FATIMA'S DELIVERANCE.
My brother Mustapha and my sister Fatima were almost of the same age;the former was at most but two years older. They loved each otherfervently, and did in concert, all that could lighten, for oursuffering father, the burden of his old age. On Fatima's seventeenthbirthday, my brother prepared a festival. He invited all hercompanions, and set before them a choice banquet in the gardens ofour father, and, towards evening, proposed to them to take a littlesail upon the sea, in a boat which he had hired, and adorned in grandstyle. Fatima and her companions agreed with joy, for the evening wasfine, and the city, particularly when viewed by evening from the sea,promised a magnificent prospect. The girls, however, were so wellpleased upon the bark, that they continually entreated my brother togo farther out upon the sea. Mustapha, however, yielded reluctantly,because a Corsair had been seen, for several days back, in thatvicinity.
Not far from the city, a promontory projected into the sea; thitherthe maidens were anxious to go, in order to see the sun sink into thewater. Having rowed thither, they beheld a boat occupied by armed men.Anticipating no good, my brother commanded the oarsmen to turn thevessel, and make for land. His apprehensions seemed, indeed, to beconfirmed, for the boat quickly approached that of my brother, andgetting ahead of it, (for it had more rowers,) ran between it and theland. The young girls, moreover, when they knew the danger to whichthey were exposed, sprang up with cries and lamentations: in vainMustapha sought to quiet them, in vain enjoined upon them to be still,lest their running to and fro should upset the vessel. It was of noavail; and when, in consequence of the proximity of the other boat,all ran upon the further side, it was upset.
Meanwhile, they had observed from the land the approach of the strangeboat, and, inasmuch as, for some time back, they had been in anxietyon account of Corsairs, their suspicions were excited, and severalboats put off from the land to their assistance: but they only came intime to pick up the drowning. In the confusion, the hostile boatescaped. In both barks, however, which had taken in those who werepreserved, they were uncertain whether all had been saved. Theyapproached each other, and, alas! found that my sister and one of hercompanions were missing; at the same time, in their number a strangerwas discovered, who was known to none. In answer to Mustapha'sthreats, he confessed that he belonged to the hostile ship, which waslying at anchor two miles to the eastward, and that his companions hadleft him behind in their hasty flight, while he was engaged inassisting to pick up the maidens; moreover, he said he had seen twotaken on board their boat.
The grief of my old father was without bounds, but Mustapha also wasafflicted unto death, for not only had his beloved sister been lost,and did he accuse himself of having been the cause of her misfortune,but, also, her companion who had shared it with her, had been promisedto him by her parents as his wife; still had he not dared to avow itto our father, because her family was poor, and of low descent. Myfather, however, was a stern man; as soon as his sorrow had subsided alittle, he called Mustapha before him, and thus spake to him:--
"Thy folly has deprived me of the consolation of my old age, and thejoy of my eyes. Go! I banish thee forever from my sight! I curse theeand thine offspring--and only when thou shalt restore to me my Fatima,shall thy head be entirely free from a father's execrations!"
This my poor brother had not expected; already, before this, he haddetermined to go in search of his sister and her friend, after havingasked the blessing of his father upon his efforts, and now that fatherhad sent him forth into the world, laden with his curse. As, however,his former grief had bowed him down, so this consummation ofmisfortune, which he had not deserved, tended to steel his mind. Hewent to the imprisoned pirate, and, demanding whither the ship wasbound, learned that she carried on a trade in slaves, and usually hada great sale thereof in Balsora.
On his return to the house, in order to prepare for his journey, theanger of his father seemed to have subsided a little, for he sent hima purse full of gold, to support him during his travels. Mustapha,thereupon, in tears took leave of the parents of Zoraida, (for so hisaffianced was called,) and set out upon the route to Balsora.
