up his 
 features. 
 
 " Almansor was very dear to them — and to 
 me!" 
 
 " Great and gracious chief !" Said cried, 
 165 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 bowing to the ground, " how can I thank you 
 for your clemency, and how can I express the 
 grief your goodness makes me feel for the 
 untoward act of mine that has robbed you of 
 a son and your people of a beloved leader ?" 
 
 " If you had not slain him, he would have 
 slain you. We who rashly traffic with men's 
 lives and goods in the lonely places of the 
 desert must take more than the usual risks 
 if we allow indiscretion to outrun valour. 
 You were travelling to Mecca, you said ?" 
 
 " Yes, my Lord !" 
 
 " And now tell me where you came from 
 and more about yourself !" 
 
 Said related all as he was bidden, and such 
 was the favourable impression he made on 
 Selim by his fine, manly presence, as well as 
 by the plain, outspoken account he gave of 
 himself, that, although he was to be a mere 
 slave, he was henceforward always treated by 
 the old man as if he had been his son. 
 
 The resentment which had been so un- 
 mistakably manifested in the tribe on the 
 day of Said's pardon dared not show itself 
 openly again, but it was none the less active 
 in spite of the perfectly marvellous sway 
 Sehm held over the hearts and minds of his 
 people. Said wondered more and more to 
 see what a power sheer force of character and 
 
 166 
 
The Bedouin Camp 
 
 a stern sense of justice could wield over the 
 unruly passions of lawless men. He went in 
 and out of his master's tent without the least 
 fear for his personal safety, but, as time wore 
 on, and nothing he could do would atone for 
 the crime he had so unwittingly committed, 
 he became more and more unhappy, and for 
 the good chief's sake and his own wished 
 that he, instead of the adored Almansor had 
 succumbed in that dreadful fight. 
 
 He was gloomily thinking these thoughts 
 while waiting on the chief one day, when 
 Sehm upbraided him for his melancholy. 
 
 " You are right, Said — you are right," 
 Selim said, after patiently listening to him. 
 " It grieves me sorely that a people who love 
 me really more than they fear me, because 
 they know how I have nurtured them in love 
 these fifty years or more, should cherish the 
 memory of the son who was to succeed me 
 with such hatred for you. I would have 
 weaned them into loyalty and kindness by 
 adopting you as the stay of my old age, but 
 they cannot forget Almansor, and you must 
 go. My power will no longer shield and 
 protect you. I have become weak in seeking 
 to make you strong. The bolder spirits of 
 my company have gone, as you know, on a 
 raid ; when they return, I will announce that 
 
 167 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 your rich father at Balsora has sent me a 
 heavy ransom for you, and I will entrust you 
 to the most faithful of my followers, who shall 
 conduct you safely out of the desert." 
 
 " They will murder me, my Lord !" 
 
 " No ; they shall be bound by the fastest 
 of oaths to me. No man has ever yet sworn 
 me an oath who has dared to break it. You 
 will be safe." 
 
 Some days later, when the raiders were 
 back in the camp, Selim fulfilled his promise. 
 He presented Said with arms, rich clothing, 
 and a horse, assembled his fighting men, and 
 declared his purpose to set his personal slave 
 free. He then chose five of the band, ex- 
 plained the reasons of his choice to them, and 
 made them swear a fearful vow that they 
 would honour his faith in them, and conduct 
 the youth safe in life and limb to the confines 
 of the desert. This done, he took an affec- 
 tionate leave of Said, and bade him God- 
 speed on his journey home to his father. 
 
 The five men of his escort did not attempt 
 to disguise the reluctance with which they 
 were carrying out the unpleasant duty im- 
 posed upon them. They rode, dark and silent, 
 in Said's company for eight hours through 
 the dreary waste, but the evil thoughts that 
 gnawed within them and clouded their faces 
 
 168 
 
The Bedouin Camp 
 
 found expression at length in sullen whisper- 
 ings. Said pricked up his ears, and overheard 
 now and again that they were discussing in 
 the dialect peculiar to their tribe whether 
 they ought, in all conscience, to observe an 
 oath exacted from them by a noble-minded 
 man who had nevertheless proved to be an 
 unnatural father. 
 
 With rare presence of mind, Said controlled 
 himself so well that, unsuspicious of his know- 
 ledge of their speech which Selim had taught 
 him, and urged by their cruel passion for 
 revenge, they presently began to speak more 
 loudly to one another. 
 
 " We are nearing the edge of the wilderness, 
 and the time for decision is short," said one ; 
 " what do you say, comrades ?" 
 
 "An eye for an eye, .a tooth for a tooth, 
 and therefore a life for a life, has always been 
 our rough-and-ready code of justice," a 
 second remarked. 
 
 " It is Arab law wherever the free Bedouin 
 roams," interposed a third. 
 
 " But a vow is a vow, even among the sons 
 of the desert, let me remind you," broke in a 
 fourth. 
 
 " The vow was not justified ; if we had been 
 men, we should not have taken it," said the 
 first roughly. 
 
 169 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 " But you took it all the same ; it is there- 
 fore binding !" the fifth man dryly insisted. 
 He was the oldest of the troop, and his words 
 seemed to make a deep impression, for there 
 was a long silence, which he again was finally 
 to break. 
 
 " You misjudge me, comrades, if you 
 imagine that I moiirn the death of Almansor 
 less, or do not deplore the foolish clemency 
 of his father more than you do. As I said 
 before, however, an oath once solemnly taken 
 is an oath, and your conscience would never 
 give you peace if you broke it. For myself, 
 what we swore to Selim, our Sheikh, we shall 
 keep. The slayer of his son shall be brought 
 to the verge of the wilds, but there we may 
 leave him bound, for the burning sun by day 
 or the hungry tooth of the hyena by night 
 to avenge our cause. What say you ?" 
 
 A joyful and ready approval greeted these 
 words, and poor Said had good need to 
 summon up all his wits and all his courage. 
 A cold shudder ran through his veins ; he 
 looked furtively at his arijis and more hope- 
 fully at his horse. Would it save him ? he 
 wondered. It was not of the freshest, but it 
 was a fine animal, and he was the most daring 
 of riders. In his desperate straits thought 
 transferred itself into action with a sudden- 
 
 170 
 
The Bedouin Camp 
 
 ness that stupefied his escort for a minute or 
 two. But the robbers were not the men to 
 be easily balked of their purpose. They 
 quickly separated in different directions, and, 
 being better riders than Said, and highly skilled 
 at all the tricks of dodging and rounding up 
 their quarry, they speedily outflanked him, 
 and, with a dexterous cast of the lasso, soon 
 brought him panting and exhausted to the 
 ground. 
 
 " I will not sue for mercy, but I do appeal 
 for pity," Said urged, while they tied him hand 
 and foot. " As men who can admire courage, 
 kill me, but do not leave me to die a cruel 
 death on these burning sands." 
 
 For all answer, the Arabs laughed scornfully, 
 mounted their horses, and were gone. 
 
 There the wretched Saiid lay, groaning and 
 helpless, while the sun scorched mercilessly 
 down upon him. The only relief he could 
 get — and it gradually became more and more 
 temporary — was to roll himself over with 
 almost superhuman efforts, so that he was 
 now on his back, and now on his side. The 
 horror of his condition was too awful to allow 
 him even the solace of thought, which is 
 often the last comfort of a doomed man. He 
 was miserably undone : if the sun did not kill 
 him, the wild beasts of the desert would not 
 
 171 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 be long in scenting out his body, and he would 
 be torn asunder piecemeal and devoured. 
 What a fate for a promising youth on the 
 threshold of life ! He turned over for the 
 last time, prepared to shut his eyes for ever 
 on a world that had rejected him, when he 
 saw his little golden whistle lying before him. 
 It must have dropped somehow from his 
 girdle, where he kept it, and, though he had 
 no reason so far to value its powers, it sup- 
 plied him in the dire extremity of his need 
 with Hope, the last and greatest support 
 which can soothe the human mind amid the 
 trials of life, and sustain him in the hour of 
 death. 
 
 With parched and fevered lips. Said edged 
 himself up slowly to the whistle, blew it, and 
 fainted away. 
 
 HI 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF BAGDAD 
 
 What happened in the interval he was never 
 to know, but the cords that bound him were 
 being unloosed, and, with the dread fear that 
 the hyenas were gathering about him, he 
 exerted all the strength that was left him to 
 struggle for dear life against their attacks. 
 His attempts were of the weakest, though 
 
 172 
 
^aid ivas Undt i ani h ou^ht 
 hack to ((fe by a chance traveller, " 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 they made a great demand on the Httle energy 
 that was left in him. Happily for him, no 
 wild beast had seized him in its clutches, for 
 his waking consciousness soon apprised him 
 of human voices : 
 
 " He is alive," they said ; " handle him 
 gently. ..." 
 
 Saiid opened his eyes at length, and saw a 
 fat little man bending over him. Looking 
 more closely at him and at the two black 
 attendants who were cutting away his bonds, 
 Said failed to identify them as of Selim's 
 tribe, and, supposing that he was in a delirium, 
 would have shut out the sight of imaginary 
 relief, when he felt a flask of some cordial 
 being pressed to his lips, and kind voices 
 cheering him to take courage. 
 
 True or not — and for a longer space than 
 he could conceive it seemed wholly incredible 
 to him — Said was really being tended and 
 slowly brought to life again by a chance 
 traveller across the desert. 
 
 He was a merchant of Bagdad, Kalum-Beg 
 by name, a dealer in shawls and woman's 
 finery, on his homeward journey from Damas- 
 cus. Said thanked him for his kind offices, 
 and gladly accepted his offer to seat him on 
 one of his heavily laden camels and to take 
 him to Bagdad. 
 
 173 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Bagdad was in those days the most famous 
 city in the east, and Kalum-Beg had much 
 to tell Said about the glory of its buildings, 
 the prosperity of its trade, and, most of all, 
 about the renown of its great ruler, the 
 celebrated Haroun Al-Rashid, which means 
 Aaron the Just. Just he was, and wise above 
 every Caliph and King who had reigned at 
 Bagdad, and his people almost worshipped 
 him, so beneficent was his sway, so righteous 
 his dealings, and so constant his zeal for the 
 welfare of his subjects. 
 
 " He does not even require sleep as we 
 ordinary creatures do ; a few winks snatched 
 in the earliest hours of the day are sufficient 
 to refresh him," Kalum-Beg said, adding : " I 
 suppose I know more about the intimate life 
 of the Caliph than anyone outside the palace, 
 for my cousin Munsoor is his first chamber- 
 lain, and, although he is as silent as the grave 
 about his master's doings, I do now and again 
 pick up little scraps of information to satisfy 
 my curiosity, and I have heard enough to 
 confirm the rumours that the Caliph wanders 
 in and out of the streets by night as well as 
 by day, now in one disguise and then in 
 another, in order to see for himself how his 
 laws are kept, and how he may add to the 
 peace and security of his people. Hence you 
 
 174 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 will notice that the inhabitants of Bagdad are 
 scrupulous to respect the persons of those 
 who cross their way in the streets and squares, 
 since no man can ever be sure that the beggar 
 he meets, the fool who stares at him, or the 
 dirty Arab who pushes past him is not the 
 Caliph." 
 
 Said listened attentively to Kalum-Beg's 
 stories, and, although he could have wished 
 that the road he was travelling would have 
 led him to Balsora, he was not sorry altogether 
 for the opportunity his rescuer afforded him 
 to see the wonder-city of Bagdad. 
 
 The little party had been journeying for 
 ten days through a rich and smiling country, 
 when the domes and minarets of Bagdad 
 loomed into sight. Nearing the gates, Said 
 was overwhelmed by the busy scene that met 
 his gaze ; he had never looked before on a 
 crowd so dense and so picturesque in variety ; 
 but while it interested him the spectacle also 
 depressed him. What room was there in all 
 that world of activity and bustle for a lonely 
 man like himself, with not a friend to welcome 
 him, he mused. 
 
 Kalum-Beg must have divined his thoughts 
 from the sadness of his air, for, before Said 
 could frame his feelings into words that would 
 have expressed his utter sense of desolation, 
 
 175 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 the merchant cheerfully bade him accept the 
 hospitality of his house. 
 
 " In spite of what I have told you about 
 Bagdad, it is, I fear me, a sorry place for a 
 homeless and inexperienced wanderer. There 
 is nothing cheap about it except the air, the 
 forecourts of a mosque, or — the waters of the 
 Tigris," he joctdarly remarked. 
 
 Said blessed the happy circumstance that 
 provided him with food and shelter under a 
 generous man's roof, and, having ate well and 
 slept well, he got up in the morning, arrayed 
 himself with unusual care, and was prepared 
 to enjoy himself in the famous city, when 
 Kalum-Beg entered his room. He looked the 
 brave and handsome youth roguishly up and 
 down, stroked his beard with a cunning 
 twinkle in his eye, and said : 
 
 " Very fine, very fine, young man ; but 
 what's it all going to end in ? Methinks you 
 are either somewhat of a dreamer, or you have 
 concealed a goodly store of wealth from me. 
 How else do you think you are going to live 
 up to that lordly style and dress of yours ?" 
 
 " Dear sir," Said replied, perplexed at the 
 change of tone and manner in the merchant, 
 and abashed by his own thoughtlessness, " I 
 have no money, but you will, I hope, extend 
 the debt I already owe you to an advance 
 
 176 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 that Avill allow me to proceed to Balsora, 
 where I will answer for my father that you 
 shall be amply repaid." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" Kalum-Beg laughed scornfuUy. 
 " Your father, youngster ! The sun of the 
 desert has sodden your brains, it strikes 
 me. Do you think I believed for a minute 
 all the stuff and nonsense you told me about 
 your father at Balsora and your adventures 
 with the robbers ? I know every merchant of 
 means in Balsora, but never a one who is called 
 Benazar ; and as for that affair in the desert, 
 our great Caliph has purged the roads of 
 commerce of all plunderers and highwaymen ; 
 otherwise how do I come to traffic with 
 safety between here and Damascus, Aleppo, 
 and even so far as Alexandria and Smyrna ? 
 You are a sorry liar, young man !" 
 
 Pale with rage. Said would have thrust the 
 slander down the miserable merchant's throat, 
 but Kalum-Beg was wily enough to have posted 
 himself out of range of a sudden attack, and 
 Said was too noble to have recourse to violence- 
 
 " I have told you no lies, Kalum-Beg !" he 
 exclaimed, when he could speak at all. 
 " Swear me by all that you hold truest and 
 most sacred !" 
 
 " Swear you, boy ! No oath could hold 
 with a stripling like you." 
 
 177 M 
 
The Qolden Whistle 
 
 "I can bring no witnesses to prove my 
 stories, but did you not find me bound and 
 dying ?" 
 
 " True ! But who will tell me that, rich 
 and stately though you are clad, you are not 
 yourself a robber who found a strong man 
 armed more powerful than you V 
 
 " There is not a man in all your city of 
 Bagdad who would dare to meet and fight me 
 in single combat under fair conditions. Try 
 me and prove me. But, Kalum-Beg, I am 
 forgetting myself. My father taught me that 
 gratitude is the highest of virtues and the 
 most difficult to practise. You saved my life. 
 I owe it to you to be grateful. Now, then, do 
 what you will with me. Support me in my 
 need, or, if you wish to be cruel, strip me of 
 my fine clothing and send me forth to beg ; 
 if I cannot touch the heart of the wise Caliph 
 you praised to me, I can, perhaps, find the 
 comfort of rest in the deep waters of the 
 Tigris." 
 
 " Aha ! now you are coming to your senses," 
 the merchant sneered. " With my cousin 
 where he is, I could not promise you much 
 consideration from the Caliph; as for the 
 Tigris, it would seem rather a pity, would it 
 not, that a strapping youngster like yourself 
 should be fished up one fine day all limp and 
 
 178 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 lifeless ? Better leave that to the wastrels 
 who foolishly stray into Bagdad and hope for 
 miracles in a practical world. Eh ! what do 
 you think ? Shall I suggest a more likely 
 career for you ? My shop in the bazaar is 
 pretty well known, but an aristocratic pres- 
 ence like yours might help the business to go 
 better. What do you say to being my 
 crier ? The job is not a hard one ; all you 
 have to do is to show yourself, and to use your 
 lusty young lungs well. Think the matter 
 over between now and noon. I don't want 
 to be unreasonable. I will engage you for a 
 year and a day from to-morrow, and if you 
 agree to accept the post, I will cancel all 
 charges for yoiir safe conduct hither, and pay 
 you enough to enable you to return to Bal- 
 sora and show your father a margin of profit. 
 Good-bye for the present." 
 
 Left to himself, Said paced restlessly up 
 and down the room, boiling with rage at the 
 proposal made to him, and storming at the 
 evil powers that had doomed him to be the 
 victim of a cunning, mean-spirited wretch 
 like Kalum-Beg. The man was the most 
 artful villain that his young and inexperienced 
 imagination could conceive. Never for an 
 instant did Said have the least cause to sus- 
 pect his motives in treating him with such 
 
 179 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 kindness and consideration on their journey 
 to Bagdad. What, however, was the good of 
 raging and reviling ? To be happy he must 
 be wise, Benazar had sagely counselled, and 
 wisdom clearly lay in stomaching his pride 
 and bending like a reed to the rude blasts of 
 ill-fortune. 
 
 The next day, therefore, clad in a sober 
 suit of cloth without delicate embroideries 
 and other marks of his gentle condition, Said 
 was taken down to the bazaar and instructed 
 in his new duties of standing outside the 
 merchant's shop, and proclaiming loudly to 
 all and sundry who passed his way what store 
 of beautiful shawls, lovely veils, intricate 
 lace-work, and fine products of the looms of 
 Smyrna, Aleppo, Trebizond, and Damascus 
 were to be bought within. It was soine weeks 
 before he could glibly patter ofE the gibberish 
 of the trade, but from the first hour that he 
 stood in the market, the eyes of Bagdad had 
 marked him out for his handsome presence 
 and the nobility of his mien and gestures. 
 Many a lady who had avoided the shop of the 
 ugly, fat little Kalum-Beg was enticed to give 
 the merchant a trial for the sake of his newly 
 imported crier. It was a pleasure to be 
 addressed by such a youth, to look into his 
 dark eyes, and to touch his fingers as he 
 
 180 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 handled the specimens of the wares that 
 tempted them to purchase. 
 
 Kalum-Beg's shop became the talk of the 
 harems and the envy of the town, and Kalum- 
 Beg was not fool enough to undervalue the 
 credit Said brought to him. His treatment 
 of the young man grew daily more gentle and 
 considerate ; he fed him well, housed him 
 comfortably, and was very careful not to 
 irritate or annoy him. Mindful of the com- 
 pact of a year and a day which had many 
 months to run. Said gratefully accepted such 
 benefits as Fortune provided for him, but in 
 his heart of hearts he sorely chafed at his lot, 
 and thought sadly of his father, of Balsora, 
 and freedom. 
 
 He had lost all faith in his little golden 
 whistle, which had been somewhat strangely 
 preserved amid the vicissitudes that had 
 befallen him ; but it was his still, and though 
 it blew ho sounds, his poor mother had be- 
 lieved in its virtues, and he kept it for her 
 sake in the folds of his girdle. 
 
 He was loquaciously engaged in discussing 
 the merits of a particular fabric one day with 
 a lady who had hitherto studiously avoided 
 Kalum-Beg's shop, when the little whistle 
 dropped out of its hiding-place. Said thrust 
 it back, but the lady had seen it, and, to his 
 
 181 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 tonishment, brushed past him uncere- 
 oniously, and was soon busily occupied in 
 lying up the best of his master's stock, 
 er bulky purchases completed and packed 
 3, she asked the merchant, as she was 
 lying him, for a porter to carry the goods 
 her house in her train. 
 
 " The parcels shall be delivered in half an 
 )ur, my lady," Kalum-Beg said. 
 " But I want them to go with me, and at 
 ice !" 
 
 " I am sorry, my lady ; we have been un- 
 ;ually busy to-day, and all my men are out 
 st now carrying things all over the town." 
 " Well, if I cannot have my packages now, 
 3uppose I must do without them altogether," 
 le lady remarked, taking back her money. 
 " You will surely not be so impatient, 
 adam ?" pleaded the merchant. 
 " I don't call this a respectable shop at all, 
 a customer cannot have her wishes Etttended 
 ) after offering to spend a small fortune here. 
 ;'s your dvity to keep a larger staff," the lady 
 lid indignantly, and turned to go. But she 
 iddenly changed her mind, and, facing 
 ^alum-Beg again, she asked loudly, pointing 
 b Said : 
 
 " What's that lazy young fellow doing out 
 lere ? Why can't he carry the things for me ?" 
 182 
 
The Merchant of Bagdad 
 
 " He is my crier, gracious lady." 
 " Crier ! What does an honest dealer want 
 with a crier, I should like to know ? Here, 
 boy !" she called to Said, " pick up those 
 parcels and follow me to my house with them. 
 There's your money, merchant, and I hope 
 for your sake I may find the goods what you 
 pretend they are," she added, flinging some 
 forty gold pieces at Kalum-Beg, and loftily 
 sailing out of the shop. 
 
 Said, rejoicing in his heart to hear his 
 crafty master so soundly snubbed, and, only 
 too glad of an opportunity of leaving his 
 hateful post for a while, even to serve as a 
 menial porter, picked up the lady's purchases, 
 and threaded his way through the crowded 
 streets at a discreet distance behind her. 
 
 IV 
 
 THE HANDSOME CRIER 
 
 She stopped in due course at one of the 
 biggest houses in the most select quarter of 
 Bagdad. A couple of black slaves deferen- 
 tially opened the door for her, and, signing 
 the youth to attend her, she led him through 
 a sumptuous haU, up a flight of marble steps, 
 and into a luxuriously furnished apartment. 
 
 183 
 
The Qolden Whistle 
 
 !ere she was met by a little group of maidens, 
 ho rushed forward to conduct her to her 
 ivan, and then, at a whisper from her, 
 iHeved Said of his burdens and disappeared. 
 " Here's a silver piece for your pains, young 
 lan," she remarked ; and Said stepped for- 
 ard and respectfully touched with his lips 
 le richly jewelled fingers which held the 
 3in. He had turned and was about to 
 epart, when, to his great amazement, he heard 
 soft, silvery voice addressing him by name. 
 " Said, son of Benazar !" the voice repeated, 
 here was no mistaking the call this time, 
 id he looked round. The lady on the couch 
 id thrown aside her veil and put off the ample 
 leet that disguised her form when she was 
 it shopping. What Said saw was a stately, 
 >rgeously attired figure standing before him. 
 tie was not a young woman, but she was as 
 sautiful as a golden day in early autumn, 
 uick as only thought once stimulated can 
 avel, the youth remembered the little epi- 
 ide of his whistle, and, strangely convinced 
 lat he was face to face at last with the good 
 iry of his birth, he dropped reverently on 
 s knees in a fervour of humble adoration. 
 " Said, my dear boy, it is you, then, as 
 suspected ! For days and days I have 
 atched you outside that shop, but not till 
 184 
 
The Handsome Crier 
 
 this morning could I be certain. Have you 
 the golden whistle ?" 
 
 " I have, dear fairy," Said cried joyfully, 
 and drew the little trinket from his girdle. 
 
 "Fairy! Fairy! Well, let it be fairy," 
 the lady said, as she approached, took the 
 whistle, and lovingly inspected it. "I was 
 the dearest friend of your dead mother ; I 
 was even more, for she and I were twin sisters. 
 We were the only children of Said Hassan, 
 the greatest man in the country of Damascus. 
 Misfortune befell our father, and he wandered 
 to this land, first to Balsora, where your 
 mother was married to Benazar, and then to 
 Bagdad, where in due course I was married. 
 Of all the worldly possessions that your grand- 
 father prized, he esteemed none more than 
 this little charm, the exact history of which 
 he himself did not know ; but he always spoke 
 of it as a gift to the family from a fairy 
 ancestor. For generations the whistle had 
 descended from father to son, and Said Hassan 
 was the first of his line to have no male heir 
 to whom to bequeath it. When the news 
 came that your mother was expecting a child, 
 my father bade me disguise myself and go to 
 her house. If the child that was born was a 
 son, I was, without revealing myself, to give 
 him the name of Said and this whistle ; if the 
 
 185 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 child, was a daughter, I was to come back with 
 the charm. You were born the very morn- 
 ing I reached Balsora. The circumstance was 
 fortunate, since your mother seemed to have 
 been anxiously expecting some fairy visitor ; 
 and when my arrival was announced, I was 
 taken at once into her apartment. There I 
 took you into my arms, kissed you, and hung 
 this token about your neck ; then, addressing 
 your mother, I delivered the message given 
 me by my father, that you were to be called 
 Said, that you were to be carefully brought 
 up in all righteous ways, and watchfully nur- 
 tured at home till you were of the full age 
 of twenty ; then only were you to be allowed 
 to go out into the world, and you were to 
 bear this golden whistle on its frail golden 
 chain always about you to guard and protect 
 your courses through life. Benazar is a good 
 man, who has reared you wisely and well, 
 but he has broken one of the solemn condi- 
 tions that your mother vowed he should 
 observe. Great troubles have fallen upon 
 you in consequence. You are reaping what 
 another has sowed, and must still suffer. ..." 
 
