Michael went in advance and led the way to his home. As soon as he

reached it he went to a chest and took out several packets of gold.

Whilst he was counting it Peter said: “You are a rascal, Michael, for

you deceived me, telling me that I had a stone in my breast, and that

you had my heart.”

“And is it not so?” asked the astonished Michael, “can you feel your

heart beat? Do you know what fear or remorse is?”

“Ah! you have just made my heart stand still, but I have it still in

my breast and so has Ezekiel. It was he who told me you had lied to

us; you are not the one to take one’s heart out without his feeling

it, that would be magic.”

“But I assure you I did,” said Michael angrily. “You, and Ezekiel, and

all the other rich people who have had dealings with me have hearts of

stone, and your own original hearts I have here, shut up in a room.”

“Now how easily the lies trip from your tongue!” laughed Peter. “You

must make some one else believe that. I have seen dozens of similar

tricks on my travels. The hearts you have in your room there are

merely waxen ones. You are a rich fellow, I allow, but you do not

understand magic.”

The giant became furious and tore open the door of the room. “Come in

and read all these labels; look at this, look at that, do you see it

is labelled ‘Peter Munk’s Heart!’ do you see how it throbs? Could you

make a waxen one do that?”

“All the same, it is wax,” said Peter. “A real heart does not beat

like that, I have mine still in my breast. No, it is evident you do

not understand magic.”

“But I will prove it to you!” cried the angry Michael; “you shall feel

for yourself that it is your own heart.”

He tore Peter’s vest open, took a stone from his breast and showed it

to him. Then he took the real heart, breathed on it, and put it

carefully in its place, and immediately to his delight Peter felt it

begin to beat.

“Now what have you to say?” laughed Michael.

“Truly you were in the right,” answered Peter, carefully drawing the

little cross from his pocket. “I would not have believed it possible

for a man to do such a thing.”

“Well, it was as I said,” answered Michael; “you see I do understand

magic, but come, now, I must put the stone back in your breast.”

“Softly, softly, Michael!” cried Peter, and he took a step backwards

and held out the cross towards him. “With a morsel of cheese the

mouse is caught, and this time it is you who have been caught.” And

he at once began to murmur the first prayer that came to his lips.

At once Michael began to dwindle away, fell down on the ground and

writhed like a worm, and groaned and sighed, and all the hearts in the

glass bottles began to throb and beat until it sounded like the

clock-maker’s workshop. But Peter was afraid, and his courage began to

fail him, and he turned and ran out of the house and, driven by fear,

he climbed the steep face of the rocky ravine, for he could hear

Michael raging and stamping and uttering fearful oaths.

[Illustration: _“Come in and read all these labels,” said the

giant._ (P. 270.)]

As soon as he reached the top he ran quickly to the clump of black

pines. A fearful thunderstorm broke out suddenly, lightning flashed

from left to right of him, striking the trees about him, but he

reached the domain of the little Glass-man in safety.

His heart was beating with joy, simply because it _did_ beat. But

suddenly he saw with horror that his past life had been even as the

terrible thunderstorm that had dealt destruction right and left in the

beautiful forest. He thought of Lisbeth, his good and beautiful wife,

whom he had murdered on account of his avarice, and he saw himself as

an outcast of humanity. When he reached the little hill where the

Glass-man dwelt he was weeping bitterly.

The Glass man sat beneath the pine-tree and smoked a pipe, and he

looked more cheerful than previously. “Why do you weep, Charcoal

Peter?” he asked. “Did you not get your heart? Have you still a stone

in your breast?”

“Ah! sir!” sighed Peter, “when I had a heart of stone I never wept, my

eyes were as dry as the land in July; but now my heart is breaking as

I think of all I have done. My debtors I drove out to misery and want,

and set my dogs upon the poor and sick, and you know alas! how my whip

fell upon that snow-white brow!”

“Peter, you have been a great sinner!” said the little man. “Money and

idleness spoilt you; when your heart became as a stone you could feel

neither joy, nor sorrow, neither remorse nor pity. But repentance can

make amends and if I knew for certain that you were sorry for your

past life I would still do something for you.”

“I ask for nothing more,” answered Peter, and let his head sink

mournfully upon his breast. “All is over for me, never again can I

rejoice, and what can I do alone in the world? My mother will never

forgive me for what I have done; even now, maybe, I have brought her

to her grave, monster that I am. And Lisbeth, my wife! It were a

kindness to strike me dead, Master Glass-man, so that my miserable

life were at an end.”

“Good,” replied the little man, “if you insist, well, I have my axe

near at hand.”

He took his pipe quietly from his mouth, tapped it and put it back

again. Then he rose slowly and stepped behind the pine-tree. But Peter

sat down upon the grass weeping, his life had become worthless to him,

and patiently he awaited the stroke of death. Shortly afterwards he

heard light footsteps behind him and thought, “He is coming now!”

“Look round, Peter Munk!” cried the little man. Peter wiped the tears

from his eyes and, looking round, saw--his mother, and Lisbeth, his

wife, smiling at him. He sprang up joyfully, “Then you are not dead,

Lisbeth? And you are here also, Mother, and have forgiven me?”