Mustapha travelled by land, because from our little city there was noship that went direct to Balsora. He was obliged, therefore, to useall expedition, in order not to arrive too long after the sea-robbers.Having a good horse and no luggage, he hoped to reach this city by theend of the sixth day. On the evening of the fourth, however, as hewas riding all alone upon his way, three men came suddenly upon him.Having observed that they were well-armed and powerful men, and soughthis money and his horse, rather than his life, he cried out that hewould yield himself to them. They dismounted, and tied his feettogether under his horse; then they placed him in their midst, and,without a word spoken, trotted quickly away with him; one of themhaving seized his bridle.
Mustapha gave himself up to a feeling of gloomy despair; the curse ofhis father seemed already to be undergoing its accomplishment on theunfortunate one, and how could he hope to save his sister and Zoraida,should he, robbed of all his means, even be able to devote his poorlife to their deliverance? Mustapha and his silent companions mighthave ridden about an hour, when they entered a little valley. The valewas enclosed by lofty trees; a soft, dark-green turf, and a streamwhich ran swiftly through its midst, invited to repose. In this placewere pitched from fifteen to twenty tents, to the stakes of which werefastened camels and fine horses: from one of these tents distinctlysounded the melody of a guitar, blended with two fine manly voices. Itseemed to my brother as if people who had chosen so blithesome aresting-place, could have no evil intentions towards himself; andaccordingly, without apprehension, he obeyed the summons of hisconductors, who had unbound his feet, and made signs to him to follow.They led him into a tent which was larger than the rest, and on theinside was magnificently fitted up. Splendid cushions embroidered withgold, woven carpets, gilded censers, would elsewhere have bespokenopulence and respectability, but here seemed only the booty of arobber band. Upon one of the cushions an old and small-sized man wasreclining: his countenance was ugly; a dark-brown and shining skin, adisgusting expression around his eyes, and a mouth of maliciouscunning, combined to render his whole appearance odious. Although thisman sought to put on a commanding air, still Mustapha soon perceivedthat not for him was the tent so richly adorned, and the conversationof his conductors seemed to confirm him in his opinion.
"Where is the Mighty?" inquired they of the little man.
"He is out upon a short hunt," was the answer; "but he hascommissioned me to attend to his affairs."
"That has he not wisely done," rejoined one of the robbers; "for itmust soon be determined whether this dog is to die or be ransomed, andthat the Mighty knows better than thou."
Being very sensitive in all that related to his usurped dignity, thelittle man, raising himself, stretched forward in order to reach theother's ear with the extremity of his hand, for he seemed desirous ofrevenging himself by a blow; but when he saw that his attempt wasfruitless, he set about abusing him (and indeed the others did notremain much in his debt) to such a degree, that the tent resoundedwith their strife. Thereupon, of a sudden, the tent-door opened, andin walked a tall, stately man, young and handsome as a Persian prince.His garments and weapons, with the exception of a richly-mountedponiard and gleaming sabre, were plain and simple; his serious eye,however, and his whole appearance, demanded respect without excitingfear.
"Who is it that dares to engage in strife within my tent?" exclaimedhe, as they started back aghast. For a long time deep stillnessprevailed, till at last one of those who had captured Mustapha,related to him how it had begun. Thereupon the countenance of "theMighty," as they had called him, seemed to grow red with passion.
"When would I have placed thee, Hassan, over my concerns?" he cried,in frightful accents, to the little man. The latter, in his fear,shrunk until he seemed even smaller than before, and crept towards thedoor of the tent. One step of the Mighty was sufficient to send himthrough the en
trance with a long singular bound. As soon as the littleman had vanished, the three led Mustapha before the master of thetent, who had meanwhile reclined upon the cushion.
"Here bring we thee him, whom thou commandedst us to take." Heregarded the prisoner for some time, and then said, "Bashaw ofSulieika, thine own conscience will tell thee why thou standest beforeOrbasan." When my brother heard this, he bowed low and answered:--
"My lord, you appear to labor under a mistake; I am a poorunfortunate, not the Bashaw, whom you seek." At this all were amazed;the master of the tent, however, said:--
"Dissimulation can help you little, for I will summon the people whoknow you well." He commanded them to bring in Zuleima. An old womanwas led into the tent, who, on being asked whether in my brother sherecognised the Bashaw of Sulieika, answered:--
"Yes, verily! And I swear by the grave of the Prophet, it is theBashaw, and no other!"