 " Oh, but you can help me— you can help 
 me now ; for you are the kind fairy," the 
 youth besought, with tears in his eyes. 
 
 " No, Said ; I would not add to your suffer- 
 186 
 
The Handsome Crier 
 
 ings by attempting to interfere with the happy 
 chance that has made it possible for me to 
 meet you. You are very wretched, I know, 
 with Kalum-Beg, but if he had not saved your 
 Hfe in the desert, you would not have been 
 here." 
 
 " He is a bad man !" 
 
 " Yes, very evil and cunning, but you have 
 no escape from him." 
 
 " Surely the just Caliph would help me if 
 he knew ?" 
 
 " The just Caliph would not set aside the 
 compact you have made with Kalum-Beg. 
 He dare not ; a bond is a bond ! Besides, the 
 great Caliph is, after all, only human ; in 
 spite of his desire to be in personal touch 
 with his people, he cannot be here, there, 
 and everywhere, and must needs rely to some 
 extent on his ministers and officials. Now, 
 his trustiest adviser is his chamberlain Mun- 
 soor, and Munsoor is Kalum-Beg's cousin, 
 and Kalum-Beg has taken the precaution of 
 poisoning his cousin's mind against you. You 
 can do nothing, you see, but must patiently 
 bide your time and the opportunities it will 
 afford." 
 
 " Unhappy man that I am !" Said ex- 
 claimed, overwhelmed by the contemplation 
 of his merciless lot. 
 
 187 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 " I grieve for you, my boy, doomed to be 
 a common crier in the bazaar when Nature 
 fitted you out with advantages that would 
 have graced a prince." 
 
 " Yes, dear fairy, it is hard to bear. Is 
 there no relief that would in some way miti- 
 gate the abject condition of my service ? T 
 was trained to feats of skill in arms and 
 horsemanship, and when I see the noble 
 youths of Bagdad riding out in all their happy 
 freedom to fight and wrestle, throw the lance 
 and bend the bow, then it is that I suffer 
 most." 
 
 " Here is your whistle ; take great care of 
 it, and go now ! You must not attempt to 
 see me again ; if I want you, you shall know. 
 Good-bye !" 
 
 Said kissed the hand held out to him and 
 departed. 
 
 When Said got back to the bazaar he was 
 surprised to find a great crowd outside his 
 master's shop and a terrible commotion going 
 on inside. 
 
 He did not know till afterwards what had 
 happened, but it seems that when he had 
 followed the lady as a porter, Kalum-Beg had 
 taken his place at the shop-door, and was 
 acting as his own crier. Presently two men 
 came along the bazaar, and passed up and 
 
 188 
 
The Handsome Crier 
 
 down several times as if they were eagerly- 
 searching for something or somebody. 
 Kalum-Beg noticed their inquiring glances, 
 and called out : 
 
 " Here, gentlemen — here ! You are per- 
 haps trying to find a beautiful veil like this, 
 or a fine bit of lace of this kind," he said, 
 holding out samples of his wares to them. 
 
 " Your things may be most excellent, old 
 fellow," one of the men remarked ; " but our 
 ladies have grown particular of late, and there 
 is only one shop in the bazaarwhere they choose 
 to buy. It is the shop with the handsome 
 crier, though where it is, is the mystery that 
 has been perplexing us this half -hour or more." 
 
 " Allah be praised that I spoke to you ! 
 This is the shop ; walk in, walk in." 
 
 " And you are the beautiful crier, I sup- 
 pose ?" the man said, laughing. 
 
 " Let the ugly little fool be ; it's no good 
 wasting words on the scoundrel," his com- 
 panion observed. 
 
 Kalum-Beg was furious. He protested 
 angrily that he would not be insulted, that 
 his was the shop they had been seeking, and 
 loudly called on his neighbours to attest the 
 truth of his statement. His fellow-trades- 
 men, however, who had always disliked him 
 for his sly, mean character, and had lately 
 
 189 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 grown jealous of the custom Said had brought 
 to his shop, would have nothing to do with 
 his quarrels, and simply gathered round, 
 blandly gaping and shrugging their shoulders 
 in answer to his fervent appeals. 
 
 The two men, now firmly convinced that 
 the merchant was an old rascal, abused him 
 soundly as a liar, a cheat, and a knave, and, 
 finding they could not silence him with their 
 tongues, they drove him into his shop, and 
 proceeded to thrash him, to the great delight 
 of the laughing, hooting crowd, into whose 
 midst Said suddenly thrust himself. Scatter- 
 ing the people to left and right. Said darted 
 forward to his master's rescue, seized one of 
 the assailants by the collar and the other by 
 the arm, and flung them violently against the 
 walls of the shop. 
 
 " Now then, you fine gentlemen," Kalum- 
 Beg squeaked in his rage and excitement, 
 " who is a liar, a cheat, a knave ? There is 
 my handsome crier ; dare to deny it to his 
 face !" 
 
 Confronted by so clear and formidable a 
 proof that the merchant had told them the 
 truth in the first instance, and that they had 
 been guilty of an unpardonable assault which 
 might entail disastrous consequences if it 
 reached the Caliph's ears, the two men were 
 
 190 
 
The Handsome Crier 
 
 glad to slink off as quietly as possible, and 
 the bazaar soon resumed its wonted air of 
 busy peace. 
 
 " Said, you prince of criers, how can I 
 thank you — how can I praise you ? It was 
 well for me that you arrived in the very nick 
 of time ; truly in another moment I should 
 have been undone !" 
 
 " We are quits in that case, dear master ; 
 you in the desert and I in the bazaar have 
 been useful to one another." 
 
 " Perhaps, perhaps ..." Kalum-Beg sniv- 
 elled in the loathsome, calculating way which 
 always stirred the gall in Said. Fool that he 
 was, he brooded sadly ; what a pity he had 
 not restrained the impetuous promptings of 
 a compassionate nature, and left the merchant 
 to the tender mercies of his aggressors ! But 
 it was too late to sigh over his mistake of 
 judgment, and as Kalum-Beg was really 
 softened for the time being towards him, and 
 anxious in some way or other to reward him 
 for his opportune assistance, Said asked that 
 once a month, on a Friday afternoon, when 
 business was always slackest, he should be 
 allowed a holiday, and be free to don his own 
 apparel. 
 
 Kalum-Beg, ever suspicious, hesitated, but 
 as nothing else he could suggest would please 
 
 191 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Said, he ungraciously acceded at last to the 
 request, on strict conditions that Said should 
 never be out later than ten o'clock at night, 
 or forget his bond to serve him faithfully for 
 the full period to which he had solemnly 
 agreed. 
 
 Those free Friday afternoons were as wel- 
 come in Said's dreary and monotonous life as 
 a refreshing rain in a parched land. He im- 
 impatiently counted the days from one to 
 another of them, and when the short hours of 
 freedom came he retired to his room, hastily 
 threw off the mean garb that was the badge 
 of his slavery, and carefully attired himself 
 in the magnificent apparel given him by Selim. 
 He let himself out by a little door that opened 
 into a secluded alley behind the merchant's 
 house, and reached the main streets by 
 devious ways, in order to hide the place 
 whence he came. It was a wise precaution 
 in some respects ; still, had he only known 
 how totally changed he was in his fine raiment, 
 how proudly he held up his head, how firm 
 his step was, and how bold his look, he might 
 have spared himself much unnecessary walk- 
 ing and delay in getting to the sports' ground. 
 No one who saw him standing about and keenly 
 watching the games and exercises of the brave 
 and noble youth of Bagdad would have sus- 
 
 192 
 
The Handsome Crier 
 
 pected for a moment that he was the hand- 
 some bazaar crier. By keeping to himself 
 and not actively courting the society of the 
 distinguished spectators at the sports, an air 
 of mystery was, however, imparted to his 
 periodical attendance. People began to ask 
 in whispers who this distinguished stranger 
 was, and the competitors in the races and 
 tournaments, attracted by his appearance and 
 the lithe and athletic build of his figure, won- 
 dered why he should not seek to enter the 
 field with them, and display the skill and 
 prowess that he obviously possessed. 
 
 Ali Bey, the son of the Grand Vizier, a 
 champion athlete, and the chief organiser of 
 the sports, was especially interested in him, 
 and, being unable any longer to restrain his 
 curiosity, he one day suddenly brought his 
 horse round to where Said stood alone, and 
 gallantly accosted him. 
 
 "It is not meet, honoured stranger, that 
 you should any longer hold aloof from the 
 company of men who would be proud to 
 engage you in feats of arms. Here is my 
 horse ; will you give me the pleasure of riding 
 it in a bout of lance-throwing with my 
 comrades." 
 
 " Accept my best thanks, kind sir," Said 
 replied, with a courteous bow. " I am sadly 
 
 193 N 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 out of practice at riding ; still, it would be 
 churlish of me to refuse a gracious offer so 
 graciously made." 
 
 Ali Bey was delighted, and, holding the 
 stirrup for Said, the latter swung himself 
 gracefully into the saddle, and proceeded to 
 try the paces of the high-bred animal. Mur- 
 murs of applause greeted the dexterity with 
 which the stranger handled the horse and 
 made it obedient to his will ; no better riding 
 had been seen in Bagdad for many a day. 
 Leading the charge in the difficult game of 
 lance-throwing, Said again proved himself an 
 expert, and won the admiration of all the 
 beholders. 
 
 He modestly dismounted, and gratefully 
 returned the horse to its owner, with compli- 
 ments about its excellences and the manner 
 in which it had been trained. 
 
 " You have shown yourself so accomplished 
 a sportsman that I am tempted, honoured 
 stranger, to challenge you to a fencing match, 
 if you are not too tired after your exertions," 
 Ali Bey said respectfully. 
 
 " I am at your service, generous sir, though 
 I fear you will not find me worthy of your 
 
 skiU." 
 
 The contest that followed did such credit 
 to Said's knowledge of the practice and usages 
 
 194 
 
A Night's Adventure 
 
 of the art of self-defence that, although he 
 was defeated, the cheers of the spectators 
 clearly demonstrated their opinion that he 
 had suffered no disgrace in yielding- the palm 
 of victory to a swordsman of Ali Bey's re- 
 doubtable fame. 
 
 V 
 
 A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 
 
 The daylight had now begun to fade, and, 
 the sports being ended, Said found an oppor- 
 tunity of slipping quietly away and quickly 
 losing himself in the scattered crowd. He 
 was warily dodging in and out of the less fre- 
 quented streets, up a narrow lane here and 
 down a dark passage there, when he drew near 
 to a party of four men who were so engrossed 
 in conversation that they had not overheard 
 his approach. He was just thinking how best 
 to avoid them, when snatches of their talk 
 fell on his attentive ears. The sounds of 
 their gibberish made the blood run hot and 
 cold in his veins ; they were men of Selim's 
 robber band. His first impulse was to slip 
 away, for surely they would not have ventured 
 into Bagdad on any other errand than to 
 search him out and wreak their unrelenting 
 vengeance on him. It was dangerous to dog 
 
 195 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 their footsteps, but, elated by his successes of 
 the day, and braced to a pitch of daring as 
 foolish as it was brave. Said hung on their 
 tracks, stopping when they stopped, darting 
 into a doorway when they turned round, and 
 every now and again, with the experience he 
 had acquired of the by-ways and alleys of the 
 town, out-distancing them, and overhearing 
 their talk as they passed him hidden under 
 an archway, or lurking in the darkness of a 
 gloomy porch. 
 
 It must have been nearly midnight, and 
 Said was still in doubt of the real purpose of 
 the ruffians, when they chanced upon two 
 belated wayfarers at the entrance of the 
 bazaar. Before he had time to realise what 
 had happened, the scoundrels had pounced 
 on the unsuspecting pair, and were proceeding 
 to gag them. The sight of such treacherous 
 violence was too much for Said, and, drawing 
 his sword, he boldly rushed to the rescue of 
 the unoffending citizens. He had hewn down 
 two of the robbers with slashing blows to 
 right and left of him before their companions 
 could collect their senses ; the third slung a 
 noose for him, but the rope fell short of its 
 mark, and Said had transfixed the man, while 
 the fourth was struggling vainly in the clutches 
 of two elderly gentlemen. 
 
 196 
 
"■Four men of S£htn'<! 
 
 rulhcr biljid. 
 
A Night's Adventure 
 
 " Let him die, masters !" Said cried ; and, 
 swinging fiercely round on the robber, he 
 pierced him to the heart, with the ringing 
 shout current in Bagdad, " So let all the 
 enemies of the great Caliph perish !" 
 
 " Young man, whoever you be, you have 
 truly saved the Caliph's life," said a gentle 
 voice. 
 
 Said fell on his knees. 
 
 " God be praised, father of the faithful, 
 if you really are the Caliph ! I am a poor, 
 "wretched, humble man, but if you are 
 the great Haroun Al-Rashid, give me your 
 blessing, and I am happy !" 
 
 " You are blessed, my son, for the help 
 you have given me," the Caliph said, and, 
 taking Said by the arm, he added : " Rise, 
 and let us not linger here ; meanwhile, take 
 this ring, and bring it to my palace to- 
 morrow ; you shall then receive the thanks 
 that I owe you. Come, Vizier," he continued, 
 addressing his companion, and moving on. 
 
 " Gracious Master, allow me also to offer 
 the saviour of my life some token of my grati- 
 tude. Young man, here is my purse ; what 
 it contains may minister to your present 
 needs ; your future, under the grateful pro- 
 tection of my Lord, the Caliph, will require no 
 sort of assistance from me." Then, bidding 
 
 197 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Said God-speed on his homeward way, the 
 Vizier joined the Caliph, and the two were 
 gone. 
 
 Said, utterly bewildered by the amazing 
 turn his night's adventure had given to his 
 fortunes, stood rooted to the spot for a while. 
 Soon remembering, however, where he was, and 
 that it was no place in which to loiter with four 
 corpses strewn about him, he slipped the ring 
 on to his finger, pocketed the heavy purse, 
 and directed his steps to his lodgings. But 
 as he walked along, thoughts of Kalum-Beg, 
 and of the fearful scoldings, insults, and worse, 
 that awaited him at the merchant's house 
 checked his progress. No, come what might, 
 after having once more tasted the joys of 
 associating in friendly rivalry of sport with 
 men of his own condition in life, and with 
 minds as noble as Ali Bey's, he could never 
 go back to slavery and to the humiliating 
 duties of a vulgar shop-crier in the bazaar. 
 The Vizier's purse contained more than 
 enough money, judging by its weight and 
 the feel of the coins, to enable him to reach 
 Balsora, while the joy of being with his father 
 was dearer to his heart than the hope of 
 favour from even so great a ruler as Haroun 
 Al-Rashid. 
 
 Turning aside, then, from the way that led 
 198 
 
A Night's Adventure 
 
 to Kalum-Beg, Saiid went down to the square 
 and the great caravanserais, where the travel- 
 lers from near and far were wont to assemble 
 before undertaking their journeys. 
 
 The first glimmerings of dawn were streak- 
 ing the eastern horizon when Said wandered 
 into the groups that were already being formed 
 by men intent on the same errand as himself. 
 He found traders to Damascus, Aleppo, 
 Smjrrna, Constantinople, and the chief towns 
 of India ; but the sun was high in the heavens 
 before he could hear of any party going south- 
 wards to Bushire, Koweit, and Balsora. 
 Succeeding in his object at last, he was just 
 concluding terms with the organiser of a 
 small expedition to the head of the Persian 
 Gulf, when noisy cries behind him caused him 
 to turn round. To his horror, his eyes fell on 
 Kalum-Beg, heading a band of town guards. 
 
 " There he is, there he is !" the furious 
 merchant screeched in the tumult of his rage. 
 " Seize him ! Bind him ! That's my crier ! 
 He has pillaged my stores, robbed me of my 
 money, and dressed himself Kke a gentleman 
 at my expense ! Get hold of him quick !" 
 
 " He is a base Har !" Said exclaimed, stand- 
 ing his ground valiantly. But the guards 
 were too many for him, and there was not a 
 man in the crowd that had rapidly gathered 
 
 199 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 round who had the courage to support him 
 against the word of a villain, known in all 
 Bagdad to be the cousin of the Caliph's First 
 Chamberlain. 
 
 Said was rapidly surrounded, bound, and 
 dragged to the nearest law-court. The magis- 
 trate, informed of the pressing nature of the 
 suit and the powerful influence behind the 
 merchant, took the case at once. Said was 
 searched, and, as Kalum-Beg stoutly main- 
 tained that the purse of gold was his, the 
 money was counted out — three hundred good 
 pieces in all — and sentence duly pronounced 
 on the accused in the following terms : 
 
 By decree of the Caliph, every theft exceed- 
 ing a hundred gold coins from a recognised 
 trader in the markets of Bagdad, was punish- 
 able by exile for life on a desert island at the 
 mouth of the Tigris. The prisoner, being 
 duly convicted on the testimony of his master, 
 a highly esteemed shopkeeper in the Great 
 Bazaar, must forfeit the money found on him, 
 and complete the number of twenty delin- 
 quents like himself who were waiting to be 
 conveyed to their place of banishment. 
 
 In vain Said, mindful of his ring, fervently 
 appealed to be heard by the Caliph ; in vain, 
 too, Kalum-Beg, richer in money, but poorer 
 by the loss of his crier, pleaded for justice 
 
 200 
 
A Night's Adventure 
 
 less stern. The magistrate was obdurate, 
 and the unfortunate youth was ignominiously 
 hurried oflf and thrust into a loathsome cell, 
 in the company of a disreputable score of 
 foul-mouthed and filthy thieves. Though he 
 hoped that on board the galley the air would 
 at least be purer, Said found his miseries ten- 
 fold multiplied ; for he was consigned with 
 the other malefactors to the deepest and 
 darkest hold, and left to pine miserably on 
 the scantiest allowance of food and water. 
 
 Said had never prayed for death more fer- 
 vently than he did now. Even his sufferings 
 as he lay bound in the burning sun of the 
 desert were as nothing compared to the tor- 
 ments he endured in the stench and stuffiness 
 of that horrible ship's room. To add to his 
 ill-fortune, the sea, when they reached it, was 
 very rough, and the wretched captives, some 
 dead, some dying, and the rest in cruel torture, 
 were thrown one against another, and dashed 
 now to one side of the ship, and then to the 
 other. 
 
 It must have been ten days after they had 
 embarked that the water began to find its 
 way into the hold, and all sound and signs of 
 human beings overhead had ceased. Sus- 
 pecting what had happened, the few, who had 
 any strength left in them, battered madly and 
 
 201 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 with united efforts at the hatches which im- 
 prisoned them. It seemed a forlorn hope, 
 but the instinct of self-preservation endowed 
 them with almost superhuman energies. The 
 boards gave way, and Said, with half a dozen 
 companions in misery, stood at last on the 
 deck of a deserted sinking ship that was drift- 
 ing in a heavy storm along a rock-strewn 
 coast. The sight of their perilous condition 
 completely distracted the minds of Said's 
 fellow-prisoners, and, reckless of the certain 
 death that awaited them, they plunged head- 
 long into the waves in a vain attempt to swim 
 to the shore. By clinging to the wreck. Said, 
 to be sure, flattered himself with no empty 
 hopes of deliverance ; sooner or later the vessel 
 would either founder and he must be drowned, 
 or it would drive on to the coast and he 
 would be dashed to death on the rocks. How 
 strangely Fate had dealt with him ! he was 
 led to ponder. But as his eye fell on the 
 Caliph's ring a new turn was given to his 
 thoughts, and he was forced to acknowledge 
 that his present plight was entirely due to his 
 own rashness and folly. He was beyond the 
 help of man now ; not even a ruler so great 
 and powerful as the famous Haroun Al- 
 Rashid could be of the slightest service to 
 him. It was hard to have to die in the flower 
 
 202 
 
A Night's Adventure 
 
 of his manhood, and just when life had once 
 more held out to him the glorious promise of 
 freedom and of a career of distinction. But 
 what except a miracle could save him ? A 
 miracle ! The age of miracles was passed, he 
 reflected bitterly. Then he suddenly remem- 
 bered the words of the wise old man who had 
 ridden by his side in the desert : " Fairies, 
 ghosts, djins, demons, good spirits and bad, 
 they are and they are not, even as we are and 
 are not ; but, my son, live faithfully up to the 
 faith that is in you." 
 
 Saifd's fingers eagerly searched the folds of 
 his girdle ; it was some time before he had the 
 satisfaction of at last touching the little 
 whistle, and he carefully drew it out. Once 
 again he applied it to his lips and blew his 
 hardest. Whether it was the whistle or 
 merely the shrill blast of the wind in the 
 rigging that he heard, he did not know, but 
 before he could blow again, and as though in 
 scornful derision of his childish trust in a vain 
 thing, a furious squall smote the ship with a 
 voice of loud laughter, and hurled Said into the 
 raging waters. 
 
 203 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 VI 
 
 THE GREAT CALIPH 
 
 Said was lying on a rock when he slowly 
 came to his senses again. The sullen moan- 
 ing of the sea aided him gradually to remem- 
 ber what had happened to him, but he refused 
 to believe that he could still be alive after his 
 terrible experiences in the water. Recover- 
 ing himself sufficiently at length, he sat up to 
 look about him. He found himself on the 
 slope of a great mass of rock that stood iso- 
 lated within a mile or two of the shore. It 
 was morning, judging by the position of the 
 sun in the sky, and a fresh breeze was blowing ; 
 but the violence of the storm had abated, and 
 the waves were settling down to calm. He 
 was badly bruised about his arms, legs, and 
 head, but had marvellously escaped serious 
 damage. Wondering what he was to do, he 
 crawled painfully to the highest point of his 
 rugged little island to scan the coast-line. 
 The prospect was not encouraging, for there 
 was no sign of human habitation along its 
 waste, dreary length. He was reckoning up 
 his chances of swimming to land, when he 
 caught sight of a white speck detaching itself 
 from a distant bend of the shore. He fixed 
 
 204 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 his straining eyes upon it ; it was a ship, and, 
 to his unspeakable joy, it was quickly bearing 
 down towards him, favoured on its course by 
 a following wind. 
 
 Yes, there could be no doubt about it. The 
 ship was a big trader, and must pass within a 
 few cables of the rock. Said stood up, and, 
 as the vessel neared him, he yeUed, and 
 shouted, and frantically waved his arms. His 
 strenuous efforts were happily successful in 
 attracting the attention of the look-out ; 
 the sails were brought up, the ship's way 
 arrested, and a boat launched. Said scrambled 
 down from his height, was soon dragged into 
 the boat, and safely conveyed on board the 
 vessel. 
 
 Battered and dishevelled though he was, 
 his distinguished dress, no less than his hand- 
 some features and refinement of speech and 
 manner confirmed the account he gave of 
 himself as a gentleman who had been ship- 
 wrecked on his voyage to Balsora. The 
 Captain and his crew treated him with all the 
 kindness and consideration that his mis- 
 fortunes, coupled with his exalted station in 
 life, could demand, the only drawback to his 
 happiness being that the ship was bound 
 with an important cargo of Indian merchan- 
 dise for Bagdad. Said eagerly sought to 
 
 205 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 persuade the Captain to turn aside in his 
 course and land him at Balsora, where he 
 could promise him great reward ; but, OAvlng 
 to the delays caused by bad weather during the 
 greater part of the voyage, this was impossible. 
 It was therefore with very disquieting 
 feelings that Said awaited the first glimpses 
 of the city in which he had spent a miserable 
 life, and where nothing but further shame and 
 degradation awaited him. 
 