"Seest thou, wretch, that thy dissimulation has become as water?"cried out the Mighty in a furious tone. "Thou art too pitiful for meto stain my good dagger with thy blood, but to-morrow, when the sun isup, will I bind thee to the tail of my horse, and gallop with theethrough the woods, until they separate behind the hills of Sulieika!"Then sank my poor brother's courage within him.
"It is my cruel father's curse, that urges me to an ignominiousdeath," exclaimed he, weeping; "and thou, too, art lost, sweetsister, and thou, Zoraida!"
"Thy dissimulation helps thee not," said one of the robbers, as hebound his hands behind his back. "Come, out of the tent with thee! forthe Mighty is biting his lips, and feeling for his dagger. If thouwouldst live another night, bestir thyself!"
Just as the robbers were leading my brother from the tent, they metthree of their companions, who were also pushing a captive beforethem. They entered with him. "Here bring we the Bashaw, as thou hastcommanded," said they, conducting the prisoner before the cushion ofthe Mighty. While they were so doing, my brother had an opportunity ofexamining him, and was struck with surprise at the remarkableresemblance which this man bore to himself; the only difference being,that he was of more gloomy aspect, and had a black beard. The Mightyseemed much astonished at the resemblance of the two captives.
"Which of you is the right one?" he asked, looking alternately atMustapha and the other.
"If thou meanest the Bashaw of Sulieika," answered the latter in ahaughty tone, "I am he!"
The Mighty regarded him for a long time with his grave, terrible eye,and then silently motioned to them to lead him off. This having beendone, he approached my brother, severed his bonds with his dagger, andinvited him by signs to sit upon the cushion beside him. "It grievesme, stranger," he said, "that I took you for this villain. It hashappened, however, by some mysterious interposition of Providence,which placed you in the hands of my companions, at the very hour inwhich the destruction of this wretch was ordained."
Mustapha, thereupon, entreated him only for permission to pursue hisjourney immediately, for this delay might cost him much. The Mightyasked what business it could be that required such haste, and, whenMustapha had told him all, he persuaded him to spend that night in histent, and allow his horse some rest; and promised the next morning toshow him a route which would bring him to Balsora in a day and a half.My brother consented, was sumptuously entertained, and slept soundlytill morning in the robber's tent.
Upon awaking, he found himself all alone in the tent, but, before theentrance, heard several voices in conversation, which seemed to belongto the swarthy little man and the bandit-chief. He listened awhile,and to his horror heard the little man eagerly urging the other toslay the stranger, since, if he were let go, he could betray them all.Mustapha immediately perceived that the little man hated him, forhaving been the cause of his rough treatment the day before. TheMighty seemed to be reflecting a moment.
"No," said he; "he is my guest, and the laws of hospitality are withme sacred: moreover, he does not look like one that would betray us."
Having thus spoken, he threw back the tent-cover, and walked in."Peace be with thee, Mustapha!" he said: "let us taste themorning-drink, and then prepare thyself for thy journey." He offeredmy brother a cup of sherbet, and after they had drunk, they saddledtheir horses, and Mustapha mounted, with a lighter heart, indeed, thanwhen he entered the vale. They had soon turned their backs upon thetents, and took a broad path, which led into the forest. The Mightyinformed my brother, that this Bashaw whom they had captured in thechase, had promised them that they should remain undisturbed withinhis jurisdiction; but some weeks before, he had taken one of theirbravest men, and had him hung, after the most terrible tortures. Hehad waited for him a long time, and to-day he must die. Mustaphaventured not to say a word in opposition, for he was glad to haveescaped himself with a whole skin.
At the entrance of the forest, the Mighty checked his horse, showedMustapha the way, and gave him his hand with these words: "Mustapha,thou becamest in a strange way the guest of the robber Orbasan. I willnot ask thee not to betray what thou hast seen and heard. Thou hastunjustly endured the pains of death, and I owe thee a recompense. Takethis dagger as a remembrance, and when thou hast need of help, send itto me, and I will hasten to thy assistance. This purse thou wiltperhaps need upon thy journey."
My brother thanked him for his generosity; he took the dagger, butrefused the purse. Orbasan, however, pressed once again his hand, letthe money fall to the ground, and galloped with the speed of the windinto the forest. Mustapha, seeing that he could not overtake him,dismounted to secure the purse, and was astonished at the greatmagnanimity of his host, for it contained a large sum of gold. Hethanked Allah for his deliverance, commended the generous robber tohis mercy, and again started, with fresh courage, upon the route toBalsora.
* * * * *
Lezah paused, and looked inquiringly at Achmet, the old merchant.
"No! if it be so," said the latter, "then will I gladly correct myopinion of Orbasan; for indeed he acted nobly towards thy brother."
"He behaved like a brave Mussulman," exclaimed Muley; "but I hope thouhast not here finished thy story, for, as it seems to me, we are alleager to hear still further, how it went with thy brother, and whetherhe succeeded in rescuing thy sister and the fair Zoraida."
"I will willingly proceed," rejoined Lezah, "if it be not tiresome toyou; for my brother's history is, throughout, full of the mostwonderful adventures."
* * * * *
About the middle of the seventh day after his departure, Mustaphaentered the gate of Balsora. As soon as he had arrived at acaravansery, he inquired whether the slave-market, which was held hereevery year, had opened; but received the startling answer, that he hadcome two days too late. His informer deplored his tardiness, tellinghim that on the last day of the market, two female slaves had arrived,of such great beauty as to attract to themselves the eyes of all themerchants.
He inquired more particularly as to their appearance, and there was nodoubt in his mind, that they were the unfortunate ones of whom he wasin search. Moreover, he learned that the man who had purchased themboth, was called Thiuli-Kos, and lived forty leagues from Balsora, anillustrious and wealthy, but quite old man, who had been in his earlyyears Capudan-Bashaw of the Sultan, but had now settled down intoprivate life with the riches he had acquired.
Mustapha was, at first, on the point of remounting his horse with allpossible speed, in order to overtake Thiuli-Kos, who could scarcelyhave had a day's start; but when he reflected that, as a single man,he could not prevail against the powerful traveller, could still lessrescue from him his prey, he set about reflecting for another plan,and soon hit upon one. His resemblance to the Bashaw of Sulieika,which had almost been fatal to him, suggested to him the thought ofgoing to the house of Thiuli-Kos under this name, and, in that way,making an attempt for the deliverance of the two unfortunate maidens.Accordingly he hired attendants and horses, in which the money ofOrbasan opportunely came to his assistance, furnished himself
and hisservants with splendid garments, and set out in the direction ofThiuli's castle. After five days he arrived in its vicinity. It wassituated in a beautiful plain, and was surrounded on all sides bylofty walls, which were but slightly overtopped by the structureitself. When Mustapha had arrived quite near, he dyed his hair andbeard black, and stained his face with the juice of a plant, whichgave it a brownish color, exactly similar to that of the Bashaw. Fromthis place he sent forward one of his attendants to the castle, andbade him ask a night's lodging, in the name of the Bashaw ofSulieika. The servant soon returned in company with fourfinely-attired slaves, who took Mustapha's horse by the bridle, andled him into the court-yard. There they assisted him to dismount, andfour others escorted him up a wide marble staircase, into the presenceof Thiuli.
The latter personage, an old, robust man, received my brotherrespectfully, and had set before him the best that his castle couldafford. After the meal, Mustapha gradually turned the conversationupon the new slaves; whereupon, Thiuli praised their beauty, butexpressed regret because they were so sorrowful; nevertheless hebelieved that would go over after a time. My brother was muchdelighted at his reception, and, with hope beating high in his bosom,lay down to rest.