 He was preoccupied one evening in the 
 cabin with the various schemes that had 
 occurred to him from time to time for eluding 
 observation on landing and for finding his 
 way somehow to Balsora, when the ship's 
 anchor was unexpectedly dropped. Hurrying 
 on deck, where the crew was busy lowering 
 sails, he was surprised to find no sign of 
 wharves and warehouses, but a quiet, pleasant 
 scene of summer residences, nestling among 
 woods, whose leafy trees dipped their over- 
 ha^nging branches into the cool eddies and 
 currents of the broad Kiver Tigris. In 
 answer to his inquiries why they had stopped, 
 the Captain told him they were three hours 
 below Bagdad, that it was too late to put 
 into the port that night, and that he had 
 therefore decided to heave to and continue 
 the journey at daybreak. Being in a talka- 
 
 206 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 tive mood, the good-natured seaman drew 
 Said's attention to their picturesque sur- 
 roundings, explaining to him how wealthy the 
 inhabitants on those banks were, and how 
 they had been attracted thither in order to 
 be in proximity to the summer palace of the 
 Caliphs of Bagdad, the lights from the win- 
 dows of which, within a bow-shot of their 
 anchorage, were already beginning to star the 
 growing darkness. 
 
 " The Caliph must surely be down for the 
 hot months, then ?" Said remarked. 
 
 " No doubt he is, judging by all that 
 illumination," was the reply. 
 
 " Look here, Captain," Said continued, 
 quickly collecting his scattered wits after a 
 brief pause, " I hardly know what opinions 
 you have really formed of me, but, as it 
 happens, you have in saving me saved the 
 life of a man who has particular claims on 
 the consideration of the mighty Haroun Al- 
 Rashid. I promised you rewards if you 
 took me to Balsora, but I think I can promise 
 you fortune if you will believe what I tell 
 you, and if you will row me across to that 
 palace before you weigh anchor to-morrow 
 morning. Your name is . . ." 
 
 " Mustafa el Bahri, sir, master mariner of 
 Bagdad." 
 
 207 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 " Well, Mustafa, do you agree to my re- 
 quest ?" 
 
 " You shall be on the Caliph's landing-stage 
 before I draw up-river. Whether you are 
 what you say you are and can advance me 
 in life or not, is neither here nor there. After 
 having had the pleasure of delivering you 
 from danger it would ill become me not to 
 obey your wishes." 
 
 " I thank you from my heart, generous 
 Captain, and in order that you may recognise 
 any message I may have occasion to send 
 you as coming from me, look carefully at this 
 little bit of jewellery, and do not hesitate to 
 answer the call of ' the Golden Whistle.' " 
 
 It was still dark when Mustafa roused Said 
 from his fitful slumbers and conveyed him to 
 the marble steps of the Caliph's boat-stage. 
 Stepping ashore, he bade the Captain farewell, 
 and, stealing among the trees and bushes, he 
 worked his way cautiously up to the broad 
 terrace in front of the mansion. Hour after 
 hour went tediously by, and, although there 
 was every sign to encourage him in his hopes 
 that the Caliph was at hand. Said began to 
 fear at last that he had been unwise in choos- 
 ing this particular method of approaching the 
 great ruler. He was j ust contemplating a mo ve 
 towards the other side of the house, when two 
 
 208 
 
1 ' 
 
 ly 
 
 ■'\ 
 
 Im'Tmiii I 
 
 "TAe Stiinmer Palace 
 of the Caliph." 
 
The Qreat Caliph 
 
 men stepped out on to the terrace and walked 
 gravely up and down in earnest conversation. 
 Said watched them closely ; the features of 
 neither were familiar to him, but it was 
 certain from their outward manner that the 
 younger of the pair was of more exalted 
 station than his companion. Was he the 
 Caliph and the other Munsoor, the First 
 Chamberlain ? Said wondered, for it was 
 the thought of that highly-placed relative 
 of Kalum-Beg's that worried the unhappy 
 youth most of all. 
 
 The sedate gentlemen had paced the front 
 of the mansion several times, when a tempting 
 seat in the shade of the trees that hid Said 
 attracted their notice, and they ushered one 
 another into it. 
 
 " Grand Vizier . . ." 
 
 The words were barely uttered, when Said, 
 holding out his ring, broke from his retreat 
 and flung himself at the feet of the startled 
 speaker. 
 
 " Young man, who are you ?" the Caliph 
 asked, mustering up all his dignity. 
 
 " The ring, my Lord — your ring will tell 
 you." 
 
 " My ring !" was the rejoinder. 
 
 " Yes, great Caliph. Take it and look at it." 
 
 " The man who saved your life, gracious 
 209 o 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 Master !" came from the astonished Grand 
 Vizier. 
 
 " The man who saved my life was bidden 
 to meet me on the morrow," was the some- 
 what stern reply. 
 
 " He might have obeyed your Majesty's 
 commands if he could have done so with 
 safety." 
 
 " What do I hear ?" the Caliph exclaimed 
 in a voice of thunder. 
 
 "The truth, your Majesty!" and Said 
 then poured out the whole story of his life. 
 
 The story was long, but never was Said to 
 recount it to more attentive listeners than 
 to Haroun Al-Rashid and his trusted First 
 Minister. 
 
 " And here I am flattering myself that the 
 meanest subject of my land is free, and has 
 justice done to him. Vizier, what a fool I 
 am ! Said, young man, you have saved my 
 life ! It was something, but the thanks I 
 owe you for that can bear no comparison with 
 the debt under which you have placed me in 
 teaching me my duty. I will be a friend and 
 father to you. Arise, and follow me !" 
 
 The Caliph entered the palace, led Said to 
 the royal apartments, and, summoning his 
 a,ttendants, ordered that the young man 
 should be supplied with all he required to 
 
 210 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 refresh and restore himself to his personal 
 comforts ; that he should also be furnished 
 with clothing from the princely wardrobe, 
 and housed as a privileged guest in a suite of 
 state rooms. This done, the Caliph retired to 
 consider the measures he proposed to take in 
 order to right the wrongs the young man had 
 suffered, and to assure his future well-being. 
 
 It must have been some two days later that 
 Haroun Al-Rashid, still undecided in his 
 mind about the course he should pursue Avith 
 regard to Said and his story, was sitting in 
 his hall of audience, surrounded by his court, 
 administering the open justice for which his 
 reign was famous. 
 
 He had disposed of various cases, when, to 
 his great astonishment, his First Chamberlain, 
 Munsoor, stood forth in the place of appeal. 
 
 "Commander of, the Faithful!" Munsoor 
 began, with a deep obeisance, " my cousin, 
 Kalum-Beg, a notable merchant in the bazaar 
 at Bagdad, is waiting Avithout to submit to 
 your Majesty's wisdom and decision a peculiar 
 dispute that has arisen between Mm and a 
 nian of Balsora, th« father - of a boy who 
 served in the merchant's shop, robbed him, 
 and then ran away. This man, having 
 traced his son's wanderings - to Bagdad, now 
 claims, most unreasonably, that Kalum-Beg 
 211 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 should do what, through the boy's own wicked 
 fault, is impossible — namely, restore his son 
 to him." 
 
 The Caliph's brow was knitted, and a dark 
 expression settled on his features as he listened 
 to Munsoor's plaint. 
 
 " Tell your kinsman, First Chamberlain, 
 that he is to appear before me with his suitor 
 in half an hour's time," the Caliph said; 
 then, turning to the assembly, he added as 
 he left his seat: "the court is meanwhile 
 adjourned." 
 
 Haroun Al-Rashid withdrew to his private 
 apartments, hastily summoned Said, and 
 thus addressed him : 
 
 " My son, I have been sorely perplexed how 
 to dispose most fairly of the matters concern- 
 ing you. Allah is great, for he has mercifully 
 given me the opportunity of exercising the 
 wisdom with which he has endowed me to 
 the overthrow of greed, malice, and deceit, 
 and the triumphant assertion of justice and 
 innocence. Come with me now to the hall of 
 audience ; conceal yourself behind the curtain 
 at the back of my throne. Keep perfect 
 silence, no matter what you hear, and promise 
 me that you will remain hidden until you 
 hear me call your name." 
 
 With a heart beating loud with excitement, 
 212 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 Said followed the Caliph's steps, and took his 
 place behind the curtain, while Haroun Al- 
 Eashid reappeared in the assembly, and sat 
 down on his throne. 
 
 " Let the disputants enter !" the Caliph 
 commanded, and a hush, only to be broken 
 presently by the shuffling of two pairs of feet, 
 fell on the crowded chamber. 
 
 Various formalities then being gone 
 through. Said was almost paralysed to hear 
 the harsh, raucous voice of Kalum-Beg 
 breaking the stillness. 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful, may it 
 please your Majesty," the merchant began, 
 " a few days ago I was standing outside my 
 shop in the bazaar, when a town-crier, with 
 a purse in his hand and this man at his side, 
 came along, shouting : ' A purse of gold, a 
 purse of gold, to the one who can give infor- 
 mation of the whereabouts of Said of Bal- 
 sora !' This Said, having been in my employ, 
 I naturally exclaimed, ' Come here, friends ; 
 I think I can claim the reward !' whereupon 
 this old gentleman, now so bitterly disposed 
 towards me, approached with eagerness, and 
 asked me what I knew about the youth. 
 ' Are you Benazar of Balsora, the boy's 
 father, sir ?' I ventured to inquire, and, 
 being joyfully informed that he was, I then 
 
 213 
 
The Qolden Whistle 
 
 told him how I had saved his son in the 
 desert, brought him to Bagdad, and provided 
 him with an occupation and generous mainte- 
 nance. In the joy of his heart, Benazar gave 
 me the purse, but when duty compelled me 
 to add the rest of the story, how faithlessly 
 Said had rewarded my kindness to him, how he 
 had robbed me, and then deserted me, the 
 old man suddenly turned against me, refused 
 to believe me, and has been vexing and 
 annoying me for days, demanding the return 
 of his purse, and insisting that I should give 
 him back his son !" 
 
 " You have spoken, Kalum-Beg," the Ca- 
 liph sternly interrupted. " I will now hear 
 what Benazar has to say." 
 
 Benazar, in a voice shaken by emotion, 
 had little to tell except that Said, his son, 
 was a noble-hearted, virtuous, and upright 
 boy, and that, whatever faults of character 
 he may have had or that his calamities may 
 have induced, he could never have stooped 
 to theft. 
 
 " I speak as a fond father, great and mighty 
 ruler of the faithful, but I will uphold the 
 honour of my son to my dying breath 
 against such a foul charge as this merchant 
 makes." 
 
 " Kalum-Beg," said the Caliph, " I sup- 
 214 
 
The Qreat Caliph 
 
 pose when you were robbed you did your 
 duty in denouncing the thief ?" 
 
 " Verily, my Lord ! I took instant steps 
 to hale him before a magistrate," the mer- 
 chant answered in a tone of self-confidence. 
 
 " Who was the magistrate ?" 
 
 " Kaid Haleel, of the port." 
 
 " The same who appeared in the case I 
 heard before this one ?" the Caliph asked of 
 those about him. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord," was the reply. 
 
 " Then he is within call." 
 
 "I am here, gracious " Lord and Master," 
 came a voice from the ranks of the audience. 
 
 " Stand forth, Kaid !" the Caliph ordered, 
 and resumed in due course. " You have 
 heard Kalum-Beg's assertion. Do you re- 
 member the incident ?" 
 
 " I do, your Majesty." 
 
 " I presume that when the young man was 
 brought before you, you carefully inquired 
 into the charge and examined the prisoner ? 
 Did he confess his guilt ?" 
 
 " No ; it was impossible to deal with him. 
 He was in a state of violent excitement, and 
 appealed to be heard by you." 
 
 " I do not remember to have seen him." 
 
 " My Lord, if every knave who demands 
 judgment at your hands were to be admitted 
 
 215 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 to your presence, you would have no time for 
 your more exalted duties." 
 
 The Caliph mused awhile in thoughtful 
 silence. 
 
 " But surely an appeal so urgent as this 
 young man seems to have made ought to have 
 justified some caution in dealing with his 
 case." Then he continued, addressing Kalum- 
 Beg : " You probably showed clear proofs of 
 his crime ; there were witnesses, no doubt, 
 of the youth's guilt, merchant ?" 
 
 "Witnesses!" Kalum-Beg said tremu- 
 lously — " witnesses ! No, my lord ; what 
 witnesses could have surprised so artful a 
 thief as the man who was slowly robbing me 
 day by day ?" 
 
 " How much did he steal from you ?" 
 
 " Three hundred gold pieces." 
 
 "It is a large sum. How did you recog- 
 nise the money to be yours ?" 
 
 " By the purse that contained it." 
 
 " Have you the purse ?" 
 
 " Here it is, your Majesty," Kalum-Beg 
 said, producing a purse. 
 
 " That purse yours ?" cried the Grand 
 Vizier, ta the amazement of the assembly, 
 when his eyes caught sight of the richly em- 
 broidered bag that was handed up to the 
 
 Caliph. 
 
 216 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 " Why this unseemly interruption, Grand 
 Vizier ?" the Caliph asked sternly. 
 
 " Most humbly do I implore forgiveness, 
 gracious Master ; but that purse is mine, and 
 I gave it with my own hands to a brave young 
 man who saved my life in the streets of 
 Bagdad one night." 
 
 " Can you swear to it, Grand Vizier ?" 
 
 " As truly as I hope to enter the gates of 
 Paradise. It was worked for me by my own 
 daughter." 
 
 " It seems, then, Kaid Haleel, that you 
 were falsely informed. Why did you believe 
 the merchant ?" 
 
 " He swore it on his oath, and I dared not 
 doubt the word of a recognised tradesman in 
 the bazaar, who was also the kinsman of yoiir 
 First Chamberlain." 
 
 The Caliph groaned aloud. 
 
 " This, then, is how a bad, deceitful man 
 may hinder the cause of righteousness, and, 
 shielding himself under the influence of a 
 relative of whom he was unworthy, perjure 
 his own immortal soul for the sake of passing 
 gain and fleeting power. 
 
 " Kalum-Beg," the Caliph continued, fierce 
 wrath mantling his features, and miaking his 
 voice terrible to hear, " where is Said ?" 
 
 " He was condemned to be transported for 
 217 
 
The Qolden Whistle 
 
 life to a lonely island," the merchant replied, 
 trembling in every limb. 
 
 " Oh, Said ! Said ! my dear son ! that I 
 should live to hear this !" Benazar sobbed. 
 
 " Kaid Haleel," the Caliph asked, " has 
 that lying merchant for once told the truth ?" 
 
 " Alas, your Majesty ! I am so distraught 
 and confused I hardly remember any- 
 thing . . ." 
 
 " Let us see if the young man himself 
 can revive your memory. Said !" the Caliph 
 called. 
 
 There was a tremendous stir in the hall 
 when the youth, resplendent in his sump- 
 tuous robes, suddenly appeared before the 
 eyes of all the beholders. The sight of his 
 old father, utterly bowed down by the grief 
 and sufferings he had endured, was too much 
 for Said, and, rushing towards him, he 
 clasped Benazar tenderly to his bosom. 
 
 Even the Caliph was moved to tears by 
 the touching scene, and it was some time 
 before he was sufficiently composed to con- 
 clude the case. 
 
 Kaid Haleel was degraded from his office as 
 a magistrate and banished from the city. As 
 for Kalum-Beg, he was sentenced to forfeit his 
 rights to trade in Bagdad ; the wealth he had 
 unscrupulously amassed was held confiscated 
 
 218 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 to the State for charitable purposes, and he 
 was doomed to go out into the world and pray 
 that he might find greater mercy for himself 
 than he had been wont to show to others. 
 
 When all was over, Haroun Al-Rashid 
 conducted Benazar and Said into the palace. 
 He graciously bade them be seated, arid then 
 told the proud father how his son had saved 
 two lives in the midnight streets of Bagdad. 
 
 " My life is not my own, Benazar," he added ; 
 "in shielding it from a treacherous attack, Said 
 preserved it, in the good- will of AUah, for the 
 benefit of my people. The story of his deed 
 shall be proclaimed in Bagdad, and I err 
 grievously if a single murmur of disapproval 
 or envy will grudge the favours which I pro- 
 pose to bestow on Said. In order that you, 
 with your ripe stores of wisdom and learning, 
 may be able to watch over him and guide him 
 aright in his promotion to office and dignities, 
 it Avill be necessary for you to live about my 
 court. I will anticipate any objections you 
 may be inclined to raise by telling you that 
 it is only by consenting to my request that 
 you can expiate that grave fault of yours 
 which has been the cause of all your son's 
 trials and dangers. A dying woman, your 
 own wife, commended this boy to your par- 
 ticular care till he was of full age ; you pre- 
 
 219 
 
The Golden Whistle 
 
 sumptuously disregarded her wishes as vain 
 and superstitious. " The fairy who visited her 
 when this child of her sorrows was born was 
 her own twin-sister, the daughter of Said 
 Hassan of Damascus. She it was who 
 brought him the charm that helped her to 
 recognise him in the bazaar of Bagdad. It 
 was her noble son, Ali Bey, whose mind she 
 stirred to befriend him at the sports ground, 
 an incident about which you will hear more in 
 due course. It will astonish you, however, to 
 learn that it was the life of that ' good fairy's ' 
 husband, my Grand Vizier, which Said was 
 providentially to save when he saved mine; 
 and you must remember that it was the 
 Grand Vizier's purse which furnished the 
 most damning evidence against that scoundrel 
 Kalum-Beg. You see, I know something of 
 the Golden Whistle, Said," the Caliph added 
 playfully, addressing Said. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord and Master ; but you do 
 not know aU. But for the Golden Whistle 
 I should never have been here "; and Said 
 told of his adventures on the rocky island 
 and of the services Mustafa el Bahri had 
 rendered to him. 
 
 " He shall be my State Barge-master, and 
 live happily with you two," the Caliph 
 promptly ordered. 
 
 220 
 
The Great Caliph 
 
 In the days of gladness and prosperity that 
 followed, Said never forgot the Golden Whistle. 
 He learnt that it was only by blowing it 
 gently that it uttered its shrillest notes, and 
 though no fairies instantly answered its call, 
 the memories it evoked grew daily more and 
 more like the most fanciful fairy-story to 
 which he had ever listened. 
 
 221 
 
The 
 
 Wonder 
 
 CKild 
 
DAME NOSE 
 
 ABDULLAH was a fellah, or peasant, 
 who laboriously tended and cultivated 
 a patch of land on the outskirts of 
 Bagdad, and lived Avith his equally hard- 
 working wife in a small village by the banks 
 of the River Tigris. 
 
 The glorious days of the great Caliph 
 Haroun were long since past and gone, and, 
 although life could never have been easy for 
 such as Abdullah, who directly inherited the 
 curse of Adam to till the soil, the prosperity 
 of the townspeople and the beneficent rule of 
 order and security must have considerably 
 lightened the toilsome lot of those who dug 
 and sowed, weeded and watered, in order to 
 bring the fruits of the earth to the city market 
 in due season. 
 
 If legend as well as mere history could be 
 trusted, too, those spacious times of peace 
 
 225 P 
 
The Wonder-Child 
 
 and plenty were sweet with the records of 
 magic and romance. Djins worked mightily 
 on land and sea, and fairies tripped inside 
 cottage doors as well as in and out of gilded 
 palaces. 
 
 Life must have been worth living then, with 
 the hope of the unexpected ever present to 
 charm its dull monotony. As things now 
 stood, however, day in, day out, it was 
 nothing but work, work, work, for little profit 
 and less prospect of improvement. 
 
 The want of money was bad in itself, but 
 the want of a child was even worse. Ab- 
 dullah and his wife should in all reason have 
 been glad, perhaps, not to have to provide 
 for other mouths than their own in times that 
 were so hard, but they were simple enough 
 to be sorely afflicted that there was none to 
 take up their burden of toil and penury. 
 
 But still they prayed, and still they hoped, 
 and just when they were beginning to fear 
 with sorrow that a heavy curse rested on 
 them, and that neither prayer nor hope would 
 avail, a child was sent to cheer their aching 
 hearts. A son he was, that greatest of 
 divine blessings, and in order to signify their 
 sense of gratitude, they named him Aghab 
 the Wonder. 
 
 And a Wonder he really was, for he was as 
 226 
 
Dame Nose 
 
 beautiful as he was lusty, perfect in every 
 limb and feature, so happy of disposition 
 that he was hardly known to cry, and so 
 bright and intelligent that he quickly be- 
 came the talk of the country-side. 
 
 Though Abdullah was proud of him, his wife 
 was even prouder; in fact, the good man some- 
 times hardly knew whether he had any claim 
 on his own son, for the boy's mother would not 
 be a moment without him, and when she went 
 to Bagdad market with her fruit and vege- 
 tables, she packed him up on her back while 
 he was still an infant, stowed him among the 
 baskets on the donkey as he grew heavier, 
 and insisted on his company when he was old 
 enough to trot along by her side. 
 
 " The boy is worth two loads of garden-stuff 
 to us," she argued eloquently, when Abdullah 
 remonstrated about the monopoly she was 
 establishing with regard to the child. " He 
 is called Wonder, and a Wonder he really is 
 in the market. He stands in front of me, 
 cries my wares, and nobody who ever passes 
 can resist his face and refuse to buy of me. 
 We are richer every day since I have had him 
 at hand, and there is time for him to learn 
 from you how to dig and sow, how to prepare 
 the soil and water. Leave him to me, and 
 be content with what I bring you in money !" 
 
 227 
 
The Wonder=Child 
 
 And truly the woman was right, Abdullah 
 was forced to admit in his heart, for his 
 baskets always came back empty from the 
 town, and what he had put into them in the 
 morning was returned to him in very good 
 coin of an evening, to say nothing of the little 
 store of wealth which was steadily increasing 
 for the Wonder-child in the shape of money^ 
 gifts for his good looks, his winsome ways, 
 and his cheerful readiness, as he grew up, to 
 help his mother's customers home with their 
 purchases. 
 
 " He will be rich enough, if he goes on in 
 this fashion for the next few years, to be 
 spared the drudgery of garden- work," the 
 proud father fondly reflected, as he toiled the 
 day long in dreary loneliness among his 
 plants and fruit-trees ; and fair visions of the 
 future rose before his wearied eyes of the 
 Wonder in that familiar plot of ground, 
 enlarged beyond its narrow bounds, standing 
 like a prince of gardeners among an army of 
 zealous workmen, directing their labours, 
 supervising their achievements, and daily 
 growing more rich and prosperous for the 
 love he inspired, and for the wisdom with 
 which he ruled his enterprises. 
 
 It was in this hopeful frame of mind that 
 Abdullah sped his wife and child on their 
 
 228 
 
Dame Nose 
 
 way to Bagdad one happy morning in spring- 
 time. The Wonder was a big boy now, 
 quite twelve years old, and full of childish 
 fun and frivolity. His father laughed to" 
 see his playful tricks of urging on the 
 aging donkey's pace, and lingered with a 
 strange fascination to watch mother and son 
 gradually disappearing in the distance that 
 marked the approaches to Bagdad. How 
 glad would he have been of their company, 
 but as they faded from view he turned back 
 to the work of equipping them for their next 
 journey. 
 
 The Wonder was more engaging than ever 
 on that particular day, and when his mother 
 reached her stand in the market he nimbly 
 unloaded the beast, deftly arranged the 
 baskets about her, and was lustily crying her 
 goods, to the amusement and delight of all 
 the passers-by. 
 
 She had sold of her choicest, and the 
 Wonder had reaped his usual tithe of the 
 benefits, when a decrepit old lady came 
 hobbling past the stall. 
 
 " Any apricots to-day, madam ?" the boy 
 inquired in a somewhat roguish tone of voice. 
 
 " Apricots . . . : Who sells apricots so early 
 in the season ?" the lady asked in sharp and 
 querulous tones. 
 
 229 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 " It is only the boy's fun, my lady," the 
 mother hastened to apologise. 
 
 " Fun, indeed !" was the snarling retort. 
 " Since when do sellers in the market try to 
 add to the number of their customers by 
 being funny at their expense ?" 
 
 The question was asked in a way that made 
 the mother look more closely at the speaker. 
 She had been selling vegetables for over six- 
 teen years in Bagdad, but had never before 
 seen that shrivelled-up figure among the ranks 
 of the purchasers. The little lady presented 
 a very curious sight ; she was almost bent 
 double with age or infirmity ; the hands 
 which supported her tottering frame on two 
 sticks were almost like bird's claws ; two 
 cruel sharp eyes peeped out through openings 
 in a veil which barely disguised a very long 
 beak-shaped nose. So forbidding was the 
 impression created by this uncanny woman's 
 appearance that the mother would have been 
 glad if the little creature would have passed 
 by her stall after administering her sarcastic 
 reproof. To her horror, however, the old lady 
 came nearer, and began to examine what was 
 left in the baskets with inquisitive interest. 
 
 " What's that you have got ?" she snarled, 
 poking one of her sticks forward at a pile of 
 
 greenstuff. 
 
 230 
 
Dame Nose 
 
 " Young spinach, madam." 
 
 " Rubbish !" 
 
 " The best is sold . . ." 
 