He might, perhaps, have been sleeping an hour, when he was awakened bythe rays of a lamp, which fell dazzlingly upon his eyes. When he hadraised himself up, he believed himself dreaming, for there before himstood the very same little, swarthy fellow of Orbasan's tent, a lampin his hand, his wide mouth distended with a disgusting laugh.Mustapha pinched himself in the arm, and pulled his nose, in order tosee if he were really awake, but the figure remained as before.
"What wishest thou by my bed?" exclaimed Mustapha, recovering from hisamazement.
"Do not disquiet yourself so much, my friend," answered the littleman. "I made a good guess as to the motive that brought you hither.Although your worthy countenance was still well remembered by me,nevertheless, had I not with my own hand assisted to hang the Bashaw,you might, perhaps, have deceived even me. Now, however, I am here topropose a question."
"First of all, tell me why you came hither," interrupted Mustapha,full of resentment at finding himself detected.
"That I will explain to you," rejoined the other: "I could not put upwith the Mighty any longer, and therefore ran away; but you, Mustapha,were properly the cause of our quarrel, and so you must give me yoursister to wife, and I will help you in your flight; give her not, andI will go to my new master, and tell him something of our new Bashaw."
Mustapha was beside himself with fear and anger; at the very momentwhen he thought he had arrived at the happy accomplishment of hiswishes, must this wretch come, and frustrate them all! It was the onlyway to carry his plan into execution--he must slay the little monster:with one bound, he sprang from the bed upon him; but the other, whomight perhaps have anticipated something of the kind, let the lampfall, which was immediately extinguished, and rushed forth in thedark, crying vehemently for help.
Now was the time for decisive action; the maids he was obliged, forthe moment, to abandon, and attend only to his own safety:accordingly, he approached the window, to see if he could not springfrom it. It was a tolerable distance from the ground, and on the otherside stood a lofty wall, which he would have to surmount. Reflecting,he stood by the window until he heard many voices approaching hischamber: already were they at the door, when seizing desperately hisdagger, and garments, he let himself down from the window. The fallwas hard, but he felt that no bone was broken; immediately he sprangup, and ran to the wall which surrounded the court. This, to theastonishment of his pursuers, he mounted, and soon found himself atliberty. He ran on until he came to a little forest, where he sankdown exhausted. Here he reflected on what was to be done; his horsesand attendants he was obliged to leave behind, but the money, which hehad placed in his girdle, he had saved.
His inventive genius, however, soon pointed him to another means ofdeliverance. He walked through the wood until he arrived at a village,where for a small sum he purchased a horse, with the help of which, ina short time, he reached a city. There he inquired for a physician,and was directed to an old experienced man. On this one he prevailed,by a few gold pieces, to furnish him with a medicine to produce adeath-like sleep, which, by means of another, might be instantaneouslyremoved. Having obtained this, he purchased a long false beard, ablack gown, and various boxes and retorts, so that he could readilypass for a travelling physician; these articles he placed upon an ass,and rode back to the castle of Thiuli-Kos. He was certain, this time,of not being recognised, for the beard disfigured him so that hescarcely knew himself.
Arrived in the vicinity of the castle, he announced himself as thephysician Chakamankabudibaba, and matters turned out as he hadexpected. The splendor of the name procured him extraordinary favorwith the old fool, who invited him to table. Chakamankabudibabaappeared before Thiuli, and, having conversed with him scarcely anhour, the old man resolved that all his female slaves should submit tothe examination of the wise physician. The latter could scarcelyconceal his joy at the idea of once more beholding his beloved sister,and with palpitating heart followed Thiuli, who conducted him to hisseraglio. They reached an unoccupied room, which was beautifullyfurnished.
"Chambaba, or whatever thou mayest be called, my good physician," saidThiuli-Kos, "look once at that hole in the wall; thence shall each ofmy slaves stretch forth her arm, and thou canst feel whether the pulsebetoken sickness or health."