 " What's that, then ?"^ 
 
 " All that's left of some small cabbages." 
 
 " Rubbish, too !" 
 
 " If you wiU honour me with an early 
 visit next market-day, I will try to satisfy 
 you." 
 
 " Hm ! More rubbish !" 
 
 " I will promise you of the best for the 
 season." 
 
 " So you may, if I come near you again." 
 
 " It won't matter much if you keep away, 
 Dame Nose !" the Wonder interrupted. He 
 had been observing the httle lady curiously, 
 had followed the conversation, and was 
 rather stung by the scanty notice paid to his 
 mother's obvious attempts to conciliate an 
 unusually difficult customer. 
 
 " Ah ! little boy, I had quite forgotten 
 you," the old lady said with mockful tender- 
 ness. " As you seem to Uke my nose, I will 
 take a fancy to your mother's cabbages. I 
 can also do \\dth the spinach ; and, reaUy, 
 now I come to look at her baskets, those 
 little radishes would just give a relish to my 
 supper. How much may I owe you, my 
 good woman ?" she added, after she had 
 
 231 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 stooped down and carefully selected the best 
 of the vegetables. 
 
 The price was named and promptly paid. 
 The money rang true as it was counted out, 
 and, being more than the mother had ex- 
 pected to get for such leavings of the day's 
 sales, she was inwardly congratulating her- 
 self on having had the best of the deal, when 
 the difficulty of removing the stuff arose. 
 
 " I'm too old and feeble to carry such a 
 weight of garden produce," the little lady 
 remarked. 
 
 "Let me call a porter for you," the mother 
 suggested. 
 
 "It is hardly worth while engaging a man 
 for the job. These market porters are so 
 exorbitant. Won't your merry boy oblige 
 me ? I dare say I can find a little bit of 
 silver for him," the old dame said. 
 
 " Oh yes, I'll go with you !" the Wonder 
 exclaimed, delighted at the prospect of sharing 
 on his own account in an unexpectedly profit- 
 able stroke of business. 
 
 The mother was strangely reluctant this 
 time about consenting to let her son go ; still, 
 as the little fellow had really been to blame 
 in the first instance for the unpleasant im- 
 pression she had formed of her customer, there 
 seemed to be no sufficient reason why she 
 
 232 
 
The House of Enchantment 
 
 should object to the boy going ; besides, as 
 she also inwardly reflected, it was never safe 
 to judge people by their outward appearance, 
 and the old lady might well be the very 
 soul of goodness for all her forbidding looks 
 and crabby temper. 
 
 The Wonder quickly put an end to further 
 hesitation by neatly arranging all the pur- 
 chases in one basket, which he gaily shoul- 
 dered, and then, jokingly bidding the little 
 lady make haste to show him the way if he 
 was to be in time to accompany his mother 
 home before nightfall, he followed her pain- 
 fully tedious progress towards her house. 
 
 II 
 
 THE HOUSE OP ENCHANTMENT 
 
 Never before in all his errands about the 
 thoroughfares of Bagdad did the urchin have 
 such a devious course set him as he was now 
 condemned to pursue. He might have prided 
 himself once on knowing his way about the 
 city, but he was taken on this journey, for the 
 first time in his life, through such a maze of 
 side-streets and alleys, under dark tunnels so 
 long and low, and into quarters so dreary and 
 desolate, that he was wholly bewildered. 
 233 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 Besides, he was really getting quite tired of 
 walking, and the load that was so light at first 
 was becoming positively irksome to bear. 
 He ought to have lost patience and refused 
 to be dragged about any longer in this ap- 
 parently aimless fashion, but he seemed to be 
 under the spell of a weird fascination that 
 strangely curbed him just when his naturally 
 restive spirit was most inclined to rebel 
 against taking another step forward. 
 
 At last, when his limbs almost refused to 
 obey him, and his patience was utterly ex- 
 hausted, his guide suddenly stopped outside 
 the dingy front of a neglected-looking house. 
 
 Before the Wonder exactly knew how he 
 had gained admission into it, he was standing 
 on the floor, polished as smooth as the most 
 highly burnished glass, of a wide hall or 
 vestibule. Quick as thought his decrepit, 
 halt, and hmping leader had slid across its 
 slippery surface, and he was stupidly 
 struggling to reach her with his load, when 
 he took a great slide, and would most cer- 
 tainly have come to sorry grief if a laughing 
 pair of female servants, emerging from no- 
 where, had not suddenly hastened to support 
 him. 
 
 Their voices were fresh and joyous, but 
 looking at them, when he did at last feel his 
 
 234 
 
Illllll 
 
 11. li- 
 
 m.. 
 
 " ' "»i> i> ill I njll'iliJIjil 
 "^e was ho,f,jied to see 
 "■ta'fo/„pulsnecnat,„,s' 
 
The House of Enchantment 
 
 feet, he was horrified to see that they were a 
 hideously wizened couple of repulsive crea- 
 tures, whose features were drawn and dis- 
 torted into beaklike shape. 
 
 A mischievous question as to whether they 
 were birds, beasts, or fishes was on his lips, 
 when the rasping voice of the old lady bade 
 him empty his basket. 
 
 " I said it was all rubbish," she remarked, 
 as, to his appalled senses, he found himself 
 turning out a whole heap of indescribably 
 loathsome odds and ends of garbage. 
 
 " My mother never sold you that stuff !" 
 he indignantly protested. 
 
 " Didn't she, boy ? Then how comes it 
 here ?" the old dame snapped out. 
 
 " But this is not what you bought from 
 us!" 
 
 " I bought what you carried, and that is 
 what was in your basket. Can you deny it ?'' 
 
 " We don't sell filth Uke this !" 
 
 " You sold me what you yourself brought 
 into this house." 
 
 The Wonder looked and looked again. 
 
 " It's not possible !" he blurted out, the 
 tears gathering in his eyes. 
 
 " You need not cry about it," the old lady 
 remarked in somewhat softer tones. " Here 
 it is, and I shall have to make the best of it. 
 
 235 
 
The Wonder=Child 
 
 for I certainly can't trudge out again to-day. 
 I'm as hungry as I am tired. Girls !" she 
 added, " pick those things up, take them to 
 the kitchen, and get my dinner ready at 
 once !" 
 
 The ugly pair of servants hastened forward, 
 scooped the purchases back into the basket 
 with their misshapen claw-fingers, and mys- 
 teriously disappeared. 
 
 The Wonder watched their movements 
 with curious interest, but they had no sooner 
 vanished than he recollected that they had 
 taken his mother's basket with them, and 
 that before he could gain the street he must 
 cross that treacherously smooth expanse of 
 floor. 
 
 The queer old lady must have divined his 
 perplexity from the expression of his face, 
 for she broke into a kind of cackle, and said : 
 
 " Don't look so worried, little man ! You'll 
 get back to your mother soon enough. The 
 girls will quickly be here with my food, and 
 you may just as well see what a savoury dish 
 they can concoct even from such stuff as 
 you sold us. They will also bring back your 
 basket and help you out of the house. Won- 
 derful cooks, those girls, and as wonderful 
 floor polishers ! But for them I should have 
 been dead long ago. They know exactly 
 
 236 
 
The House of Enchantment 
 
 what is good for me to eat, and, though they 
 have scrubbed the marble of the hall till it 
 is like glass, they have practised walking on 
 it so steadily that I can always rely on not 
 breaking my neck over it when they are at 
 hand to support me." 
 
 The boy felt strangely uneasy at heart, in 
 spite of the more conciliatory tones in which 
 he was addressed. He dared not look at the 
 speaker, and ruefully measured the distance 
 that separated him from the freedom of the 
 open air. His legs were twitching to brave 
 the dangers of that slippery floor and to 
 make a desperate dash to escape from sur- 
 roundings so uncanny and oppressive ; but 
 while he was still mentally calculating his 
 chances of escape at the risk of a bad fall, 
 ringing peals of laughter claimed his attention. 
 
 The pair of dreadful harpies were once more 
 on the scene. They were more hideous than 
 ever to look at, with their pinched features 
 long hooked noses, and parched and withered 
 limbs and bodies, yet there was a ring of 
 youth in the sweetness and merriment of 
 their laughter and speech, and more than a 
 wondrous sense of playful girlishness in the 
 way they flitted hither and thither, making 
 the necessary preparations for the meal they 
 were to serve. 
 
 237 
 
The Wonder=Child 
 
 The old dame was strangely indulgent to 
 their frivolities. It was hard to believe they 
 were mere slaves of her whims, though the 
 mischievous way in which they artfully 
 dodged out of too close reach of her hands and 
 the angry scowl which every now and again 
 swept over her cruel face were eloquent of the 
 silent tyranny she exercised over them. 
 
 A hot and smoking dish was at last pro- 
 duced. Its appetising smell quickly aroused 
 the latent pangs of hunger in poor little 
 Wonder's tired and famished frame. 
 
 " Come and eat, boy !" the little lady said. 
 
 And eat he did, as he had rarely eaten in 
 his life. 
 
 " Your mother's rotten cabbages and de- 
 cayed spinach were not so bad, after all, 
 eh ?" she cheerfully remarked, after he had 
 dipped his fingers rather freely into the various 
 savoury messes that were temptingly dis- 
 played before him. 
 
 The ministering harpies laughed queerly, but 
 they were too horrid to attract his attention 
 for a minute. He was asked to enjoy him- 
 self, and enjoy himself he would, even though 
 his poor anxious mother was waiting for him 
 in the market-place before she packed up 
 and drove the lightly burdened donkey home- 
 wards into the country. 
 
 238 
 
The House of Enchantment 
 
 What a lovely sleep he had had, too, after 
 his delicious and satisfying meal ! And, 
 dreams of such adventures as surely the 
 great Caliph, in his most whimsical moods 
 had never enjoyed, though all the magicians 
 of the east had conspired to transport their 
 august master into the most airy realms of 
 Fancy and Romance. 
 
 It seemed to him, as he thought of it aU, 
 that he had gently been spirited away into 
 a curiously topsy-turvy kind of a world, 
 where everything happened just as he would 
 least have expected it to happen. The 
 ordinary experiences he had gathered of life 
 were worthless to guide or direct him. At 
 one minute he was talking to ordinary human 
 beings, but before he knew how, they were 
 transformed into the most grotesque forms of 
 birds or beasts, which promptly engaged in 
 ridiculously extravagant antics and capers. 
 A charming forest of well-grown trees sud- 
 denly shrivelled up into a crowded market- 
 place filled vdth diminutive performing elves, 
 while the noisy precincts of a busy town were 
 as quickly enchanted into a dense grove of 
 whispering palms. Listening to the rustle of 
 their waving plumes, he would just begin to 
 overhear scraps of conversation that in- 
 terested him, when they danced out of view, 
 239 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 and left him staring vacantly at a kitchen- 
 fire. 
 
 Whatever other memories of his travels 
 through Dreamland recurred to his waking 
 thoughts, it was curious that all his recollec- 
 tions of his fantastic experiences were always 
 cut short by visions of kitchen-fires. 
 
 Hot they undoubtedly often were, and 
 they took a deal of keeping up at times, but 
 there was a strange attraction about them ; 
 they helped him to do such absurdly im- 
 possible feats. 
 
 Rotten eggs, tainted meat, putrefjdng cab- 
 bages, withered-up lettuces, cankered turnips 
 and carrots, mouldy rice and flour — what 
 mattered it to him how bad the materials 
 supplied to him were ? He had only to 
 handle them this way or that, heap the 
 charcoal up in his row of little furnaces, rake 
 the fires till they glowed, and the most de- 
 licious dishes were ready at hand. 
 
 If at times he was wholly staggered by the 
 demands made on his skill and ingenuity, two 
 weird and birdlike creatures were always 
 ready to inspire his failing courage and to 
 urge on his despairing efforts. 
 
 He loathed them for their ugliness, and sus- 
 pected the motives of the lively interest they 
 took in his performances to be due to the 
 
 240 
 
The House of Enchantment 
 
 relief his skill afforded them from duties that 
 were properly theirs ; still, he owed them 
 some gratitude for developing his marvellous 
 talents for cookery, while their chatter and 
 laughter never ceased to exercise a wistful 
 charm over him. 
 
 There was a haunting music of youth and 
 beauty about their sweet voices. The prettiest 
 girls in his native village never talked or 
 laughed with anything like the joyous gaiety 
 that was theirs ; but how dreadful was the 
 shock always, when, thinking himself de- 
 ceived about their appearance, he was bold 
 enough to look up at them ! They were the 
 most monstrously hideous beings he had ever 
 set eyes on ; his blood positively curdled at 
 the sight of their deformed bodies, mis- 
 shapen limbs, and horrible noses. 
 
 Ill 
 
 BEWITCHED 
 
 It was some time before little Wonder could 
 really believe that he was awake, for his sleep 
 had been so heavy and his dream adventures 
 so vivid and exciting. 
 
 But there was that nasty slippery floor, and 
 there, too, was his mother's basket to bring 
 24t Q 
 
The Wonder-Child 
 
 him to his senses. What would his poor 
 mother be thinking of him, to forget all about 
 her, and to keep her waiting for him while he 
 had dawdled so long, and had been eating 
 and sleeping on his errand ? 
 
 He picked himself up, though not without 
 some effort, for he felt very stiff after his 
 doze, and was stupidly awkward and ungainly 
 in his movements. But he never hesitated 
 for a moment what to do. In a trice he had 
 somehow managed to stride safely over the 
 treacherous floor of the hall, and, flinging the 
 house-door open, tumbled breathless and 
 reeling out into the street. 
 
 He could not help laughing at himself for 
 a clumsy creature as he tottered in a top- 
 heavy fashion from one side of the road to 
 the other, now into this wall and now into 
 that. He seemed to be all head and nose 
 from the bumps he got on both, while he had 
 apparently lost all use of his neck, and had 
 to turn round bodily to see where he had 
 come from and whither he was going. 
 
 He had been floundering hopelessly about 
 in a labyrinth of deserted streets and by- 
 ways that were absolutely unknown to him, 
 when he emerged at last into the more fre- 
 quented quarters of the town. 
 
 The sight of busy, moving throngs of men 
 242 
 
Bewitched 
 
 cheered him, and steadied his uncertain gait. 
 But he was soon perplexed by the prompt- 
 ness with which people opened a passage for 
 him and by the talk he overheard about a 
 singular dwarf with a big head, long nose, 
 and horrid crooked back. 
 
 Like the mischievous, cruel, curious boy 
 he was, he pressed forward ever more eagerly 
 to see the monster everyone but himself was 
 watching and ridiculing, but for the life of 
 him he could see nobody and nothing to jeer 
 or wonder at. It was a very ordinary crowd 
 of human beings that met his gaze, and, being 
 at last on familiar ground, the thought of 
 his mother overcame his inquisitiveness and 
 urged him to disregard the vulgar excitement 
 of those around him. 
 
 And so it was that he at last came to the 
 well-known market-place, to find his good 
 mother sitting as usual among her baskets. 
 
 She looked very sad and strangely aged. 
 There was no vestige of a smile on her face 
 and no joy in her eyes when a customer 
 approached her. 
 
 " What a wretch I am !" he mentally ex- 
 claimed, after watching her for a few minutes ; 
 and then, tearful and contrite, he sneaked up 
 behind her, laid his hand affectionately on 
 her arm, and said in his tenderest voice : 
 
 243 
 
The Wonder-Child 
 
 " Mother dear, what ails you ? Are you 
 very, very angry with me ?" 
 
 The woman quickly turned her head round, 
 and then shrank back terrified from his 
 touch, with a shrill cry of horror. 
 
 " You hideous little creature ! What do 
 you mean by talking to me ?" 
 
 " Surely, mother ..." 
 
 " Mother ! How dare you ' mother ' me ?" 
 
 " But you are my mother, are you not ?" 
 the boy inquired timidly, alarmed by her look 
 and gestures. 
 
 " Your mother, you misshapen, distorted, 
 unholy imp ! Your mother ! I've had 
 enough of grief and trouble in my life through 
 such accursed frights as you once crossing my 
 sight ! Begone, I say, or I shall be mad 
 enough to knock the breath out of your ugly 
 little body !" 
 
 Her rage was so fearful, and the attitude 
 she assumed so violent and threatening, that 
 the unhappy little fellow had no alternative 
 but to beat a hasty retreat. 
 
 For a while he lingered ruefully within a 
 respectful distance of her, hoping against 
 hope, as the time went on, that she would 
 turn to look at him and recognise him. But 
 she stedfastly refused to glance his way, and 
 every now and again she would bury her face 
 
 244 
 
Bewitched 
 
 in her hands, till his kind heart broke to see 
 her so changed, so sad, and so afflicted, and 
 he stole away to weep in silence and to draw 
 such poor comfort as he could from the bitter 
 reflection that, either owing to his thought- 
 less delay in returning to her or through some 
 extraordinarily sudden breakdown, the dear 
 good soul had been deprived of her reason. 
 
 His own senses seemed to have forsaken 
 him in the complete bewilderment caused by 
 his mother's heartless conduct towards him. 
 
 It ought to have been late in the after- 
 noon and in full time to go home when he 
 reached the market-place, instead of which 
 the scene before him bore all the signs of a 
 busy forenoon. 
 
 Worried and perplexed. Little Wonder re- 
 treated to the quieter side-streets, to seek 
 relief for his harrowed feelings, and to decide 
 what he should do with himself, since his 
 own mother had rejected him. 
 
 The only refuge he could think of was his 
 home. It was a long way off ; the lonely 
 walk thither in the heat would be slow and 
 tedious ; still, what else could he do but 
 trudge countrywards and so convince his 
 distracted mother on her return at the end 
 of the day that he was the child she had so 
 barbarously spurned in the city ? 
 245 
 
The Wonder=ChiId 
 
 The midday sun was beating down hotly 
 over the weary land when the boy at length 
 stood outside the famiUar house in which 
 he had been born and bred. 
 
 He knew where the " lab'n," or sour milk, 
 was kept, and, having refreshed his parched 
 lips with a good draught of it, he passed out 
 to the garden, where his father should be 
 working. 
 
 Yes, there he was, the same father who had 
 been so proud and so fond of him ; and yet 
 not the same, for it was impossible not to 
 notice that his back was less supple and the 
 joints of his arms more stiff than had been 
 their wont. 
 
 A horrible dread came over the boy, and 
 he approached the toiling figure with furtive 
 step and sad forebodings. 
 
 He had been standing at the gardener's 
 elbow for full ten minutes before the man at 
 last became aware of his presence, and turned 
 a frightened look upon him. 
 
 " Good-day, kind sir ! How fares it with 
 you ?" Little Wonder ventured to remark, 
 after an embarrassing pause. 
 
 " Badly, my little man, badly !" replied the 
 peasant in a somewhat strained tone of voice, 
 which struck the boy with dismay. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that ; but why so ?" 
 246 
 
Bewitched 
 
 he asked, hoping against hope that he might 
 yet be deceived in his worst fears. 
 
 " Old age, master ; work is not so easy as it 
 used to be." 
 
 " But it pays you, surely ?" 
 
 " It pays, Allah be praised ; but it is 
 cheerless." 
 
 " Cheerless ! Money is always cheer." 
 
 " You're wrong there, little friend ; money 
 is money, but it brings no cheer for lost 
 happiness." 
 
 " You must really be very unhappy, then, 
 to talk so sadly." 
 
 " You may well say so, for I have lost the 
 light of my eyes, the joy of my life, and what 
 should have been the stay and prop of my 
 old age. I had a son once ; he was my only 
 child. His mother and I had waited long 
 enough for him, but he came at last, and 
 brought us all the treasure of heaven and its 
 blessings. A bright, lovely boy he was, 
 brimful of life, as sharp as a needle, and as 
 willing and helpful as he was quick and re- 
 sourceful. I often think we loved him too 
 fondly ; we certainly were more than wisely 
 proud of him ..." 
 
 The old man's voice began to break, and 
 he paused to control his feelings. 
 
 " Your son is not dead, is he ?" Little 
 247 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 Wonder asked, hardly knowing what he said 
 in his utter amazement at having to stand 
 by and listen to a grief he could not for the 
 life of him comprehend. 
 
 " Dead ! Who knows ? He may be dead, 
 he may be alive ; but it is some seven years 
 since he vanished in the streets of Bagdad, 
 whither he had accompanied his mother, as 
 was his wont on market-days. And this is 
 what adds to the burden of my sorrows. The 
 good woman is nearly out of her mind, and 
 it is no use my trying to relieve her troubles, 
 for she is tortured by the thought that she 
 is responsible for our great loss. Often 
 enough I used to pray her to leave the boy 
 with me, that he might learn while young 
 how to work in the garden ; but she seemed 
 almost afraid to trust him out of her sight, 
 and he certainly got to be very useful in 
 bringing her customers." 
 
 " Did you say it was seven years ago since 
 your son was lost to you ?" Little Wonder 
 inquired nervously. 
 
 " Yes, little man, seven years ; but why do 
 you ask the question in that comically solemn 
 fashion ?" The old man drew himself up as 
 he spoke, and fixed a searching look at the 
 poor distracted boy. 
 
 If Little Wonder's eyes could have spoken 
 248 
 
Bewitched 
 
 they would have pleaded more effectively 
 than any words he could utter for recognition. 
 Unhappily, all the love and yearning they 
 mutely sought to express were wasted on the 
 strangely distorted vision of his father. The 
 man should have seen that piteous appeal to 
 be recognised ; the sunshine of joy should 
 have flashed on his worn features, and his 
 arms should have been opened wide to wel- 
 come his lost son to his aching heart. But, 
 alas ! his aged face only grew sterner the 
 longer he looked ; then a smile began to 
 creep round the corners of his mouth, and 
 presently a loud laugh rang out in the solemn 
 stillness. 
 
 " You're the funniest little fellow I have 
 seen for many a day !" the gardener exclaimed, 
 stooping down to his work again. 
 
 " Why am I funny ?" the boy asked, woe- 
 fully perturbed in spirit, but seriously anxious 
 to know what could have happened to change 
 him outwardly, so that neither his own father 
 nor mother might know him. 
 
 " Look here, master, I have had quite 
 enough of you for to-day," was the stern 
 reply. " You can't say I have not been 
 very civil to you ; I never remember to have 
 spoken more confidentially to an utter 
 stranger. The soft qualities of your voice 
 
 249 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 betrayed me to a frankness that has eased 
 my sorrows. It is good at times to hear in 
 actual words what a troubled soul only 
 listens to in silence. I mean no offence, but 
 pass on if you have any pity for affliction in 
 your nature. Let others, with less reason 
 than I have to dare further calamity, tell 
 you what you look like, and if you really do 
 not know what made me foolish enough just 
 now to laugh at you, go to the nearest barber 
 and examine yourself in a looking-glass." 
 
 Little Wonder lingered for a few minutes 
 till the tears began to dim his eyes, and his 
 poor heart throbbed as if it must really break. 
 Even if his courage had not entirely vanished, 
 he could no longer trust his voice to utter 
 what he fain would have spoken, and he there- 
 fore turned and went his way along the weary 
 road back to the city. 
 
 Hard by the south gate of Bagdad was the 
 well-frequented shop of Aziz the barber. The 
 man had taken a kindly interest in him when 
 he trudged in and out of the market at his 
 mother's side, and had more than once 
 laughingly promised to give him his first 
 shave for nothing. 
 
 If business had not been slack, and Aziz 
 otherwise engaged than in lolling outside his 
 premises, Little Wonder might neither have 
 
 250 
 
Bewitched 
 
 remembered the man's friendly disposition 
 towards him nor the parting advice given 
 him by his father. But being suddenly 
 reminded of both, he pulled himself together, 
 and, with such assurance as he could com- 
 mand, he bUthely approached the jovial- 
 looking barber. 
 
 " You offered me a free shave once, Aziz, 
 I have come to claim it," he said with a laugh. 
 
 " Goodness gracious me, my little man, 
 what do you mean ?" the barber exclaimed, 
 looking him curiously up and down. 
 
 " I mean what I say !" 
 
 " Oh, is that it ; then step in by all means, 
 and let me shave off your pretty nose before 
 I can see who you are and what is growing 
 on your lip and chin." 
 
 " My nose, friend !" 
 
 " You are doubtless aware that jon have 
 such an unimportant thing as a nose, master !" 
 
 " I am aware of nothing that would justify 
 you in being rude to me." 
 
 " Hoity-toity ! A looking-glass is more in 
 your line than a razor." 
 
 " Possibly." 
 
 " Well, just you step this way, then, and you 
 shall have the use of the biggest glass I have." 
 
 Little Wonder followed the barber into the 
 shop, where after some search, accompanied 
 251 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 by many pleasantries and other buffoonery, 
 Aziz at last produced a good-sized mirror 
 and fixed it conveniently to the wall. 
 
 " Now, my most honourable, most worthy, 
 and most respected patron, if it please your 
 worship to see a sight that may trouble you 
 as much as it amuses me, you are welcome !" 
 
 The barber stepped aside with mock defer- 
 ence, and the boy, looking up at the reflection, 
 started back with a cry of horror. 
 
 " Hullo ! hullo ! What's the matter ?" 
 
 " Take away that glass !" 
 
 " Take it away ! What do you mean ? 
 Did you not ask for it ?" 
 
 "It's one of those horrid things that dis- 
 torts people's appearance." 
 
 "It's nothing of the kind. You won't find 
 a better in all the city," the barber exclaimed 
 indignantly. 
 
 " Then you've bewitched it, or bewitched 
 me." 
 
 " Shame on you, you little monster ! Be- 
 witched it ! How dare you say that ? It is 
 just like the impish spite of your accursed 
 brood to come to an honest man and blast his 
 happiness by throwing the spell of your evil 
 eye on him !" 
 
 " Be merciful to me, Aziz, be merciful as 
 you yourself hope to obtain mercy ; let me 
 
 252 
 
iMiiii!if!'ii(i«ini(ini|iWiWifflfiiiii| !ffli:i!iii(|ini"ii1ii"li'ntll]||il[ii|l(i 
 
 ''Poor Utile Wonder ! IVhat a 
 hideous spectacle he prcstuicd." 
 
Bewitched 
 
 look at myself once more in some other of 
 your glasses," Little Wonder begged tearfully. 
 
 " Pick and choose where you Like in the 
 shop among all the mirrors you can find ; 
 they cannot all distort !" replied the barber, 
 struck by the piteous tone of voice in which 
 he had been addressed, and by the dumb fear 
 lest the uncanny creature before him were 
 possessed of the malign powers superstitiously 
 associated with his kind. 
 
 Poor little Wonder ! No matter where 
 he looked, hanging mirror and hand mirror, all 
 told the same tale of a ghastly, misshapen, 
 hunched-up, repulsive, squat figure, carrying 
 an enormous head that was made more dread- 
 fully conspicuous by a huge hooked nose 
 which wellnigh concealed an enormous mouth 
 and an ugly protruding chin. 
 
 What a hideous, sickening spectacle he 
 presented ! Could he be surprised any longer 
 that the mother who had so fondly idolised 
 him for the fresh young charm of his beautiful 
 face and figure should have been revolted by 
 the claim he made to be her son, and that 
 she should have shrunk with loathing from the 
 touch of his hand ? 
 
 What hands his were, too ! 
 
 He had never thought of looking at them 
 before. They were more hke bird's claws, 
 253 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 with their long, thin, crooked fingers and ugly 
 sharp nails. 
 
 In his painful anxiety to know the worst 
 of himself he adjusted the mirrors so that he 
 might inspect himself all over from top to toe. 
 
 He was a horrid dwarf, a repulsive monster, 
 a nameless terror ! 
 
 His aching little pig eyes were almost 
 starting out of their sockets, and his senses 
 were fairly reeling at the extraordinary change 
 wrought upon him when the barber, who had 
 been closely watching his movements, sud- 
 denly broke in upon his reflections with a 
 loud guffaw. 
 
 " You may well laugh, Aziz ; if my heart 
 was not too heavy I could perhaps laugh with 
 you for what I am to myself and must seem 
 to you." 
 
 " No offence, sir, I hope, no offence. I'm 
 afraid I'm only very human, but I confess it 
 did amuse me, accustomed as I am to minister 
 to the vain instincts of my kind to see how 
 interested you even could be in your personal 
 appearance." 
 
 " Have pity, Aziz !" 
 
 " My occupation teaches pity at every 
 minute it employs me, master." 
 
 " The pity I ask is such as you were never 
 called upon to exercise," Little Wonder 
 
 254 
 
Bewitched 
 
 replied, moved by his sorrows to speak in 
 language that astonished him. 
 
 " You shall have the pity you want if you 
 will make me safe against your evil eye." 
 
 " My eye is not evil, and will bring you no 
 misfortune, Aziz ! Do you know why I 
 address you thus familiarly by your name, 
 and how it comes about that I seem to 
 presume on a previous acquaintanceship with 
 you ?" 
 
 " No, little man, no, and to be quite candid 
 with you, that easy familiarity of yours is 
 just what is most uncanny to me about you ; 
 I do not like it," the barber answered. 
 
 " Do you remember a little boy who used 
 to come in and out of the South Gate on 
 market days with Hilweh, the gardener's 
 wife ?" 
 
 " I do, and it's many a long year since I 
 have seen his pretty little face." 
 
 " He was a fine child, wasn't he ? And 
 his mother was not wrong to be proud, of 
 him. . . ," 
 
 " No indeed ; few who saw him did not envy 
 her for the boy ! I took a strange fancy to 
 him myself." 
 
 " Well, have you ever heard what has 
 become of him ?" 
 
 " No one really seems to know. His mother 
 255 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 either lost him in the market one day, or he 
 was stolen from her. All anybody knows is 
 that he has mysteriously disappeared, and the 
 good woman has been so distracted ever since 
 that it is impossible to discover from her what 
 did actually happen to him ; she is sensible 
 enough on every other subject, but the 
 moment you mention her child she rambles 
 off into the most incoherent stories, smites 
 her breast and weeps and moans till it is 
 painful to see." 
 
 " Poor dear mother !" Little Wonder 
 groaned in spirit. 
 
 " What did you say ?" 
 
 " My heart is torn with grief for my 
 mother." 
 
 " Your mother ! What do you mean ?" 
 the barber cried aghast. 
 
 " I mean, what I see you will refuse to 
 believe. I am the lost son of that sorely 
 afflicted woman." 
 
 A great wild laugh rang out in the empty 
 shop, and Aziz fairly capered about to relieve 
 his feelings. 
 
 " What a lovely story ! Keep your pretty 
 little eyes off me ; look at yourself again in all 
 my mirrors, but do let me enjoy myself for 
 once as I never have done in my life before. 
 I can't help thinking what your mother would 
 
 256 
 
Bewitched 
 
 have to say to you if you told her the tale you 
 are telling me, . . . There would be some 
 danger to your little eyes, I'll warrant!" the 
 barber remarked, when he had sufficiently 
 recovered his breath to speak at all. 
 
 " You promised me pity, Aziz ; well, then, 
 let me tell you my story. If you can laugh 
 after hearing it, I will not grudge having 
 thoroughly amused you." 
 
 " Tell me anything you like, master ; but 
 upon my word, you would be a fortune to 
 me if you would tickle my customers' ears as 
 you have tickled mine. I will give you as 
 good a job as you can hope to get in the city 
 if you will show yourself outside my shop 
 till you have gathered a crowd, and then 
 attract them in to listen to your talk." 
 
 " Hear me out first ; who knows that after- 
 wards I may not be glad to accept your offer 
 of employment. I might well go farther and 
 fare worse than in your service." 
 
 The barber, being at last moved to atten- 
 tion, now heard a story which made his ears 
 bum and fully cured him of aU desire to 
 laugh. 
 
 " This is too horrible if it is really true !" 
 he exclaimed with terror-stricken looks, when 
 the boy had slowly and carefully narrated the 
 details of his weird experiences. 
 
 257 B 
 
The Wonder=ChiJd 
 
 "It is true, Aziz !" Little Wonder cried 
 in imploring tones. " Oh, do believe me ! 
 . . . what purpose could I have in deceiving 
 you ? . . ." 
 
 " Hush, little man ! hush ! and be off for 
 the present ; here is Kadi Mahmood coming 
 to be shaved, which reminds me that I must 
 begin to attend to my business." 
 
 The barber had scarcely finished speaking 
 when a venerable and distinguished old man 
 stepped into the shop. 
 
 IV 
 
 COOK TO THE KADI 
 
 Little Wonder tried to steal out unobserved, 
 but he was somewhat clumsy in his move- 
 ments, and the Kadi fixed his eyes curiously 
 upon the ungainly figure that shambled so 
 awkwardly past him. 
 
 " That's a funny customer of yours, Aziz. 
 I never remember to have seen him here 
 before," the old gentleman remarked, as he 
 sat down and disposed himself to receive the 
 barber's attentions. 
 
 " A very disturbing customer, I assure you, 
 my Lord," was the reply. 
 
 " I should think so ! I don't know that I 
 258 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 have ever seen a more misshapen and repvilsive 
 looking monster in the whole of my life." 
 
 " Nor I either ; I could wish that he had 
 never set foot in this shop of mine." 
 
 The Kadi did not fail to notice a slight 
 tremble in the barber's hands, and, glancing 
 inquisitively upwards, was struck by the 
 anxious look on the man's features. 
 
 " Your uncanny little fellow seems to have 
 upset you, Aziz. Did he come and ask you 
 to shave off his big nose ?" 
 
 " No, my Lord, till he had examined him- 
 self in my looking-glasses he did not even 
 suspect that he was in any way an extra- 
 ordinary and loathsome being !" 
 
 " You are joking, Aziz !" 
 
 " May mirth never again bring laughter to 
 my lips if I am not telling your worship the 
 truth." 
 
 " What did he think he was like to look at, 
 then ?" 
 
 " The comeliest child of twelve years old 
 that ever passed through the South Gate of 
 Bagdad, with the proudest of market-women 
 for his mother." 
 
 " You don't say so ?" 
 
 " I do, my Lord, and as regards that part of 
 his story he spoke truly. It was common talk 
 in the city that there was no fairer boy in 
 
 259 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 Bagdad than the little chap who was called 
 ' The Wonder-child ' on account of his bright 
 looks and brighter spirits, and it is even more 
 common talk in the market to-day that seven 
 years ago he mysteriously disappeared and 
 has never since been seen or heard of, that his 
 once happy mother now sits disconsolate and 
 well-nigh bereft of reason by the garden-stuff, 
 which the mere necessity of providing herself 
 and her husband with a livelihood compels 
 her to sell, and that if she has any heart left in 
 her it is because she still hopes to regain the 
 treasure of a child she somewhat carelessly 
 lost." 
 
 " You astonish me, Aziz ! And I, a Kadi 
 of Bagdad, have never even heard this 
 amazing story ?" 
 
 " But there would seem to be witchcraft in 
 this particular case, my Lord !" 
 
 "Witchcraft! Witchcraft!" the excited 
 Kadi exclaimed, rising and stamping furiously 
 on the floor. " This is worse than ever ! 
 Witchcraft in Bagdad, and I not told of it ! 
 Speak, man, tell me what has happened !" 
 
 Though taken aback for the moment by 
 the Kadi's wrath, the barber did his best to 
 recount word for word the amazing story 
 Little Wonder had told him. 
 
 " By the Holy Prophet, this is indeed 
 260 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 enough to make a man's ears tingle," the old 
 gentleman remarked, when Aziz had finished 
 speaking. For a long time he sat gravely and 
 thoughtfully stroking his long white beard. 
 
 " The little fellow says he has gained some 
 wondrous skill as a cook during the seven 
 years of his enchantment ?" he asked at length. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord." 
 
 " To test this skill would therefore be the 
 surest way of proving whether the adventures 
 he claims to have had did really befall him. 
 
 " You have spoken wisely, my Lord." 
 
 " Bring the creature to me. As Kadi it is 
 my duty to investigate the mystery of this 
 occurrence, and I will investigate it to the 
 bottom. I am shortly entertaining my royal 
 master, the Caliph. His Majesty is a hard 
 man to please in the matter of food ; your 
 monster shall then have such an opportunity 
 of displaying his cooking powers. ..." 
 
 " My Lord ! my Lord !" exclaimed the 
 terrified Aziz, throwing himself down on his 
 knees before the Kadi. 
 
 " What ails you now ?" 
 
 " Surely, my Lord, that horrid dwarf has 
 after all cast the spell of his evil eye on me !" 
 
 " How so, man ?" 
 
 " What if he has lied to me ? . What if he 
 cannot cook ? What if his efforts to stand 
 
 261 
 
The Wonder-Child 
 
 the test you impose upon him bring shame 
 and disgrace to you ? Oh, I am undone ! 
 I am undone ! for shall not the dishonour you 
 suffer be visited on me to my utter ruin and 
 confusion. 
 
 " Nay, Aziz, you do me wrong ; be of good 
 cheer ! You must trust me to act with 
 prudence and discretion. You may leave 
 yourself with confidence in my hands, but 
 meanwhile be discreet on your part ; the less 
 you talk about that dwarf the better it will be 
 for you and for me." 
 
 As the Kadi rose to go other customers 
 began to drop in, and it was late in the 
 evening before the shop was empty and the 
 barber found leisure to think of Little Wonder. 
 
 He had in fact cleaned and put away his 
 razors and scissors for the night, and had 
 begun to hope that the gruesome dwarf had 
 been spirited far enough away never to vex 
 him again, when a squeaky little voice at his 
 elbow uttered his name. 
 
 " Oh, it is you, my beauty !" he said, con- 
 trolling his feelings with all the playful grace 
 he could command. 
 
 " Yes, I have come to help you sweep up 
 your shop, if you will let me, and to offer 
 you my poor services for the morrow, if you 
 are still minded to employ me." 
 
 262 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 "No, no, my friend," replied the barber, 
 " I have been thinking matters over, and 
 have, after all, decided that you are no good 
 to me." 
 
 " Oh, Aziz, please don't say that !" 
 
 " I say what I mean. You tell me you 
 are a cook. What's the use of you to me, I 
 ask you ? I am not a confectioner ; this is 
 not a bakery or an eating-house. If you had 
 said you had been apprentice to a doctor, 
 could let blood, draw a t0oth, or even sharpen 
 a knife, I coiild have done with you. ..." 
 
 " But can't I stand outside your shop and 
 tempt people in out of curiosity to see me 
 and talk to me while you shave them ?" 
 
 " No . . . you would be better employed, 
 with all due reverence, as a scarecrow, and 
 do me less harm. You are a cook. ..." 
 
 " And I spoke the truth. But what kitchen 
 in Bagdad would give me a job now I know 
 what I look like ?" 
 
 " Could you cook if I got you a kitchen ?" 
 
 " Cook ! Here, Aziz, shall I make you a 
 soup out of your shop sweepings ; there's a 
 lot of substance and juiciness in hair even ..." 
 
 " Not if you know the heads and chins it 
 comes from." 
 
 " But you would not know." 
 
 " Listen, young man — I suppose I may call 
 263 
 
The Wonder=Child 
 
 you young man, if you are only nineteen 
 years old — I am more than satisfied with my 
 present personal appearance. I want none 
 of your soups, and could have been well 
 satisfied if you had never again darkened my 
 doors ; but as you are here, what do you say 
 to a job in the kitchen of the first Kadi of 
 Badgad ?" 
 
 " I would kiss your hands, Aziz, and say 
 you were the only friend I had found in my 
 trouble." 
 
 " Mind you, I have been a fool to concern 
 myself with you and your affairs ; but what's 
 done is done." 
 
 " I can bring you no harm, Aziz !" Little 
 Wonder cried, throwing himself tearfully at 
 the barber's feet. 
 
 There was no possibility of mistaking the 
 sincerity of the poor dwarf's feelings, for 
 although he would have been ready as a 
 wretched outcast to earn a living in the 
 service of Aziz, the idea of advertising his 
 loathsome figure in the most public way at 
 one of the most frequented of shops in Bagdad 
 had sorely wounded his delicately sensitive 
 nature. 
 
 When the shop was at last swept and 
 garnished, made ready for a new day's work, 
 and then safely locked up, the barber bade 
 
 264 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 his quaint helper follow him at a safe distance, 
 and guided him in the gathering gloom to 
 the Kadi's house. 
 
 There was an extraordinary scene in the 
 great man's kitchen on the following morning, 
 when the judge himself introduced Little 
 Wonder to his head-cook and his astonished 
 stafE. 
 
 If insults, rebukes, scowls, and kicks could 
 have driven the hapless little creature to 
 ignominious flight, he would have disappeared 
 for ever from the sight of his outraged as- 
 sociates in cookery; but he proved to be the 
 very soul of quietness and good nature, and 
 experience quickly showed that there was 
 nothing baneful about him and that in spite 
 of his woeful infirmities, there was no one who 
 could work more nimbly and reliably than he. 
 The fires had never burnt as brightly or the 
 kitchen utensils shone as resplendently before 
 he came. There was a positive magic in the 
 ugly misformed claws that served him for 
 fingers, and no scullion had surely been defter 
 than be in coaxing a sullen hearth to glow, in 
 burnishing the copper ware, or in scouring pots 
 and pans. He was never tired of working, 
 either, and with no temptations to hurry over 
 his tasks in order to have more time to enjoy 
 himself among his fellow-men out of doors, 
 
 265 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 he could always be relied upon to scrub and 
 polish, clean up and whiten, long after the 
 day's labours were over, and thus save his 
 companions in toil many weary hours of 
 distasteful drudgery. 
 
 Though he got little thanks, indeed, for his 
 usefulness, he was more than content when 
 he began to notice the general tendency 
 among his kitchen-mates to treat him with 
 less suspicion and abhorrence. 
 
 Trying to forget all the wrongs he had been 
 called upon to suffer, he was beginning to 
 look forward with quiet resignation to a life 
 of humble service and unrequited effort, when 
 the news ran through the great house that 
 the Kadi was to entertain the Cahph at a 
 sumptuous repast, and that Hassan, the head- 
 cook, was required to give proof of very special 
 skill in the preparation of some altogether 
 novel dishes. 
 
 For days that illustrious personage, clever 
 and ingenious though he was, had been rack- 
 ing his brains and experimenting with all 
 sorts of mixtures and messes to produce a 
 masterpiece, but the more he tried the less he 
 succeeded, so that his temper, which was 
 never of the best, became in the end truly 
 fiendish. 
 
 On the morning of the great day of the 
 266 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 banquet, the commotion in the kitchen was 
 altogether so dreadful that Little Wonder, 
 finding it impossible to get out of the way of 
 the frenzied head -cook and his distracted 
 minions, decided that it would be best for 
 him to withdraw from a scene where his 
 presence was unnecessary, and where he stood 
 a good chance of being knocked down and 
 trodden under foot. 
 
 As there was nothing for him to do else- 
 where in the house and nowhere for him to 
 go, he concealed himself and his ugliness as 
 well as he could in the ample folds of a big 
 hooded cloak and stole out into the street. 
 
 His first idea was to visit the market-place 
 and have a peep at his poor mother, but, 
 reflecting that this could only give him pain, 
 and that he might expose himself to jeers 
 and insults if he ventured into the more 
 frequented thoroughfares, he slunk into the 
 quietest by-ways and kept himself as much 
 as possible out of observation, by walking on 
 the shady side of the street. He must have 
 dawdled along in this aimless fashion for two 
 hours or more, taking no account of where he 
 was going, when he came upon a tumble-down, 
 blackened mass of stones and rubbish, that 
 spoke, with grim eloquence, of some appalling 
 calamity of fire. As he stopped to look at 
 267 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 this ruin he seemed to hear a low waihng 
 sound, and stepping inside a ruined doorway- 
 he saw a little, closely- veiled woman cowering 
 on the ground, and weeping bitterly. 
 
 Moved by pity into forgetting himself, in 
 his desire to relieve the woes of another, he 
 advanced to the sufferer and kindly asked 
 what was the matter with her. 
 
 The effect of his sympathy was to astonish 
 and terrify him. Even as he spoke he could 
 see the poor creature quivering with emotion ; 
 then she jumped to her feet with an agonising 
 cry, threw back the hood which concealed his 
 features and peered into his face. 
 
 " Aghab ! Aghab ! Little Wonder ! Can 
 it be you ?" she almost shrieked. 
 
 What a revolting sight she was, and how 
 the boy shuddered to see her ! Who was she ? 
 How did she come to know him ? 
 
 " Don't you remember me, Aghab ?" 
 
 " Remember you ? Remember . . . ?" he 
 gasped as his memory reeled back to that 
 awful experience of his life. " Are you 
 Habeeba ?" he asked at length, recalling the 
 loathsome form of the only being in all that 
 bewitched existence of his who had ever 
 displayed the least semblance of regard and 
 pity for him. 
 
 " Yes, Aghab, I am Habeeba, accursed like 
 268 
 
fiiriffliiiM[i!i|iffiiii!'!i;iiraiinii)iii|m(iiiiii7i[|iiiiiiiii!i*iiii|ijii(^ 
 
 SJie darcti not eai , 
 she dared not sleep" 
 
Cook to the Kadi 
 
 you, but doomed to witness the horrible end 
 of that awful woman." 
 
 " Is she dead, then ?" 
 
 " Look about you ; this is all her cruel 
 work." 
 
 " Her work ?" 
 
 " Yes, soon after you went, a great change 
 began to come over her. If she was petulant 
 and irritable as you knew her, she gradually 
 grew to be impossible. Nothing we could do 
 would please her. Her mind was peopled 
 with ghastly visions ; she dared not eat 
 because the food was poisoned ; she dared 
 not sleep because we were to kill her. All 
 the powers of darkness must have been 
 summoned to her aid, for the house was alive 
 with the weirdest noises, and for days it 
 seemed to rock and sway to its very founda- 
 tions. But the nights were always the worst. 
 It makes all my blood run cold to think of 
 those awful nights ! How we shivered and 
 quaked ! At last, just when mortal endur- 
 ance could go no farther, the whole place 
 heaved up suddenly, fire broke out, fiendish 
 yells rent the air, and there was a terrific 
 crash of stones and mortar. I alone seemed 
 to have been saved in the wreck, for nothing 
 besides me has stirred in this ruin these three 
 days." 
 
 269 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 " And why do you moan ?" 
 
 " Because, till you came, I could not think 
 what was to become of me. Now tell me, 
 Aghab, where have you been all this long 
 time ? What have you been doing ? Where 
 have you been living ?" 
 
 The poor wretch was so obviously over- 
 joyed at the meeting, and her questions 
 followed one another so fast and excitedly, 
 that Little Wonder's heart went out to her, 
 and he quickly told her the story of his un- 
 happy adventures in the world without. 
 
 A strange joy gleamed in her eyes when 
 he began to relate about his employ in Kadi 
 Mahmood's kitchen, and about the dire con- 
 fusion in which he had left the head-cook, 
 Hassan. 
 
 " Look, Aghab, here is the horrible witch's 
 cabinet ! Do you recognise it ?" she asked, 
 producing the casket of little drawers from 
 the folds of her garments. " Can you re- 
 member," she pursued excitedly, " how its 
 contents never failed us in our emergencies ? I 
 found it, happily intact, amid the ruins. It is 
 all I have been able to save. Who knows that 
 it may not be able to save us ? Take me under 
 your cloak, Aghab ; we are a hideous pair, 
 but if you will only befriend me, now I, too, 
 am friendless, we may yet prepare the CaUph 
 
 270 
 
The Banquet 
 
 a dish that will bring honour to Mahmood, and 
 some reward, perhaps, to our poor selves." 
 
 Much as Little Wonder dishked such close 
 contact with a being even more unfortunate 
 than himself, it was impossible for him to 
 resist such coaxing, and, although he was 
 hopelessly bewildered about the way he had 
 come, the quaint pair of unfortunates did 
 somehow or other find themselves in the 
 Kadi's house well before sunset. 
 
 THE BANQUET 
 
 Hassan was alone in the kitchen. He was 
 wild and weU-nigh demented, for he had 
 ruthlessly banished all his assistants and was 
 at his wits' end to know how he was going to 
 satisfy the exacting demands laid upon him. 
 
 Neither Little Wonder nor his companion 
 spoke a word. They just quietly set about 
 making up the fires, laying the kitchen 
 utensils in order under his hands, and deftly 
 sorting out and preparing the meats and 
 vegetables that were to be cooked. 
 
 The absolute silence of their movements 
 and the skilled manner of their work gradually 
 restored the distracted man to his senses. 
 271 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 " You're a queer pair of frights to be help- 
 ing me so marvellously in my plight. Upon 
 my word, I don't quite know what I am to 
 think of you !" he said, in the first moment he 
 could spare for speech. 
 
 " There is no time to stop and think, 
 master !" Little Wonder ventured to remark 
 in reply, as he thrust a saucepan fuU of 
 dainty meat patties, which Habeeba had 
 cunningly fashioned, into the astonished 
 cook's hands. 
 
 " You are right, little friend, ior the 
 waiters are already coming down to fetch 
 the first dishes," Hassan said, devoting him- 
 self with feverish haste to his arduous task at 
 the long row of ovens before him. 
 
 Never in all his life had the man worked 
 more strenuously or continuously, yet never, 
 too, with greater zest and freedom from 
 anxiety. 
 