Answer as he might, Mustapha could not arrange it so that he might seethem; nevertheless, Thiuli agreed to tell him, each time, the usualhealth of the one he was examining. Thiuli drew forth a long list fromhis girdle, and began, with loud voice, to call out, one by one, thenames of his slaves; whereupon, each time, a hand came forth from thewall, and the physician felt the pulse. Six had been read off, anddeclared entirely well, when Thiuli, for the seventh called Fatima,and a small white hand slipped forth from the wall. Trembling withjoy, Mustapha grasped it, and with an important air pronounced herseriously ill. Thiuli became very anxious, and commanded his wiseChakamankabudibaba straightway to prescribe some medicine for her. Thephysician left the room, and wrote a little scroll:
"Fatima, I will preserve thee, if thou canst make up thy mind to takea draught, which for two days will make thee dead; nevertheless, Ipossess the means of restoring thee to life. If thou wilt, then onlyreturn answer, that this liquid has been of no assistance, and it willbe to me a token that thou agreest."
In a moment he returned to the room, where Thiuli had remained. Hebrought with him an innocent drink, felt the pulse of the sick Fatimaonce more, pushed the note beneath her bracelet, and then handed herthe liquid through the opening in the wall. Thiuli seemed to be ingreat anxiety on Fatima's account, and postponed the examination ofthe rest to a more fitting opportunity. As he left the room withMustapha, he addressed him in sorrowful accents:
"Chadibaba, tell me plainly, what thinkest thou of Fatima's illness?"
My brother answered with a deep sigh: "Ah, sir, may the Prophet giveyou consolation! she has a slow fever, which may, perhaps, cost herlife!"
Then burned Thiuli's anger: "What sayest thou, cursed dog of aphysician? She, for whom I gave two thousand gold pieces--shall shedie like a cow? Know, if thou preservest her not, I will chop offthine head!"
My brother immediately saw that he had made a misstep, and againinspired Thiuli with hope. While they were yet conversing, a blackslave came from the seraglio to tell the physician, that the drink hadbeen of no assistance.
"Put forth all thy skill, Chakamdababelda, or whatever thy name maybe; I will pay thee what thou askest!" cried out Thiuli-Kos, well-nighhowling with sorrow, at the idea of losing so much gold.
"I will give her a potion, which will put her out of all danger,"answered the physician.
"Yes, yes!--give it her," sobbed the old Thiuli.
With joyful heart Mustapha went to bring his soporific, and havinggiven it to the black slave, and shown him how much it
was necessaryto take for a dose, he went to Thiuli, and, telling him he mustprocure some medicinal herbs from the sea, hastened through the gate.On the shore, which was not far from the castle, he removed his falsegarments, and cast them into the water, where they floated merrilyaround; concealing himself, however, in a thicket, he awaited thenight, and then stole softly to the burying-place of Thiuli's castle.
Hardly an hour had Mustapha been absent, when they brought Thiuli theintelligence that his slave Fatima was in the agonies of death. Hesent them to the sea-coast to bring the physician back with all speed,but his messengers returned alone, with the news that the poorphysician had fallen into the water, and was drowned; that they hadespied his black gown floating upon the surface, and that now and thenhis large beard peeped forth from amid the billows. Thiuli seeing nowno help, cursed himself and the whole world; plucked his beard, anddashed his head against the wall. But all this was of no use, for soonFatima gave up the ghost, in the arms of her companions. When theunfortunate man heard the news of her death, he commanded them quicklyto make a coffin, for he could not tolerate a dead person in hishouse; and bade them bear forth the corpse to the place of burial. Thecarriers brought in the coffin, but quickly set it down and fled, forthey heard sighs and sobs among the other piles.
Mustapha, who, concealed behind the coffins, had inspired theattendants with such terror, came forth and lighted a lamp, which hehad brought for that purpose. Then he drew out a vial which containedthe life-restoring medicine, and lifted the lid of Fatima's coffin.But what amazement seized him, when by the light of the lamp, strangefeatures met his gaze! Neither my sister, nor Zoraida, but an entirestranger, lay in the coffin! It was some time before he could recoverfrom this new stroke of destiny; at last, however, compassiontriumphed over anger. He opened the vial, and administered the liquid.She breathed--she opened her eyes--and seemed for some time to bereflecting where she was. At length, recalling all that had happened,she rose from the coffin, and threw herself, sobbing, at Mustapha'sfeet.