 There was an extraordinary method and 
 regularity about the way one course after 
 another was quietly served up, and when the 
 last had been presented the poor man would 
 have sunk down exhausted in his kitchen, but 
 for the command that he was instantly to 
 repair to the banqueting hall. 
 
 Hardly knowing whether disgrace or honour 
 was awaiting him, the anxious cook was 
 
 272 
 
The Banquet 
 
 ushered trembling into the glittering scene of 
 royal splendour and beauty. 
 
 A great clapping of hands welcomed his 
 appearance, and it was prolonged till the 
 Kadi, rising in his seat, brought the applause 
 to an end. 
 
 " Hassan, prince of all cooks, my royal 
 Lord and Master, King of Kings, and Cahph 
 of Bagdad, has signified his gracious pleasure 
 that I should thank you in his name for 
 doing honour to my humble house by the way 
 you have gratified his delicate palate and 
 the grosser appetites of his servants here 
 assembled to share the privilege of his exalted 
 company." 
 
 Hassan raised his head for an instant and 
 cast his dazzled eyes about him. 
 
 " May I speak, my Lord ?" he asked at 
 length, breaking the deep silence that followed 
 a long outburst of cheers. 
 
 " You may, Hassan." The voice was the 
 Caliph's this time. 
 
 " If thanks there be for the cooking that 
 has pleased Your Majesty, such thanks are due 
 to Heaven, not to me, for surely I have been 
 blessed in the last moment of a great despair 
 with help I neither expected nor deserved." 
 
 " You speak in riddles, Hassan," the 
 CaUph exclaimed. 
 
 273 s 
 
The Wonder = ChiId 
 
 " How else should I speak of a mystery 
 such as I beg leave to doubt has not happened 
 in this glorious city of story and romance 
 since the fabled days of the mighty Haroun 
 Al-Rashid ?" Hassan asked, bowing himself 
 to the ground. 
 
 " What is this we hear, Kadi ? Are the 
 splendid annals of my famous ancestor's reign 
 to be revived in our more dull and common- 
 place days ? That would indeed be a sign of 
 divine approval." 
 
 " My Lord, Allah grant that what Hassan 
 can tell us may justify our belief that Bagdad, 
 under your benign sway, is worthy to regain 
 its fame as the home of fairy-story and 
 marvel." 
 
 " Well said, my trusty Mahmood. You 
 have heard, Hassan. Speak now, that we may 
 understand, and that the enjoyment we have 
 had from your cookery may acquire relish 
 from the details of a good old-fashioned story 
 of exciting adventure !" 
 
 The Caliph's words found a ready echo in 
 the hearts of all his listeners, and prostrating 
 himself dutifully, Hassan then began to 
 narrate in simple, honest, and unsparing detail 
 what had happened in his kitchen. 
 
 " My rage was beyond endurance," he freely 
 admitted, " and when I had driven one by 
 
 274 
 
The Banquet 
 
 one of my assistants out of my reach, I was 
 left alone to face the stupendous ordeal of 
 worthily feasting the master of my Lord. 
 Then it was that a disgusting little dwarf, 
 whose presence among my staff had done 
 more than anything to sour my life for days 
 and weeks, suddenly appeared to help me. 
 And, strange to say, he was not alone, or 
 was able in some mystic manner to double 
 himself before my eyes. If he was ugly and 
 forbidding, the other part of him was even 
 uglier and more hideous, and yet never have 
 I known such helpers as they were to me. It 
 makes me shudder to think of them ; but how 
 they worked and what they were able to do for 
 me is beyond any power of language in me to 
 describe. I only cooked what they prepared. 
 Whatever was toothsome, novel, and really 
 deserving of praise in the repast that has been 
 laid before you, is of their doing, and that I 
 may repay the debt I owe them, call them 
 into your august presence, my Lord Caliph, 
 and thank them on my behalf, as you only can, 
 for enabling me to give you satisfaction." 
 
 The story was altogether so amazing, that 
 as soon as it was ended the Caliph commanded 
 the two mysterious creatures to be summoned 
 before him. 
 
 There was a deep hush of anxious expecta- 
 275 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 tion in the brilliant banqueting hall while the 
 messengers hastened to the kitchen to carry 
 out the Caliph's orders. 
 
 When the silk curtains that hung before 
 the entrance to the chamber were at last 
 parted and Little Wonder and his companion 
 appeared before the eyes of the assembled 
 guests, cries of astonishment mingled with dis- 
 appointment suddenly broke the stillness. 
 
 " Hassan ! What does this mean ?" the 
 Caliph exclaimed in rage. 
 
 The poor cook was utterly aghast to see 
 before him a lovely, delicate-looking flower of 
 a girl, clinging timidly to the side of a fine, 
 handsome fellow in all the pride of youth and 
 beauty. 
 
 " Who are you ?" Hassan gasped in a state 
 of breathless stupefaction. 
 
 "Your poor servants in the kitchen, 
 master." 
 
 " This is magic, my Lord, or I am un- 
 done !" the distracted cook exclaimed. " The 
 creatures that helped me were horrors of 
 ugliness such as you have never seen. KiU 
 me, if you disbelieve my words, but what I 
 did tell you was the truth !" 
 
 " Are you the impossible monsters of whom 
 Hassan has told us, and who helped him to 
 prepare so good a feast for us ?" 
 
 276 
 
The Banquet 
 
 For the first time Little Wonder and 
 Habeeba looked at one another, and then 
 shrank apart, terrified and amazed, andwhoUy 
 confounded by the extraordinary change that 
 had taken place in them. 
 
 " Habeeba !" 
 
 " Aghab !" 
 
 " You . . . ?" 
 
 " You . . . ?" 
 
 Neither of them seemed to have a thought 
 of the circumstances in which they were placed 
 and of the necessity they were under to 
 justify the marvellous change each had 
 undergone. 
 
 They were absolutely alone to all outward 
 seeming and to the breathless interest of the 
 exalted spectators about them. 
 
 " Where are your claws, Habeeba ?" 
 
 " And your nose, Aghab ?" 
 
 " My nose . . . ! Upon my word ... it has 
 vanished !" Little Wonder exclaimed, passing 
 his hand up and down his face. " Just look at 
 your feet !" he remarked excitedly. 
 
 " Feet . . . ! Feet . . . ! What feet ...?'' 
 the girl cried, and, peering downwards, she 
 reahsed with amazement that she reaUy was 
 standing once more on a pair of human and 
 altogether shapely feet. In her joy she began 
 to dance round the astonished youth. 
 
 277 
 
The Wonder = ChiId 
 
 " You've got feet, too, Aghab !" 
 
 He looked, and was soon whirling round 
 with her in the giddiest of mazes, 
 
 " Am I really a decent human being ?" he 
 asked at length, in the pause of a tumultuous 
 dance. 
 
 " As truly as you see any charm of girlhood 
 in my despised and hideous form," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " You are a fairy of beauty, Habeeba !" he 
 cried. 
 
 "And you the pride of manly comeliness, 
 Aghab !" she exclaimed, sinking, dazed and 
 exhausted, to the ground, 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Kadi Mahmood !" the CaUph said after 
 an interval, during which he and all around 
 him had been wrapt in mute astonishment 
 at the scene enacted before their bewildered 
 eyes. " Kadi, by the Holy Prophet, this is 
 none other than magic !" 
 
 The solemn tones of his deep voice broke 
 the spell of stupefaction that had enthralled 
 the handsome boy and his lovely companion 
 in an attitude of amazement. 
 
 " Where are we, Aghab ?" the girl said, 
 darting lightly to her feet, and huddling 
 prettily up to her stalwart friend. 
 
 The boy started, put his arm round her 
 278 
 
The Banquet 
 
 graceful, shrinking figure, as if to protect 
 her, and resolutely faced^the distinguished 
 assembly. 
 
 The sight that confronted him, now that he 
 could see, might well have^staggered a braver 
 heart than his. As out of a dream, he re- 
 called the hazy visions of a great festivity and 
 a lordly banquet to the mighty Commander 
 of aU the Faithful, and, blinded by the 
 glitter and splendour about him, and the 
 crowds of eager faces bent upon him, he 
 was struck dumb with surprise and awe. 
 
 " Speak, boy !" the Caliph cried cheerily, 
 in order to help him out of his confusion. 
 
 " Yes, speak, Aghab !" the girl at his side 
 whispered coaxingly. 
 
 " But who will believe, since I can no 
 longer believe myself !" the youth exclaimed. 
 And Aghab was right ; for, though he told 
 his story so that none who heard him could 
 fail to be moved by his words, his hearers 
 parted in the end with incredulous looks at one 
 another as the dawn was tipping the domes 
 and minarets of Bagdad with its rosy fingers. 
 Even poor AbduUah, the gardener, and his 
 sorely tried wife were more amused than 
 convinced when their long lost son came 
 back to their desolate home accompanied 
 by his lovely bride, bringing such a tale of 
 
 279 
 
The Wonder = Child 
 
 adventure as their simple ears refused to 
 credit. 
 
 Happily or unhappily — who shall say ? — as 
 Aghab often had occasion to remark to his 
 devoted Habeeba, the age of Djins, fairies, 
 witches, good and evil spirits, was gone for 
 them. 
 
 The city of Bagdad calmly pursued its 
 wonted course of business and pleasure with 
 little more than a shrug of the shoulder and 
 a sly wink of the eye at the stories which 
 spread from the shop of Aziz, the barber by 
 the South Gate. 
 
 Though Mahmood, the Kadi, and Hassan, his 
 chief cook, were ready at all times to con- 
 firm the details Aziz gave, a careless, matter- 
 of-fact world, out of all sympathy with the 
 mysterious poetry of Life, scoffed frivolously 
 at a story which somehow inculcated the 
 lesson that Age and Infirmity were always 
 worthy of the deepest respect and con- 
 sideration. 
 
 280 
 
Th. 
 
THE BOY AND THE STRANGER 
 
 MANY, many years ago, when the 
 world was much younger than it is 
 to-day, the harbour of Balsora, now 
 so deserted and forlorn, was crowded with ships 
 that poured the wealth of the east on its busy 
 wharves and quays ; for Balsora was the sea- 
 port town of Bagdad, and Bagdad was then 
 among the richest and most famous cities on 
 the face of the earth. 
 
 But although things have changed very 
 much since those dim, early days of which 
 legend rather than history has preserved some 
 records for us, whatever else we may choose 
 to doubt or be unable to explain, or even to 
 understand, we may be certain of one thing — 
 namely, that the people who lived in those 
 times were, after all, very much what the 
 people about us now are : they were good and 
 bad, wise and foolish, honest and dishonest, 
 
 283 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 just and unjust, because, ever since the world 
 began, man, who has done so much to trans- 
 form it, has never been able to transform 
 that strangely constant element in himself 
 which we call Human Nature. 
 
 It is fortunate, in some ways, that this should 
 be so, otherwise what possible interest could 
 there be for us in old Balsora, with its crowded 
 harbour, and in the life of a Httle boy, named 
 Ali Hamed, who was the joy of a poor car- 
 penter, working in one of the largest ship- 
 building yards of the prosperous town. 
 
 Ali Hamed was outwardly a very ordinary 
 type of boy, and in no respects unlike any 
 other healthy child of his age in his love of 
 fun or mischief ; but, hidden away in the 
 depths of his being, all unsuspected even by 
 himself, there were qualities of heart and 
 mind which were gradually to distinguish 
 him with a stamp of his own. 
 
 The first indication his fond father was to 
 have that his son was diflEerently gifted from 
 himself, was to discover that the boy had no 
 aptitude whatever in the handling of adze or 
 hammer, chisel or file. 
 
 With a view of fostering a desire in the 
 youngster to become a skilled carpenter, the 
 man had taken the lad along with him to his 
 work from his tenderest childhood ; but, 
 
 284 
 
The Boy and the Stranger 
 
 interested though Ali Hamed could not fail 
 to be in his father's cunning, he never showed 
 the slightest disposition either to imitate or 
 to emulate it. 
 
 The father hoped against hope that, with 
 time and patient perseverance, the true spirit 
 of carpentry might ultimately be stimulated in 
 the youngster, but all in vain. Ali Hamed was 
 glad enough to spend his time in the company 
 of so affectionate a parent as Providence had 
 given him, but sharp tools were an abomination 
 to him, and he never touched them without 
 disastrous results to his hands and fingers. 
 
 " Strange that the boy should be so 
 clumsy," the father was wont to muse, when 
 called upon time after time to bind up a fresh 
 wound ; but, like the sensible man he really 
 was, he began to add the sober reflection to 
 his remark that clumsiness was, after all, the 
 best proof of uselessness. 
 
 Ali Hamed was therefore wisely allowed to 
 go free. His father would have made a car- 
 penter of him ; if he was not to be a carpenter 
 the great Allah, who knew best, would be able 
 to determine what was to be his future, and 
 meanwhile his own simple duty as a father 
 was to work and work, and pray even more 
 diligently of a Friday at the mosque, that 
 health and strength might be given him to 
 
 286 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 earn his wages and to provide for the wants of 
 himself, his wife, his big family of daughters, 
 and, above all, for the maintenance in 
 apparent idleness of his only son. 
 
 This good father's employer, who was a 
 wealthy citizen of the town, had meanwhile 
 often noticed the boy in the shipyard, and had 
 been struck by his appearance ; and one day, 
 a mere chance giving him the opportunity, 
 he smilingly patted the lad on his bare head, 
 and got into conversation with him. Having 
 ascertained his age — All Hamed was about 
 fifteen at the time— what he did with him- 
 self all day long, who his companions were, 
 and why they were so few, the worthy man 
 was tempted by the keenness of the boy's 
 intelligence to ask him whether he had formed 
 any views about the future. 
 
 " I want to be rich, sir," was the un- 
 hesitating reply. 
 
 " Is that the best thing you can think of ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Because I know what it costs my father 
 and what it will cost me to be poor," 
 
 " Riches do not make happiness." 
 
 " Nor does poverty." 
 
 " They tell me the poor are the happiest 
 because they have no cares." 
 
 286 
 
The Boy and the Stranger 
 
 " Don't believe it, sir. To be poor is 
 curse." 
 
 " But I should be sorry to say that rich 
 were a blessing." 
 
 " I would rather be rich than poor, all tl 
 same." 
 
 The shipbuilder was more deeply impress( 
 than he himself imagined at the time, for 1 
 just laughed good-naturedly and went h 
 way. But, although a boy of fifteen in Ba 
 dad was much older for his years than a be 
 of his age would be in England, even in the 
 more forward days, and might almost 1 
 called a man, there was something stran; 
 and unnatural about a little fellow like I 
 Hamed setting the desire for riches abo 
 all other objects of ambition. 
 
 Most boys in every age have admiri 
 greatness, honour, and renown. Mere weal 
 as such does not appeal to them. But he 
 was a lad who sought wealth first, ai 
 evidently thought little about the manner 
 which it might be got, or about the hono 
 that might be obtained for himself in t 
 getting of it. 
 
 It was some weeks later that an animat 
 and friendly discussion about boys in genei 
 having arisen at the principal baths, the shi 
 builder had occasion to reUeve his mind abo 
 
 287 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 his conversation with the son of one of his 
 carpenters. 
 
 The talk drifted this way and that, as 
 casual talk of the kind very often does. Some 
 praised the boy ; most blamed him ; he was 
 right and he was wrong ; and the company 
 parted in an apparently quite unconcerned 
 mood about the essential problem submitted 
 to their wise consideration. 
 
 Tearing along the streets in the early after- 
 noon a day or two later, Ali Hamed, who was 
 in one of his most boyishly freakful moods, 
 ran into a stern and venerable gentleman, 
 who was not particularly pleased to have his 
 digestion disturbed by a somewhat rude 
 attack on the centre of his economy. 
 
 " You rude, rough, nasty boy ! Can't you 
 keep your eyes open, and not charge into 
 your betters ?" he exclaimed, grabbing firmly 
 at the urchin's hair. 
 
 " I beg your worship's pardon," the boy 
 replied, awe-struck by the formidable-looking 
 personage who addressed him. 
 
 " I should think you did beg mj pardon, 
 you young ragamuffin ! Who are you ?" 
 
 " Ali Hamed is my name, sir." 
 
 " Ali Hamed ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Is your father a ship's carpenter ?" 
 288 
 
The Boy and the Stranger 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! Then you are the boy 
 who -wants to be rich ?" 
 
 For the moment Ali was somewhat taken 
 aback that a man who was a complete stranger 
 to him should tell him what was, indeed, the 
 one absorbing thought of his mind, but 
 knowing no particular reason why he should 
 be ashamed of his ambition in life, or resent 
 its being revealed far and wide, he bravely 
 pulled himself together, aijid looked every inch 
 the determined purposeful boy he really was. 
 
 " Well, well, my fine little man, you per- 
 haps forget that you have not confirmed the 
 remark I was led to make to you just now. 
 In case you have forgotten, I will ask you 
 more directly, are you the boy who wants to 
 be rich ?" 
 
 " I am, sir." 
 
 " Have you considered at aU how it will 
 be possible for you even to begin your first 
 steps on the road to wealth ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I am just waiting on chance and 
 opportunity." 
 
 " A very wise answer," the stranger grunted 
 under his breath ; then speaking more loudly, 
 he added : " Suppose I were what you call 
 Chance, and gave you the opportunity, would 
 you unhesitatingly take it ?" 
 
 289 T 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " But you don't know me, do you ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I have never seen you before that 
 I can remember." 
 
 " And yet you would trust me." 
 
 " You said you were Chance, and could give 
 me Opportunity." 
 
 " I may be a villain." 
 
 " You are Chance, and until I know you 
 would betray me, I have no reason to think 
 of you as a villain." . 
 
 The stranger muttered much between his 
 teeth that was unintelligible to the boy, who 
 coolly stood by and wondered. 
 
 " Do you know Abdulrahman at the 
 harbour ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they say he's been very unlucky 
 with his deals of late." 
 
 " That's the man ; he wants a boy badly. 
 He cannot pay him much, but there is money 
 to be got in Abdulrahman' s business by a 
 smart feUow who can keep his eyes open, and 
 wait five or ten years. Will you go to him ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you direct me to do so." 
 
 The austere stranger knit his brow as he 
 gazed intently at the boy. For a moment or 
 two his fingers played nervously about the 
 great inkhorn that was thrust Hke a dagger 
 through his girdle ; then, as if suddenly master- 
 
 290 
 
The Boy and the Stranger 
 
 ing an impulse to hesitate, he drew out the 
 brass case, took a well-worn reed-pen from 
 its receptacle, dipped it into the spongy sub- 
 stance that was soaked in ink, and inscribed 
 a few symbols on a short strip of parchment, 
 which he held tightly stretched across the 
 palm of his left hand. 
 
 " Take this to Abdulrahman !" he said. 
 
 The boy seized the small scroll that was 
 handed to him, and was gaily darting off 
 towards the harbour, when the venerable man 
 called him back. 
 
 " You may perhaps want this some day or 
 other. You are very young, and I am growing 
 very old. Who knows what may happen to 
 either of us ?" 
 
 And fumbling first in one pocket and fold 
 of his garments and then in another, the 
 worthy person at last produced a rusty little 
 key, which he gave to the boy. 
 
 Ali Hamed was highly amused, and more 
 than ever convinced that he was deaUng with 
 a crank, but he took the worthless-looking 
 little object, dropped it carelessly into his 
 loose open shirt, and hastened off to assure 
 himself that the whole business was not a 
 joke. 
 
 291 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 II 
 
 THE SHOP NEAR THE HARBOUR 
 
 Abdulrahman was poring seriously over a 
 great bundle of papers in the gloomy arched 
 recess that was his office. 
 
 Ali Hamed had been watching him for a few 
 minutes, hardly knowing how to interrupt the 
 occupations of an evidently much worried man, 
 when the lad realised that a pair of benevolent 
 and mild eyes were wistfuUy fixed upon him. 
 
 " Do you want a job, boy ?" asked a kind 
 voice. 
 
 " Yes, sir, that's what I have come for." 
 
 " Allah be praised ! I have put that ques- 
 tion to a score of boys, who only ran away 
 when I spoke to them." 
 
 " I have been sent to you, sir," Ali Ahmed 
 candidly admitted. 
 
 " Sent to me ? By whom ?" 
 
 " I don't know. Perhaps this will tell you." 
 And the boy came forward with the parchment 
 strip that had been given to him. 
 
 Abdulrahman looked curiously at it, knit 
 his eyebrows, shook his head dubiously, was 
 about to return it to the boy, but finally 
 pocketed it. 
 
 " Don't know— don't know " he muttered 
 
 292 
 
irnii;!riiiMi'i:;ri'il,'!:.\y'.jii":iinill|ri|[[ni'ii:i[.]i!, 
 
 Abdulrahman was poHn^ 
 over a bundle of papers." 
 
The Shop near the Harbour 
 
 under his breath. " Look here, boy, will 
 you just mind my shop while I ro down to 
 the harbour for an hour or so ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 ' ' Thank you. There will be nothing for you 
 to do, unless a red-faced, big, black-bearded 
 man calls to see me. If he does, tell him I 
 have gone down to his ship." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Don't attempt to talk to him, and don't 
 let him come in here." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 Abdulrahman had not been gone ten 
 minutes before the boy's curiosity was aroused 
 by his surroundings. There was little to be 
 sure to provoke his inquisitiveness beyond a 
 mass of strangely-worded documents about 
 ships and their cargoes of silk stuffs from 
 India, spices from Arabia, ivory tusks from 
 the African coasts, and slaves from every- 
 where. He was mildly wondering what kind 
 of business Abdulrahman did, when a rough 
 voice suddenly feU upon his ears. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! boy ! my papers, please !" 
 
 Ali Hamed started, but was quick to 
 observe a red face and a black beard. 
 
 "Master has taken them down to your 
 ship." 
 
 " You're a liar !" 
 
 293 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " He waited for you till he thought you 
 must have forgotten them, and then went 
 down to find you." 
 
 " Very strange ! Are you sure ?" 
 
 " Quite. I was particularly engaged to 
 wait for you and tell you this." 
 
 " Then you have nothing for me ?" 
 
 " Nothing, sir." 
 
 The man uttered an oath and disappeared. 
 
 Ali Hamed was glad to see him go, for he 
 would have been puzzled to know how to act 
 if the rough, uncouth-looking fellow had 
 insisted on discovering for himself whether 
 his "papers," as he called them, were in the 
 office ; but the boy's relief was to give place 
 to alarm when hour after hour went by and 
 Abdulrahman did not return. 
 
 Evening was setting in ; the workers on the 
 busy wharves and quays were passing noisily 
 homewards from loading and unloading ships, 
 fetching and carrying, repairing gear, and 
 patching up sails. 
 
 An eerie stillness was beginning to gather 
 on the gradually deserted scene, when a 
 strange-looking man, bending painfully over 
 a crutch, addressed a good-evening to the 
 boy in friendly tones. 
 
 "It's a bad evening for me, friend," Ali 
 Hamed retorted impatiently. 
 
 294 
 
The Shop near the Harbour 
 
 " Why so, my son ?" 
 
 " Because I don't know what to do." 
 
 " What can you expect to do at this time 
 of day but to shut up shop and go home ?" 
 
 " And if Abdulrahman comes back " 
 
 " Abdulrahman !" the decrepit creature 
 cackled, " Abdulrahman ! You take my ad- 
 vice, sonnie, and don't wait for him. He ! 
 he ! he ! Abdulrahman, poor fellow, is 
 tossing about in a rough sea in a ship's 
 hold !" 
 
 " But what about this business of his ?" 
 
 " There's no business to be done to-night !" 
 
 " But to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Never you mind about to-morrow. To 
 morrow is not to-day. Let me help you to 
 shut up as a sign of goodwill, and when you 
 come down to-morrow morning, who knows ? 
 He ! he ! he ! . . ." 
 
 Ali Hamed was sorely puzzled for a minute 
 or two whether to accept this sensible proposal 
 or loyally to abide the return of his employer. 
 His hesitation, however, was altogether dis- 
 regarded, for the man who had been speaking 
 to him had promptly set to work to shut down 
 the place. To his great amazement, too, he 
 was neither a bent nor broken-down looking 
 person, and he seemed to know exactly what 
 had to be done and how to do it. 
 
 295 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 Ali Hamed's bed was none of the most com- 
 fortable at any time, but he had never slept 
 less peacefully on it than during that par- 
 ticular night. He was tired enough and young 
 enough not to keep sleep waiting long, but, 
 though it steeped his eyelids and drugged his 
 senses, never before had such wild and fan- 
 tastic visions tormented his rest. 
 