"How may I thank thee, excellent being," she exclaimed, "for havingfreed me from my frightful prison?" Mustapha interrupted herexpressions of gratitude by inquiring, how it happened that she, andnot his sister Fatima, had been preserved. The maiden looked inamazement.
"Now is my deliverance explained, which was before incomprehensible,"answered she. "Know that in this castle I am called Fatima, and it wasto me thou gavest thy note, and the preserving-drink."
My brother entreated her to give him intelligence of his sister andZoraida, and learned that they were both in the castle, but, accordingto Thiuli's custom, had received different names; they were nowcalled Mirza and Nurmahal. When Fatima, the rescued slave, saw that mybrother was so cast down by this failure of his enterprise, she badehim take courage, and promised to show him means whereby he couldstill deliver both the maidens. Aroused by this thought, Mustapha wasfilled with new hope, and besought her to point out to him the way.
"Only five months," said she, "have I been Thiuli's slave;nevertheless, from the first, I have been continually meditating anescape; but for myself alone it was too difficult. In the inner courtof the castle, you may have observed a fountain, which pours forthwater from ten tubes; this fountain riveted my attention. I rememberedin my father's house to have seen a similar one, the water of whichwas led up through a spacious aqueduct. In order to learn whether thisfountain was constructed in the same manner, I one day praised itsmagnificence to Thiuli, and inquired after its architect. 'I myselfbuilt it,' answered he, 'and what thou seest here is still thesmallest part; for the water comes hither into it from a brook atleast a thousand paces off, flowing through a vaulted aqueduct, whichis as high as a man. And all this have I myself planned.' Afterhearing this, I often wished only for a moment to have a man'sstrength, in order to roll away the stone from the side of thefountain; then could I have fled whither I would. The aqueduct nowwill I show to you; through it you can enter the castle by night, andset them free. Only you must have at least two men with you, in orderto overpower the slaves which, by night, guard the seraglio."
Thus she spoke, and my brother Mustapha, although twice disappointedalready in his expectations, once again took courage, and hoped withAllah's assistance to carry out the plan of the slave. He promised toconduct her in safety to her native land, if she would assist him inentering the castle. But one thought still troubled him, namely, wherehe could find two or three faithful assistants. Thereupon the daggerof Orbasan occurred to him, and the promise of the robber to hasten tohis assistance, when he should stand in need of help, and he thereforestarted with Fatima from the burying-ground, to seek the chieftain.
In the same city where he had converted himself into a physician,with his last money he purchased a horse, and procured lodgings forFatima, with a poor woman in the suburbs. He, however, hastenedtowards the mountain where he had first met Orbasan, and reached it inthree days. He soon found the tent, and unexpectedly walked in beforethe chieftain, who welcomed him with friendly courtesy. He related tohim his unsuccessful attempts, whereupon the grave Orbasan could notrestrain himself from laughing a little now and then, particularlywhen he announced himself as the physician Chakamankabudibaba. At thetreachery of the little man, however, he was furious; and swore, if hecould find him, to hang him with his own hand. He assured my brotherthat he was ready to assist him the moment he should be sufficientlyrecovered from his ride. Accordingly, Mustapha remained that nightagain in the robber's tent, and with the first morning-red they setout, Orbasan taking with him three of his bravest men, well mountedand armed. They rode rapidly, and in two days arrived at the littlecity, where Mustapha had left the rescued Fatima. Thence they rode onwith her unto the forest, from which, at a little distance, they couldsee Thiuli's castle; there they concealed themselves, to await thenight. As soon as it was dark, guided by Fatima, they proceeded softlyto the brook, where the aqueduct commenced, and soon found it. Therethey left Fatima and a servant with the horses, and preparedthemselves for the descent: before they started, however, Fatima oncemore repeated, with precision, the directions she had given; namely,that, on emerging from the fountain into the inner court-yard, theywould find a tower in each corner on the right and left; that insidethe sixth gate from the right tower, they would find Fatima andZoraida, guarded by two black slaves. Well provided with weapons andiron implements for forcing the doors, Mustapha, Orbasan, and the twoother men, descended through the aqueduct; they sank, indeed, inwater, up to the middle, but not the less vigorously on that accountdid they press forward.
In a half hour they arrived at the fountain, and immediately began toply their tools. The wall was thick and firm, but could not longresist the united strength of the four men; they soon made a breachsufficiently large to allow them to slip through without difficulty.Orbasan was the first to emerge, and then assisted the others. Beingnow all in the court-yard, they examined the side of the castle whichlay before them, in order to find the door which had been described.But they could not agree as to which it was, for on counting from theright tower to the left, they found one door which had been walled up,and they knew not whether Fatima had included this in her calculation.But Orbasan was not long in making up his mind: "My good sword willopen to me this gate," he exclaimed, advancing to the sixth, while theothers followed him. They opened it, and found six black slaves lyingasleep upon the floor; imagining that they had missed the object oftheir search, they were already softly drawing back, when a figureraised itself in the corner, and in well-known accents called forhelp. It was the little man of the robber-encampment. But ere theslaves knew what had taken place, Orbasan sprang upon the little man,tore his girdle in two, stopped his mouth, and bound his hands behindhis back; then he turned to the slaves, some of whom were alreadyhalf bound by Mustapha and the two others, and assisted in completelyoverpowering them. They presented their daggers to the breasts of theslaves, and asked where Nurmahal and Mirza were: they confessed thatthey were in the next chamber. Mustapha rushed into the room, andfo
und Fatima and Zoraida awakened by the noise. They were not long incollecting their jewels and garments, and following my brother.
Meanwhile the two robbers proposed to Orbasan to carry off what theycould find, but he forbade them, saying: "It shall never be told ofOrbasan, that he enters houses by night, to steal gold." Mustapha, andthose he had preserved, quickly stepped into the aqueduct, whitherOrbasan promised to follow them immediately. As soon as they haddeparted, the chieftain and one of the robbers led forth the littleman into the court-yard; there, having fastened around his neck asilken cord, which they had brought for that purpose, they hung him onthe highest point of the fountain. After having thus punished thetreachery of the wretch, they also entered the aqueduct, and followedMustapha. With tears the two maidens thanked their brave preserver,Orbasan; but he urged them in haste to their flight, for it was veryprobable that Thiuli-Kos would seek them in every direction.
With deep emotion, on the next day, did Mustapha and the rescuedmaidens part with Orbasan. Indeed, they never will forget him! Fatima,the freed slave, left us in disguise for Balsora, in order to takepassage thence to her native land.
After a short and agreeable journey, my brother and his companionsreached home. Delight at seeing them once more, almost killed my oldfather; the next day after their arrival, he gave a great festival, towhich all the city was invited. Before a large assemblage of relationsand friends, my brother had to relate his story, and with one voicethey praised him and the noble robber.
When, however, Mustapha had finished, my father arose and led Zoraidato him. "Thus remove I," said he with solemn voice, "the curse fromthy head; take this maiden as the reward which thy unwearied couragehas merited. Receive my fatherly blessing: and may there never bewanting to our city, men who, in brotherly love, in prudence, andbravery, may be thy equals!"
* * * * *
The Caravan had reached the end of the desert, and gladly did thetravellers salute the green meadows, and thickly-leaved trees, ofwhose charms they had been deprived for so many days. In a lovelyvalley lay a caravansery, which they selected as their resting-placefor the night; and though it offered but limited accommodations andrefreshment, still was the whole company more happy and sociable thanever: for the thought of having passed through the dangers andhardships, with which a journey through the desert is everaccompanied, had opened every heart, and attuned their minds to jestand gayety. Muley, the young and merry merchant, went through a comicdance, and sang songs thereto, which elicited a laugh, even fromZaleukos, the serious Greek. But not content with having raised thespirits of his comrades by dance and merriment, he also gave them, inthe best style, the story he had promised, and, as soon as he couldrecover breath from his gambols, began the following tale.