 Now he was in a vault surrounded by weird- 
 looking written characters and ciphers, then 
 he was rocking in a ship on a rough sea, with 
 a mass of rusty keys jingling in his ears. 
 Talking to a fearsome pirate, he was sud- 
 denly accosted by a benevolent gentleman, 
 who promptly shrivelled up into a gruesome- 
 looking cripple, and, while pity was still 
 struggling against suspicion in his mind, the 
 wretched creature was suddenly transformed 
 into a stalwart man, who juggled amazingly 
 with heavy shop-shutters, rusty keys, dreadful 
 pirates, and benevolent old gentlemen. 
 
 " Ugh !" he sighed out loud at last, in an 
 agony of a nightmare, and, violently heaving 
 himself over, woke to find that a new day was 
 dawning. 
 
 Glad to have escaped at last from such a 
 bewildering turmoil of ideas, he jumped up, 
 rushed out into the courtyard, and, drawing 
 a bucketful of water from the well, soon 
 
 296 
 
The Shop near the Harbour 
 
 splashed his eyes wide open and refreshingly 
 cooled his aching temples. 
 
 The ship carpenter's household was always 
 early on the move, so that Ali Hamed was 
 able to get down to the harbour without 
 exciting any unusual curiosity at home and 
 before the business of the day had begun in 
 shop and office. 
 
 He had been hanging about the shuttered 
 premises of Abdulrahman, wondering whether 
 he should attempt to open them, and if he 
 really could do so by himself, when a cheery 
 voice behind him cried out : 
 
 " Ah, here you are, good boy, it was very 
 thoughtful of you not to wait for me last night." 
 
 Ali Hamed turned round, and, to his surprise 
 and relief, saw Abdulrahman standing before 
 him. 
 
 " Sir," he exclaimed, " can it be you ?" 
 
 " Why, yes," was the good-humoured reply, 
 " who else should it be ?" 
 
 " But " 
 
 " Well, boy, you seem to be uncommonly 
 disturbed." 
 
 Ali Hamed would have tried to be wary as 
 was his wont, but somehow he was compelled 
 to frankness. 
 
 Abdulrahman listened to the whole story, 
 seemed to be highly amused by it, and then 
 297 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 quietly offered to help the boy to open his 
 office. 
 
 " You're a handy little fellow ; have you 
 got a job, by any chance ?" he asked, when 
 all was cleared away and made ready for the 
 work of the day. 
 
 " No, sir," was the ready reply. 
 
 " Will you stay with me, then ?" 
 
 " What do you want me to do ?" 
 
 " Only to be smart." 
 
 " I can but try, I suppose." 
 
 " That's it . . . !" 
 
 " And if I am not smart . . . ?" 
 
 " Well, the best way I can explain what it 
 may mean to you, if you are always as ready 
 as you were yesterday, is this : I can roughly 
 say that by your coming to me when you did, 
 and by your action while in charge here, you 
 saved me at least one hundred gold pieces. In 
 return for that service I will give you five." 
 
 Abdulrahman drew a bag from his bosom, 
 and, bidding the astonished boy approach, 
 promptly proceeded to count out five solid 
 gold pieces into the outstretched palm of his 
 hand. 
 
 " Mind you," he made haste to add, " it's 
 only just that I should warn you not to expect 
 such a good stroke of business every day. I 
 cannot say when you may be able to bring 
 
 298 
 
The Shop near the Harbour 
 
 me luck again, but this I will promise : that 
 for every hundred copper, silver, or gold coins 
 you help me to gain I will give you five ; 
 and I shall hope for your sake and mine that 
 my gains through you may always be in gold, 
 so that you may derive the greatest benefit 
 from my prosperity. Are you satisfied ?" 
 
 " Yes, master." 
 
 And it was on these terms that the bargain 
 was concluded. 
 
 The boy thought little enough about the 
 matter at the time, though he could not help 
 noticing that no one who heard the news of 
 the employment he had found for himself 
 was particularly anxious to congratulate him 
 on it. 
 
 As the days and weeks went by, however, 
 he found plenty of opportunity to ponder over 
 the matter, and the conclusions at which he 
 arrived were contradictory enough to puzzle 
 him. 
 
 He could never have conceived anything 
 more deadly monotonous than the life he was 
 leading. Shop opened in the early morning, 
 shop shut at sunset, and in between intermin- 
 able hours of kicking his heels about the shop- 
 front, while his master in its darker recesses 
 was poring over long strips of figure-laden 
 documents. The little excitement that was 
 
 299 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 furnished by busy people passing up and down 
 the quays, ships loading and unloading, an 
 occasional dispute within earshot, or a rarer 
 fight amongst the wharf-hands, was soon 
 exhausted; and Ali Hamed was more than 
 once on the point of running away, convinced 
 that here was no scope for his ambition, and 
 that this was the secret of the indifference 
 with which his efforts to establish himself in 
 life had everywhere been hailed. But against 
 all that depressing side of the question was 
 the figure of that patient, laborious man, 
 counting, and counting, and always counting. 
 True, it was only columns of figures that 
 were being counted, but, as the boy soberly 
 reflected, what else but money could those 
 figures represent ? Besides, watch Abdulrah- 
 man as he would, there was nothing to indicate 
 that the man was playing a deep game or 
 trying to impose on him or others by a mere 
 show of business and industry. Indeed, things 
 seemed to be all the other way, since for days 
 at a time his strange employer barely recog- 
 nised the lad's existence, and by many tokens 
 proved himself blissfully unmindful of the fact 
 that he was living in a world of busy men 
 furiously struggling with one another to get 
 the most out of life and the best for them- 
 selves into the bargain. 
 
 300 
 
The Shop near the Harbour 
 
 Buoying himself up with such hope and 
 courage as he could extract from the peculiar 
 circumstances in which he found himself, Ali 
 Hamed had spent a year of loyal but un- 
 profitable service in this idle fashion, when a 
 disturbing idea slowly began to shape itself in 
 his ever active mind. 
 
 Abdiilrahman was mad ! 
 
 Worst of all, the deeper he pursued this 
 train of thought the more clearly did it 
 explain the whole mystery which surrounded 
 the man, his transactions, and the kindly but 
 nevertheless guarded attitude of the world in 
 general to his person and his affairs. 
 
 Convinced at last that he had really got the 
 clue to all that was so mysterious and in- 
 explicable about the situation, AK Hamed 
 came down to the harbour one morning firmly 
 resolved that it was to be for the last time in 
 his queer master's service. Abdulrahman was 
 singularly late as it happened, and was wearing 
 such an unusually worried look when he 
 arrived that the boy did not feel it in his heart 
 to vex him at once with 'the announcement 
 of his departure. 
 
 The day was long, he mused ; he would hope 
 for a good opportunity in its course, and 
 meanwhile posted himself in his accustomed 
 place to watch and wait. But the dreary 
 
 301 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 routine of figure-casting was for once not to be 
 repeated in spite of all the attempts his master 
 made to settle down quietly ; and in the end, 
 after restlessly fidgeting about, unfolding 
 documents, then refolding them, trimming 
 his reed-pens, emptying and filling his sand- 
 boxes, Abdulrahman put everything neatly 
 away as he did when work was over of an 
 evening, and, coming forward, informed the 
 astonished boj^ that he was going out on 
 business. 
 
 Uncanny though it was to have close deal- 
 ings with a madman, Ali Haraed, for all his 
 cleverness, was just a child of his time, and 
 had been taught to be considerate to all 
 feebleness, and particularly to reverence the 
 afflicted in mind, partly as an acknowledg- 
 ment of the inscrutable decrees of Providence 
 which ordains such incapacities, and partly in 
 humble awe of the Divine will which some- 
 times chose such frail creatures as the ministers 
 of its stern purpose. 
 
 302 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 III 
 
 STORM AND WRECK 
 
 The late afternoon sun was lighting up the 
 darker recesses of Abdulrahman's office, where' 
 Ali Hamed was squatting on the floor and 
 deeply meditating over what was to become 
 of him, while his eyes were idly wandering 
 round the cave-like place about him — a few 
 shelves here, a nest of drawers there, and 
 cobwebs everywhere! He had either never 
 troubled to look, or must have been unable 
 from his wonted position on the road-level, to 
 get a proper view of his master's surroundings, 
 but once seen the sight utterly appalled him. 
 
 Cobwebs ! 
 
 No wonder people never came on business 
 to such a Paradise of spiders ! 
 
 Ali Hamed had a natural horror of spiders. 
 They had always been to him an emblem of 
 dirt, decay, and misery. With a leap he was 
 on his feet. Though he would not serve 
 Abdulrahman for another day, mere principle 
 compelled him to rid Abdulrahman of such 
 iU-boding evidences of neglect and ruin. 
 
 Never did the boy spend busier hours than 
 while attacking the walls of that grimy vault. 
 
 He had blackened his face, hands, and arms, 
 303 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 and littered the floor with such a collection of 
 
 spiders' webs that he trod as on a soft carpet', 
 
 when he was surprised by a peculiar cackle. 
 " He ! he ! he !" 
 " What are you giggling at ?" Ali Hamed 
 
 asked, hardly knowing whether to be pleased 
 
 or frightened by that well-remembered noise. 
 " He ! he ! he ! What a mess you are in !" 
 " You can't expect me to be clean over a job 
 
 like this, can you ?" 
 
 " No, of course not ! He ! he ! he !" 
 
 " It's no laughing matter, I can tell you !" 
 
 " I quite believe it; but do you know the 
 
 time ?" 
 
 " Never thought of it." 
 
 " Time to shut up shop. He ! he ! he !" 
 
 " But what about these cobwebs ?" 
 
 " You must clear them up to-morrow. 
 
 He ! he ! he !" 
 
 "I'm not coming back to-morrow." 
 
 " You must. He ! he ! he ! It will be dark 
 
 in half an hour ; you'll never finish to-night 
 
 and you cannot leave the place in this 
 
 condition." 
 
 And strangely enough, as once before, while 
 
 he was still speaking the uncouth figure began 
 
 to put up the shutters. 
 
 Here was evidently another madman, whom 
 
 it would be scarcely wise perhaps to thwart, 
 
 304 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 and whether it was too dark to see proper! 
 or whether there was some grim magic abou 
 the boy hardly liked to consider, but the cackl 
 certainly did seem to assume very diflferei 
 and very bewildering aspects as he handh 
 the heavy boards and cunningly adjusts 
 them in their place, 
 
 Ali Hamed was back at Abdulrahman 
 office in good time in the morning. 
 
 Much to his astonishment, after his previoi 
 experience of the cackler, he had neith 
 dreamed dreams nor seen visions, but hi 
 slept the heaviest of sweet sleeps. 
 
 Altogether heartened and refreshed, he hi 
 opened the shop, swept the cobwebs ai 
 dust of the place into a heap in a remo 
 comer, and was scooping up the last of t] 
 litter with his hands, when he grazed 1: 
 fingers on something sharp on the floe 
 Examining the spot more closely, he foui 
 what looked Uke a bit of iron-plating deft 
 let into the boards, but with a slightly pr 
 trading naU in the centre. 
 
 He took out his knife to scrape away tl 
 fine dust round what he thought was tl 
 head of the naU, when he discovered to h 
 surprise the pin of a keyhole. 
 
 He jumped to his feet with a sudden ai 
 vivid recollection of a man who had on 
 
 305 TT 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 given him a rusty key, and was anxiously 
 searching in the bosom of his shirt, among 
 the various odds and ends he carried there, 
 for this almost forgotten trifle, when a stern 
 voice cut short his investigations. 
 
 " HuUo, young fellow, it's you again, is it ?" 
 
 The speaker was that same great, burly, 
 red-faced and black-bearded man who had 
 once before come to the office for his papers. 
 
 Forbidding though the man's aspect un- 
 doubtedly was, Ali Hamed was not sorry to 
 see him, in consideration of the handsome 
 profit he had made out of the ruffian's previous 
 visit. 
 
 " Where is Abdulrahman ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " You don't know, you imp of Satan ! 
 Do you think you're going to send me knock- 
 ing about the high seas for another year or 
 more with your confounded lies ?" 
 
 Before Ali Hamed could realise what had 
 happened the man had leapt up on to the 
 raised kind of stage that formed the floor of 
 the shop, and had gripped him by the scruff 
 of his neck. 
 
 The boy was as plucky as he was high, and 
 furiously set to work to wriggle and hack at 
 the man's shins, but he was no match for the 
 brawny- armed bully who had got him in tow. 
 
 306 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 " Where is Abdulrahman ?" 
 " I don't know, I tell you." 
 " You are an accursed little liar, and by 
 the Prophet ! you shall pay for it !" 
 
 There was no mistaking the tone of fiendish 
 rage with which he spoke, and, almost shaking 
 the life out of the boy, much as a dog would 
 have shaken a rat, he hurled him violently 
 into the back of the shop. 
 
 Whether he was dead or alive Ali Hamed 
 hardly knew, but, when he came to, he was 
 lying huddled up in the corner of a stuffy 
 kind of place, with a strange sound of water 
 hissing in his ears, and an uncomfortable 
 sensation that he was being heaved up and 
 down. 
 
 He was painfully engaged in picking up the 
 clues of memory when he seemed to hear 
 voices about him. 
 
 " The little beast is dead !" 
 " Throw him overboard, then !" 
 " Not I, Captain," said the first speaker. 
 " You say he's dead !" 
 " Ought to be, I should think !" 
 " Why don't you go and see, you idiot ?" 
 The wretched boy was hardly in a condition 
 to care whether he was thrown overboard or 
 not, but, feeling a kick in his side, he groaned 
 heavily. * 
 
 307 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 He did not hear what else was said of him, 
 nor suspect how near he came to being sunk 
 fathoms deep in the salt sea waves, but, aching 
 and suffering in every limb of his body, he woke 
 again to consciousness, to find himself lying 
 in a kind of wooden cupboard on a pile of 
 empty sacks. The slashing noise of water 
 and the dreadful feeling of being helplessly 
 rolled to and fro, then intermittently jerked 
 up and down with great violence, soon con- 
 vinced him that he must be in a ship on a 
 stormy sea. 
 
 A mad desire to reach the light and air 
 drove him to struggle as best he could to 
 his feet, but before he could steady himself 
 sufficiently to stagger forward he was sprawl- 
 ing on his back, dazed and helpless. His fall 
 may have only been due to a sudden lurch 
 of the vessel, but it seemed to his overwrought 
 imagination as if he had been pushed back 
 by an invisible hand, and, unless the creaks 
 and groans of boards and timbers labouring 
 heavily under stress of foul weather could 
 have spoken, it was a very human voice by his 
 side which imploringly bade him as he valued 
 life lie still and suffer. 
 
 What he was to suffer, alas ! woiild only be 
 revol"|ing to describe. 
 
 Whether it was for hours or^days, months 
 308 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 or years even, that he had been moaning o 
 his heart in a long-drawn agony of physic 
 torment, which was intensified by the wilde 
 mental hallucinations, he did not know, b 
 when something like life returned to his tip 
 and exhausted body he was to open his ey 
 and find himself staring vacantly into a dei 
 mass of intense blue. 
 
 Beyond the fact that it was somethii 
 remembered, part of a great fund of experienc 
 accumulated in the past and long dormant 
 the inmost recesses of his sentient being, 
 disordered and unhinged were his faculti 
 that he merely wondered at the impressic 
 produced on him by something he called blu 
 while he asked himself what blue was. 
 
 The laborious process by which he might 
 the end have tediously unravelled the tangh 
 skein of his confused ideas was abruptly di 
 turbed by the sounds of a familiar voice. 
 
 " Allah be praised ! He lives ! His ey^ 
 are open !" was the eager cry of heartfelt jc 
 that rang in his ears; and before he coui 
 move to ascertain the correctness of h 
 impressions the blue above him was darkene 
 by the shadow of a woebegone, dishevellec 
 and rudely battered human being. 
 
 " You speak like Abdulrahman !" he gaspe 
 incredulously, after an agonising pause. 
 309 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " You are right, my son, I am Abdulrah- 
 man !" 
 
 " But " 
 
 " Never mind your ' buts.' Here, put your 
 lips to this gourd ; take a good draught ; it 
 will revive you." 
 
 There was such tenderness in the tone, such 
 solicitude in the gentle way in which his head 
 was slightly propped up to drink, that Ali 
 Hamed was comforted, and took a deep, long 
 pull at the cordial held to his parched mouth. 
 
 " It is good, master !" 
 
 " That's right ! Now, if you will but eat 
 this, too, who knows how quickly your 
 strength and spirits may be refreshed and 
 restored?" And Abdulrahman pressed a soft 
 morsel of food against the boy's teeth. 
 
 Ali Hamed greedily ate it, and yet another 
 and another piece of the same appetising 
 portion. 
 
 " Are you better now, my son ?" 
 
 " Yes, I thank you, but there is a great 
 roaring of water that frightens me." 
 
 " Raise yourself, if you can, and see !" was 
 the reply, while tender arms slowly lifted the 
 still dazed boy into a sitting posture. 
 
 The sight that met his bewildered gaze 
 utterly confused him. He was on a raised 
 ledge of rock above a storm-lashed sea, that 
 
 310 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 was sullenly rocking itself to sleep after a 
 mad bout of ill-temper provoked by a furious 
 gale of wind. Wedged in among the cruel 
 and jagged rocks at some distance below him, 
 and washed over at regular intervals by the 
 great waves that were still running high, was 
 a big vessel, lying helplessly on her side, and 
 straining in every balk and timber. 
 
 " Master, speak !" 
 
 " What shall I speak, my son ; there is the 
 beginning, and who knows if it may not also 
 be the end. That ship you see yonder brought 
 us here ; it will never be able to take us back 
 again; and where we are I don't know." 
 
 " But how did we come to be on that 
 ship ?" 
 
 " You came because it was thought safer 
 to throw you overboard at sea than leave you 
 to be found dead in my shop, and I came 
 because I would sooner be drowned than 
 live without my papers. You will, perhaps, 
 be able to remember sooner or later what 
 happened to you five days ago . . ." 
 
 " Five days ago !" the boy exclaimed, 
 utterly amazed. 
 
 " You may well be astonished, my son. 
 How you have lived through it, I don't know. 
 Certain it is, however, that but for finding 
 you and for the sparks of life that remained 
 
 311 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 in you, I shotild never have been able to 
 survive that agony of suffering we were to 
 share. Marvellous is the work of Providence, 
 though, but for that awful storm, which 
 threatened to be our undoing, I cannot 
 imagine what would in the end have befallen 
 us. As it was, everybody on that wretched 
 ship was too busy during every minute of 
 those long days and nights to have a thought 
 beyond seeking to avoid the terrible fate that 
 did finally overtake her. Early this morning 
 before it was light the end came. There was 
 an awful crash, and you and I were hurled 
 with great force against the sides of our narrow 
 prison. Had it mercifully not been f uU of empty 
 sacks our brains must surely have been dashed 
 out. When I came at last to my senses I 
 realised that it was no longer a time to dread 
 the violence of bad men who might seek our 
 hurt, and, hauling you as well as I could on 
 to the deck, was soon struggling with you 
 towards the shore. The rest you and I will 
 never know, but, unless it be aU a dream, 
 here we are, and I am speaking to you, and it 
 would seem that you can hear and understand 
 me." 
 
 " I hear you, master, and what you say has 
 its meaning, but I have no understanding," 
 AU Hamed said. 
 
 312 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 Abdulrahman brooded for a long space, in 
 a silence that was evidently perturbed by 
 anxious thoughts, 
 
 " Ah, my son," he spoke at length, " all 
 hfe is a mystery. Years ago I was one of the 
 most prosperous business men in all Balsora, 
 but the pride of success and the hope of gain 
 blinded my eyes to the danger of venturing 
 on doubtful enterprises. Once I became in- 
 volved in traflfic with unscrupulous men, my 
 credit in the markets of Balsora began to 
 wane ; but, being of an obstinate and wilful 
 nature, I persisted in my courses till my 
 friends began to forsake me and my enemies 
 to triumph. In a last desperate attempt to 
 retrieve my fortunes, I staked my all on 
 a mad project to discover the hidden horde 
 of the notorious pirate, Soliman the Sailor, 
 and so fell into the dangerous toils of the 
 owner of the wreck yonder — that same red- 
 faced, black-bearded scoundrel who has 
 brought you and me to this pass, because he 
 sought to play me foul and to rob me of 
 my lawful claims to a great share of the 
 treasure that my money had been furnished 
 to find. Was it for nothing, do you think, 
 that I was wont to while away my tedious 
 hours of unwilling leisure in reckoning up 
 long lists of figures ? If the papers I held 
 
 313 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 were to be trusted, I might still be the richest 
 man in all Balsora, and the urgency with 
 which that villain sought to worry me out 
 of those papers gradually confirmed my belief 
 in their value. When he began to find that, 
 discredited, shunned, and pitied, I was no 
 longer able to present myself even in the 
 markets of the city where I had once com- 
 manded influence, money, and respect, his 
 attitude towards me began to change. He 
 began to be ill-tempered, high-handed, and 
 finally, menacing. His returns to the harbour 
 became more frequent, and when the last of 
 those who had served me in my prosperity 
 deserted me, I was sore put to it to know 
 how to avoid his visits. Then you came as 
 a godsend to me. To encourage you to stand 
 by me, I paid you those five gold pieces. 
 Ill as I could have afforded it, I would have 
 given you ten if Fortune had favoured you 
 again five days ago, but your cleaning fit 
 was to have the most disastrous consequences ; 
 for when I returned to the shop at sundown, 
 to cackle to you and to help you to shut up 
 for the night, I discovered, to my horror, that 
 my hiding-place had been wrenched open, and 
 that my precious papers were gone. Crazy at 
 my loss, I immediately rushed down to the 
 port, found, as good luck would have it, that 
 
 314 
 
storm and Wreck 
 
 there had been delay in loading the ship, and, 
 watching my opportunity, sneaked on board 
 in the darkness and commotion. It was not 
 till we were out in the open that I happened to 
 overhear a conversation between the Captain 
 and one of his men, and thus ascertained 
 your fate and your whereabouts. But what 
 need of further words, even if I could speak 
 any more ? I was glad a short while ago 
 to know that your innocent blood was not to 
 rest as a further curse on my poor head, but, 
 after all, it seems to me, indeed, as if it would 
 have been better for both of us if we had 
 perished in our agonies than been spared alive 
 in this dreadful plight." 
 
 At this point, worn out by the trials 
 and privations he had undergone, Abdul- 
 rahman's voice faltered, and, burying his 
 face in his hands, he began to sob like a 
 child. 
 
 " Be comforted, master, be comforted !" 
 cried Ali Hamed, whose young and more 
 sanguine nature could not fail to be stirred 
 to its depths by this pitiful sight of his 
 elder's weakness and emotion. 
 
 " There is no comfort for me, my son. If 
 we have been saved from dying in the water, 
 it is that we must perish miserably of hunger 
 and thirst on these desert shores !" 
 
 315 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " And yet, are we not taught that to live 
 is to hope ?" 
 
 " Hope ! What hope can there be for 
 me, my son, without those papers on which 
 all my hopes in this world were founded ?" 
 
 " But may we not find those papers ?" 
 
 " They are lost with the man who stole 
 them from me, and how shall we find him 
 when he lies at the bottom of the sea !" 
 
 Utterly depressed by Abdulrahman's gloom, 
 Ali Hamed was fain to admit in his heart that 
 the prospect of recovering the valuable docu- 
 ments was indeed beyond human endeavour. 
 
 The sun rose higher and began to burn 
 more fiercely while the two sat sadly con- 
 templating the mournful scene of desola- 
 tion about them and discussed, between long 
 intervals of silence, what was to become of 
 them. 
 
 Forced at length to retreat to the shade of 
 a big boulder, they might have pursued the 
 dreary train of thought and speech that had 
 occupied them, if sleep had not stolen un- 
 awares upon them and snatched them both 
 away in its soothing embrace. 
 
 316 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 IV 
 
 THE PACKET OF PAPERS 
 
 Who shall say what fancies beguiled the 
 rest of the worn-out and exhausted Abdulrah- 
 man ? But he was wrapped in a deep and 
 deathlike slumber when Ali Hamed awoke 
 after a most thrilling vision of gorgeous 
 splendours and fascinating adventures, to 
 find a stern and somewhat venerable-looking 
 man beckoning him to his side. 
 
 Hardly knowing whether he was awake or 
 asleep, the boy cautiously approached to 
 answer the summons addressed to him. 
 
 " Have you the key ?" demanded the 
 apparition, in solemn tones. 
 
 " What key, my lord ?" Ali Hamed stam- 
 mered, with nervous dread. 
 
 " The rusty key of Opportunity, which I 
 gave you a year since in the streets of Balsora." 
 
 "It is so long ago. ... I had forgotten 
 all about it ! . . ." 
 
 " Look and see !" was the curt rejoinder. 
 
 The boy dived tremblingly into his bosom, 
 and rummaged anxiously about the uncon- 
 sidered trifles he was accustomed to stow 
 about his person. 
 
 317 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " Why don't you loosen your girdle ?" 
 came the impatient rebuke. 
 
 Abashed at his own stupidity, Ali Hamed 
 quickly freed the cloth about his waist, and 
 sent a curious collection of articles rattling 
 and rolling down on the ground before him. 
 To his intense joy, as he sprang aside to see 
 what had fallen, he discovered a key. 
 
 " Is this it ?" he inquired, though his heart 
 sank within him as he picked up and timidly 
 proffered a glittering, resplendent little key, 
 very unlike the rusty little object he had 
 received in pledge. 
 
 The apparition took it and examined it 
 with minute care. 
 
 " Chance has made it very bright, I see !" 
 the mysterious figure remarked, talking as it 
 were to himself. Then the stern expression 
 on his face gradually softened into an odd 
 smile, as he added : "It may be well yet ; 
 who knows, boy ? The way of Opportunity 
 lies through yonder Gorge of Service ; it is 
 black with the guilt of evil men, but there is 
 a way through it for the simple and the brave, 
 and the reward is great. Here is your key !" 
 
 Instinctively awed by the presence of this 
 strange person, and overpowered by the 
 portentous nature of his words, Ali Hamed 
 involuntarily sank to his knees, and bowed 
 
 318 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 his head, in an attitude of meek reverence. 
 He felt the key being pressed into the palm 
 of his uplifted right hand, and clasped it 
 tightly ; but when he ventured at length to 
 raise his eyes to the giver, the man had 
 vanished. 
 
 The boy would have doubted his senses, 
 and believed that he was still in a dream, 
 but for the shining token he held in his hand 
 and the other evidences around him that he 
 was indeed wide awake in a world of hard 
 and dismal facts, which could only be faced 
 with courage and determination. 
 
 A glance behind showed Abdulrahman still 
 wrapt in peaceful slumbers. The eager im- 
 pulse to rush to the sleeper's side, hastily to 
 awake him, and tell him what had happened, 
 was as eagerly restrained by the sober re- 
 flection that nothing but the possession of 
 his papers would restore Abdulrahman to the 
 activity of Hope. 
 
 Ali Hamed, therefore, checked himself, and 
 dejectedly sat down to consider the situation. 
 
 The sea was certainly settling down, biit 
 it was still heaving and dashing with remorse- 
 less cruelty against the wretched ship that 
 was manacled by the keel on that jagged 
 reef of rock. To reach the wave-battered, 
 swaying hulk was rashly to court death, but, 
 
 319 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 with nothing better to do and a mind ill 
 attuned to listlessness, the boy almost un- 
 consciously found himself at the water's 
 edge. 
 
 He had tested one slimy rock after another 
 in the desire at length to find a firm foot- 
 ing, when he stumbled upon a sight that 
 made him recoil with loathing from his 
 purpose. 
 
 A horribly mangled corpse was Ijdng at 
 his feet ! 
 
 Ali Hamed did not stop to look again at 
 the gruesome sight before him. He had un- 
 expectedly come face to face with something 
 which instinctively repelled curiosity and 
 filled him at the same time with so terrible 
 a fear that he was not ashamed to run away 
 from the horror with all the speed his young 
 legs could carry him. 
 
 Meanwhile Abdulrahman, roused at last 
 from his long sleep, had sat up, and was soon 
 lost in wonder and perplexity at finding 
 himself alone. 
 
 " Whatever can have happened to the 
 boy ?" he asked himself anxiously, after call- 
 ing aloud for the lad to all the four winds. 
 Misgivings that the youngster might have 
 come by some harm slowly arose to torment 
 his mind, till, filled with despair at the 
 
 320 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 awful prospect which the loss of the boy 
 unfolded to his senses, he started to his feet, 
 and, glaring distractedly about him, wildly 
 invoked the return of the sole comfort and 
 support of his life. 
 
 " Here I am, master, here I am !" rang at 
 last the distant response to the piteous cries 
 which had been rending the air ; and, look- 
 ing in the direction whence the welcome sounds 
 proceeded, the frenzied man saw a fleet-footed 
 figure speeding towards him. 
 
 " Heaven be praised, my son !" Abdulrah- 
 man exclaimed, as he rushed forward to 
 receive the panting boy in his open arms and 
 to press him fervently to his breast^ — " Heaven 
 be praised ! Had you tarried a few moments 
 longer, I would verily have dashed my head 
 against those rocks. But where have you 
 been and what ails you ?" he added, realising 
 how excited and overcome Ali Hamed was. 
 
 " Master . . . down there ... by that dark 
 patch ... a man . . . dead !" was the gasping 
 reply. 
 
 " Many men should be dead down there, 
 my son, if we two are the only ones alive out 
 of that ship." 
 
 " But, master ... a black beard . . . red 
 face. . . ." 
 
 " I care nought now that I have got you !" 
 321 X 
 
I" 
 
 The Rusty Key 
 
 " Your papers, perhaps . . . master !' 
 
 " Of what solace shall my papers be in 
 this wilderness here, where I want but 
 you ?" 
 
 " You would surely not trifle with oppor- 
 tunity ?" 
 
 " Boy ! What was that you said ?" 
 
 The question was asked in a tone of voice 
 so severe that Ali Hamed recoiled with dismay 
 from an embrace which seemed to have been 
 suddenly relaxed. 
 
 For a brief second Youth and Age con- 
 fronted one another in an attitude of distrust 
 and suspicion. 
 
 Abdulrahman was the first to speak. 
 
 " I will go, my son, if you will promise 
 that, whatever betides, you will be true to 
 me." 
 
 " I swear it, master !" 
 
 " Bless you, boy, and may Allah preserve 
 you in safety till I return. 
 
 Left alone in his turn, Ali Hamed fell a 
 prey to thoughts so hideous and disturbing that 
 they would soon have rendered life unendur- 
 able for him, if his waiting, watching eyes had 
 not at last seen Abdulrahman approaching 
 him with weary steps. As his companion 
 drew nearer, the boy was able to note the 
 livid colour of his face, the nervous twitchings 
 
 322 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 of his features, and the panic-stricken look of 
 terror in his protruding eyes. 
 
 " Oh, why did I go ! Why did I go !" he 
 exclaimed, staggering up to the alarmed 
 youngster. 
 
 " For your papers, master," was the falter- 
 ing reply. 
 
 " My papers ! Here they are, soaked 
 through and through with salt water, and 
 absolutely useless. They were accursed be- 
 fore ; they are doubly accursed to me now, 
 for what it has cost me to save them from the 
 cruel grasp of Death !" 
 
 With a frenzied gesture he produced the 
 sodden documents from the folds of the 
 broad sleeve in which he had knotted them, 
 and, with a cry of pain, he cast them at the 
 boy's feet, and collapsed, weeping and sob- 
 bing, on the sand. 
 
 Dumbfounded in the presence of such over- 
 whelming grief, Ali Hamed was too stunned 
 for a while to speak or move. 
 
 When something like energy returned to 
 his affrighted senses, he quietly stooped down, 
 picked the offending packet up, thrust it, wet 
 and clammy, into his bosom, and gradually 
 found the courage to bend down and sooth- 
 ingly to address the poor moaning creature 
 before him. 
 
 .323 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " Rise, master, rise !" he implored, as soon 
 as it appeared that his consoling ministra- 
 tions were having the eflfect of quieting 
 Abdulrahman. 
 
 It was some time, however, before the man 
 would consent to stand up, and it was not 
 without the greatest difficulty that the boy 
 was able to prop him up and direct his limp 
 and quivering steps towards the gorge which 
 the mysterious apparition had indicated as the 
 direction in which escape lay. 
 
 Valiantly the brave little fellow struggled 
 on, though every muscle and fibre in his body 
 were groaning for relief from the burden of 
 supporting the heavy frame of his master. But 
 he had sworn not to forsake Abdulrahman, and 
 his own soul had told him that he dared not 
 forsake him, so that not tUl the sun had gone 
 down and the task of pressing forwards be- 
 came hopeless, did the lad finally stop and 
 tenderly guide the tottering form he was 
 bearing to a couch on a sparse patch of dry 
 grass. 
 
 There Abdulrahman lay, utterly exhausted 
 and almost lifeless indeed but for the deep 
 spasms of breath which he laboriously fetched 
 at intervals. 
 
 How long Ali Hamed sat guarding his 
 prone companion, now yielding to terror, then 
 
 324 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 bracing himself against despair, he did not 
 know. As the tedious watch in the darkness 
 was prolonged, his troubled thoughts grew 
 more restful, his eyes became heavy, and he 
 was just dosing off when a sharp pain at his 
 side stabbed him to consciousness. 
 
 It was some time before his scattered 
 senses were sufficiently composed to enable 
 him to realise that the strange brightness 
 which threw the rugged landscape about him 
 into bold relief came from a moon shining 
 peacefully in a sky of intense blue. But the 
 majestiQ awe with which the scene inspired 
 him was unpleasantly cut short by a rather 
 keen stab in his side. Instinctively directing 
 his hand to the affected spot, his fingers 
 touched something wet, cold, and clammy. 
 
 " It's those papers !" he mentally ejacu- 
 lated, and, plunging into his bosom, he with- 
 drew the offending cause of his discomfort. 
 
 For a moment he was angrily tempted to 
 throw the packet away, for was it not the 
 cause of all his sufferings, and had not 
 ; 'Abdulrahman truly called it accursed ? 
 
 Thoughtless haste was not, however, one 
 of his characteristics, and, catching sight of 
 his master's broad sleeves, he quietly bound 
 up the wet documents in the loose folds of 
 the nearest of them. 
 
 325 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " They will not harm him there," he mused, 
 with great inwatd satisfaction. " That's 
 where he himself stowed the wet things 
 away; and, after all, what do I know about 
 these papers, or of what concern are they to 
 me?" 
 
 He would have settled down to peaceful 
 repose again if another quick twinge at his 
 side had not made him start with a low cr3^ 
 As he pressed his hand to the aching spot, his 
 fingers came in contact with a hard substance. 
 
 " It's my key !" was the disturbing thought 
 that flashed upon him. In a moment he had 
 produced the little object. It should have 
 been bright and glittering as he held it in his 
 open palm for the moon's rays to play upon 
 it, but, look at it as he would, it remained dull 
 and indistinct. 
 
 " How rusty it is !" came a low voice. 
 
 " I was foolish enough to put a wet thing 
 into my bosom," the boy replied, though he 
 was quite uncertain whether he had actually 
 been spoken to or was merely the victim of 
 his own fancies. 
 
 " Pity ! Pity ! Salt water takes such a 
 long time to dry !" 
 
 Ali Hamed looked up at these words, but 
 all he saw was a sort of iilmy vapour slowlj'^ 
 resolving itself into nothingness. 
 
 326 
 
The Packet of Papers 
 
 The vision had been so strange, and the 
 impression it left on the boy's mind so fraught 
 with misgiving, that once again he fell on his 
 knees, and humbly covered his eyes with his 
 hands. 
 
 He had continued thus for a long space, in 
 dread expectation of a calamity that did not 
 come, when his posture at length stirred 
 prayer to his lips. 
 
 He had often prayed before, but never had 
 his whole heart been lifted up in such fervency 
 of supplication as when he implored the Great 
 Spirit of Help to release him from the para- 
 lysing and soul-destroying spell of inactivity 
 to w^hich the sleeping form by his side con- 
 demned him. 
 
 Rather than endure further torments in 
 these haunted solitudes, he beseechingly 
 craved for toil and suffering, weariness of 
 flesh, and all the miseries of physical exhaus- 
 tion. 
 
 The paling light of the moon had blushed 
 into the rose-hued tints of morn without Ali 
 Hamed perceiving its change. 
 
 Not till the restless groans of the waking 
 Abdulrahman grew louder and louder did the 
 rapt boy rouse himself sufficiently to find 
 that the sun of a new day was already riding 
 high in the heavens. 
 
 327 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 V 
 THE GORGE OP SERVICE 
 
 There was much to explain and a good 
 deal more to be left unexplained, before 
 Abdulrahman could finally be coaxed to rise. 
 No sooner did he realise, however, that it 
 was Ali Hamed's purpose to lead him into 
 the dismal gorge, whose steep and frowning 
 walls threatened to fall in and crush them, 
 than the old man's spirits sank within him, 
 and, though he tottered along on quaking 
 knees, for a while, he soon sank to the ground, 
 and loudly began to waken the echoes of the 
 solitude with his lamentations of distress. 
 
 " Leave me, my son, leave me ! Let me 
 die here ! I cannot follow you !" were the 
 first coherent words he uttered. 
 
 " Then we will die together, master !" the 
 boy stoutly replied. 
 
 " Not so ! Are you not young ? Life is 
 all before you. Difficulties and dangers 
 should not daunt you !" 
 
 " They do not, but I have sworn not to 
 forsake you !" 
 
 " I absolve you from your oath !" 
 
 " You cannot, master !" 
 It was wrongfully exacted. I was a 
 328 
 
 a 
 
The Gorge of Service 
 
 coward, and I have sinned. Go, my son ; 
 you are free !" 
 
 " I can only go with you !" 
 
 " But don't you see what a feeble, broken- 
 down old man I am ?" 
 
 " I see nothing but my duty to stand by 
 you." 
 
 " Would you kill me, by bidding me do 
 Avhat I cannot ?" 
 
 " I am here to help you, master. If the 
 reward is to be death, there is the consola- 
 tion that we shall die together !" 
 
 " How shall I bear the guilt of your inno- 
 cent blood ?" 
 
 " You will certainly have to bear it, if you 
 condemn me to court death here in fulfilment 
 of my vow to abide by you, whereas, if you 
 let yourself be persuaded by me to go forward 
 and evil befalls us, the guilt will be mine." 
 
 Abdulrahman groaned heavily. 
 
 " May Allah be merciful to me !" he ex- 
 claimed at last, twitching convulsively in an 
 attempt to raise himself. 
 
 " Let me support you !" the boy cried 
 eagerly, as he stooped to aid his master's vain 
 efforts to get up. 
 
 The task proved more difficult than Ali 
 Hamed had anticipated, and, when it was 
 accomplished, he realised with a shock of 
 
 329 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 horror that Abdulrahman had not only lost 
 the free use of his limbs, but that he was blind. 
 
 How slow and toilsome the daily progress 
 through the rugged, forbidding, and ever- 
 narrowing gorge was to be under such trying 
 circumstances can better be imagined than 
 described ! 
 
 Pity and reverence forbade any allusion to 
 the afflicted man's infirmities, though the 
 strain of appearing always cheerful and light- 
 hearted became more wearing and more forced 
 as the onward stages grew shorter and shorter 
 each succeeding day. 
 
 Flesh and blood at length reached the 
 limit of their endurance. A day, more awful 
 than any that the boy had been called upon 
 to struggle through manfully, had come to 
 an end, and, absolutely exhausted, he had not 
 even had the strength to lay his burden down 
 softly, as was his wont, but had staggered 
 and fallen heavily with it to the ground. He 
 had certainly done his best to save Abdul- 
 rahman' s body, at the expense of his own, 
 from too rude an impact with the stone- 
 strewn path, but he was hardly prepared to 
 hear no scoldings from his petulant, ever 
 whining and often ill-tempered master. 
 
 For once, indeed, the poor man was 
 strangely quiet and resigned ; and, lulled 
 
 330 
 

The Gorge of Service 
 
 by the blissful peace, All Hamed was glad to 
 lie still and enjoy the repose he so much 
 needed. 
 
 An oppressive sense of weight roused him 
 at length from his lethargy, but, although he 
 deftly managed to wriggle himself from beneath 
 Abdulrahman's prostrate form, the relief he 
 thus gained was only to prove temporary. 
 
 He was wondering, in a half-dazed condition, 
 what the cause of his discomfort could be, 
 when his hands, instinctively passed up and 
 down his body, came into contact with some- 
 thing stiff that was lying on his chest. Ho 
 gripped the thing boldly, to cast it from him, 
 but it was like lead to his touch, and he was 
 forced to use violence with himself before he 
 could raise himself sufficiently to ascertain 
 what it could possibly be. 
 
 " Those awful papers !" he was muttering 
 under his breath. 
 
 " Put them into your own bosom, boy !" 
 said a clear voice close to him. 
 
 Ali Hamed obediently dropped the bundle 
 into the loose folds of his shirt. It felt warm 
 to his skin, and soon made him glow all over 
 with an invigorating sense of relief and 
 strength. 
 
 " The key will not rust this time !" 
 
 Was the remark a mere audible reflection 
 331 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 of his own, or had it been whispered by the 
 same mysterious voice that had previously 
 addressed him. 
 
 Certain it was that he had again forgotten 
 all about the key, and, starting up in great 
 consternation of mind, he began to search 
 the recesses round his waist. 
 
 To his joy he soon came upon something 
 hard, that had lodged itself near the small of 
 his back, but which, in the sportive fashion 
 inanimate objects often display, persisted in 
 eluding his hurried efforts to capture it. 
 
 Though he was amused at first by the 
 comicality of the proceedings, the joke soon 
 began to tire him, and he impatiently clutched 
 at the back of his girdle, pulled it away from 
 his body, and had the satisfaction of hearing 
 the key fall with a ring on the stones. 
 
 He skipped round hastily, and bent down 
 to pick it up, but he had forgotten how rough 
 the ground was, and, look where he would, 
 no key was to be seen. 
 
 Groping carefully about on hands and knees, 
 with the sweat of fear and excitement drip- 
 ping from his brow, he was driven at last to 
 despair of finding it in the dark, when a 
 strangely soft, yet penetrating kind of light 
 began gradually to suffuse the scene. In 
 its glow he detected a gHttering object 
 
 332 
 
The Gorge of Service 
 
 wedged in a treacherous crevice of the rocks 
 at his feet. 
 
 It required all the dexterity of his fingers to 
 dislodge it, and when dislodged to prevent it 
 from dropping back out of his reach alto- 
 gether ; but he did laboriously manage to 
 bring it to the surface, and was triumphantly 
 examining it on the palm of his outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 " How very bright it is ! It looks as if it 
 ought to burn, but it does not !" he exclaimed. 
 
 Nevertheless, a burning there was soon to 
 be about his loins, which grew to be unbear- 
 able, until he recollected the packet of papers, 
 and jerked the bundle out of his bosom. 
 
 There M^as no trouble about locating where 
 that fell, and, to his intense surprise, the parcel 
 was neither smouldering nor aflame. 
 
 He looked askance at it for some minutes, 
 cautiously touched it, was not scorched by it, 
 and, after much deliberation, was embold- 
 ened to seize it pluckily, and by unwrapping 
 it to discover, if so he might, the source of 
 its latent heat. 
 
 " Allah be praised ! I am saved, my son. 
 How shall I thank you ? He ! he ! he !" 
 
 The boy looked up, and, to his utter 
 amazement, saw AbduLrahman standing erect 
 and self-confident before him. 
 
 333 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 " Master ! This is magic !" 
 
 " Quick, boy ! Look ! Is it not written, 
 an overhanging chff, ten paces to the right 
 of the Rock of Diflficulty, a smooth-faced wall, 
 a stone door . . ." 
 
 Ali Hamed would have verified the state- 
 ment, but the papers shrivelled into ashes in 
 his gasp. 
 
 " Never mind. I know every word by 
 heart. He ! he ! he ! Was it for nothing I 
 was given years of patient toil to study 
 them ? Ten paces to the right . . . stay 
 where you are, son, while I measure them." 
 
 " Here it is, smooth as glass ..." 
 
 Abdulrahman was pushing and straining for- 
 ward, when the boy at last rushed to his help. 
 
 " Wait, master, wait ! The door is 
 locked !" 
 
 " Locked ! Say not so, for then we are 
 verily undone !" 
 
 " Maybe I have the key !" Ali Hamed 
 urged, and, sure enough, after much diligent 
 search, a little keyhole was found which the 
 boy's bright trophy not only helped to reveal, 
 but was found to fit. 
 
 Once again the eye of man was to behold 
 the treasure-caves of the notorious Soliman, 
 the legendary hero of many a fine romance 
 in the story of Balsora. 
 
 334 
 
The Gorge of Service 
 
 A priceless horde of silver was succeeded 
 by a glittering mine of gold, but the dazzling 
 splendour of the precious stones beyond was 
 too blinding to be borne long by the gaze of 
 two such exhausted and astounded creatures 
 as Ali Hamed and his master. 
 
 They had slowly worked their way back 
 to the open air, and were mutely staring at 
 one another in a state of helpless confusion 
 as to what they should do, when Abdulrah- 
 man shrank back with a wild gesture of 
 alarm. 
 
 " What ails you, master ?" the boy cried 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Speak again ! The voice is yours, 
 but . . ." 
 
 " Well, but what . . . ?" 
 " How changed you are, if it really is you ! 
 You were a mere boy a little while ago, and 
 now you are a man." 
 
 " No, no ; it is your imagination." 
 " Put your hand to your face, look down 
 at your body, test the muscles of your arms !" 
 Ali Hamed nervously complied with these 
 injunctions, and was forced to marvel at the 
 extraordinary changes in himself. It seemed 
 but as yesterday since the great adventure 
 of his life had taken place, and here he stood, 
 visibly transformed in mind and person as 
 
 335 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 though years of toil and effort had rolled 
 over him. 
 
 Convinced at last that he was not the victim 
 of a vain fancy, he turned to look more closely 
 at Abdulrahman. 
 
 A little heap of huddled up mortality was 
 lying at his feet. 
 
 He called aloud, and madly implored his 
 master to speak, but all to no purpose. 
 
 Then, with hot tears of sorrow streaming 
 down his cheeks, and a heart wrung by sad- 
 ness and misery, he stooped down to seek 
 confirmation of the dread impressions that 
 beset him. 
 
 A weary, long-drawn sigh rewarded his 
 efforts to ease the last grim sufferings of 
 the dying man, and then all was dark and 
 still. 
 
 Master and boy lay side by side, and there 
 was an end of all things for Ali Hamed in the 
 proud vigour of his newly acquired manhood 
 and for the worn-out frame of the hapless 
 Abdulrahman, 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 The gates of Balsora were shutting for 
 the night, when a weary, travel-stained 
 youth pressed through with the last 
 batch of arrivals, who were eagerly strug- 
 gling in order to avoid the payment of 
 
 336 
 
The Gorge of Service 
 
 backshish to the insatiable guards stationed 
 at the doorway. 
 
 Though the city outwardly slept as quietly 
 as usual that night, there was some commo- 
 tion in the humble home of one of its most 
 respected inhabitants, for a long-lost son, 
 who had much to explain before he was freely 
 admitted to the family circle, had suddenly 
 appeared to claim his own kith and kin, and 
 to bring joy and gladness to hearts that had 
 sadly mourned over his disappearance. 
 
 A long-deserted and much neglected shop 
 at the quay was once more to be swept and 
 garnished, and steadily to become the busiest 
 meeting-place of every trader at the thriving 
 port. 
 
 Ali Hamed could never have found his way 
 back to the treasure stores of Soliman the 
 Sailor, but silver and gold and precious stones 
 beyond the dreams of avarice poured into his 
 coffers, and his name became famous in all the 
 East for just and righteous dealing, scrupulous 
 honesty, and a heart of pity for his less fortu- 
 nate or perhaps less deserving fellow-men. 
 
 As for the httle key, it was some time before 
 Ali Hamed ceased to live in dread of the con- 
 sequences that might befall him for having 
 lost it at some stage of his hurried, homeward 
 journey to Balsora. 
 
 337 Y 
 
The Rusty Key 
 
 The years passed peacefully by, however, 
 with no disturbing visions to alarm him, and 
 thus comforted and reassured, he slowly began 
 to understand the hidden meaning of the in- 
 significant symbol that had been so mysteri- 
 ously entrusted to him. 
 
 The chance that daily lurks about men's 
 steps gives one and all of us the opportunity 
 of satisfying our chief ambitions. These 
 ambitions may not always be the highest or 
 the best, but they may always be purified, and 
 thus rendered possible of accomplishment by 
 steady purpose, whole-hearted devotion, and 
 cheerful readiness at aU times to accept the 
 least promising and most difficult conditions 
 of hard and active service. 
 
 Thus alone can the rusty surface of mere 
 vague longings be burnished into the bright 
 treasures of Success and Happiness. 
 
 THE END 
 
 WKL[jS Gv^RDNER, I'ARTON AND CO., LTD., LONDON