“They pardon you,” said the little Glass-man, “because you are truly

penitent, and everything shall be forgotten. Go home now to your

father’s cottage and be a charcoal-burner as before; if you are honest

and industrious you will learn to respect your work, and your

neighbours will love and esteem you more than if you had ten tons of

gold.”

Thus spoke the little Glass-man, and then bade him farewell.

The three happy people praised and blessed him and turned towards

home.

Peter’s splendid house was no longer standing. It had been struck by

lightning and burnt to the ground, together with all his money and

treasures, but it was no great distance to the old hut, and so they

turned their steps towards it and were not in the least troubled about

the great loss.

But what was their surprise on reaching the little hut to find it had

become a fine farm-house, furnished throughout with simplicity, but

with everything that was necessary and good.

“That is the work of the little Glass-man,” cried Peter.

“How beautiful everything is,” said Lisbeth; “I shall be far happier

and more at home here than in the great big house with its many

servants.”

From that time Peter became an industrious and honest fellow. He was

contented with what he had and plied his trade without grumbling; and

so it came to pass that through his own exertions he became well off

and respected and loved by everyone in the Forest.

He never quarrelled with his wife, honoured his mother, and gave to

the poor who came knocking at his door.

After a time a beautiful boy came to them, to add to their happiness,

and then Peter went to the clump of pine-trees and again recited his

little rhyme, but the Glass-man did not show himself.

“Master Glass-man,” cried Peter loudly, “do listen to me, for I only

meant to ask you to be godfather to my little son!”

But there was no reply, only a little breath of wind sighed through

the pine-trees and blew a few cones to the ground.

“Well, I will take these as a remembrance, as you will not show

yourself to me,” said Peter, and popped the cones into his pocket, and

went home. But when he took off his best coat and his mother shook out

the pockets before laying it away in the chest, out tumbled four fine

big rolls of gold pieces. That was the good Glass-man’s christening

present to _little_ Peter.

And so they lived happily ever after, and when Peter Munk was an old

man with grey hair he was wont to say: “It is better to be content

with little, than to have money and possessions and a cold heart.”

THE ADVENTURES OF SAID.

At the time when Harun Al-Raschid was ruler of Bagdad there lived in

Balsora a man named Benezar. He had a sufficiently large fortune to be

able to live comfortably and at ease without working for a livelihood.

Even when his son was born he did not change his mode of living, for

he said: “Wherefore should I wear myself out working at a trade, just

so that I may be able to leave Said, my son, another thousand gold

pieces if I am lucky, or a thousand less if I am unlucky? What is

enough for two is enough for three, as the saying is, and if he turns

out well he shall want for nothing.”

[Illustration: _Benezar and the baby Said._ (P. 276.)]

And so he announced his intention of not allowing his son to become a

merchant, but took care to study learned books with him, and as,

according to his ideas, besides learning and reverence for age,

nothing became a young man more than a knowledge of arms and a

courageous disposition, he had him carefully instructed in the skilful

handling of weapons and all modes of defence.

And so Said was able to compare favourably not only with youths of his

own age, but with his elders, as an excellent fighter, and as for

riding and swimming none could compete with him.

When he was eighteen years of age his father sent him to Mecca to

worship at the grave of the Prophet, as was customary.

Before he set out his father sent for him, praised his good conduct,

gave him some good advice, and provided him with money for the

journey. Then he told him the following story. “I am,” said he, “a man

who is above sharing the superstitions of the lower classes. It is

true that I like to amuse myself by listening to stories of fairies

and enchanters, but I certainly do not believe, as many of the

uneducated do, that there is any truth in the suggestion that they are

able to have an influence on the lives and actions of men. Your

mother, however, who died twelve years ago, believed in them as firmly

as she believed in the Koran; indeed, she confided to me once, after

making me promise never to divulge her words to anyone but her child,

that she had been in communication with a fairy from the day of her

birth. I tried to laugh her out of the idea, but I must confess, Said,

that at your birth such strange things occurred that even I was taken

by surprise. All day long there had been a thunderstorm and the sky

was so dark that it was impossible to read without a light. About four

o’clock in the afternoon I was told a little son had been born to me.

I hurried to your mother’s apartments to see you and bless you, but I

found her door closed and all her attendants standing outside it, and

on my questioning them they told me your mother had turned them all

out because she wished to be alone. I knocked at the door, but in

vain, it remained closed.

“As I stood unwillingly amongst the attendants outside your mother’s

door the thunderstorm suddenly ceased, as though it had never been,

and the most surprising thing about it was that although the sky was a

beautiful deep blue above our dear city of Balsora, all around it lay

clouds as black as night and lightning flashed and darted around the

circle of blue.

“Whilst I was observing this spectacle with great curiosity, the door

of my wife’s room flew open, but I would not allow the maids to enter

and went in alone. As I entered my nostrils were assailed with an

overpowering scent of roses, carnations and hyacinths. Your mother

laid you in my arms and pointed out a little silver whistle which hung

suspended from your neck by a gold chain, as fine as silk.

“‘The beneficent fairy of whom I told you once has been here,’ said

she, ‘and has given your son this present.’

[Illustration: _“There is your gift.”_ (P. 280.)]

“‘Perhaps she was the witch who made the weather fine and left behind

her this scent of roses and carnations?’ I asked jokingly. ‘She might

have given him something better than a silver whistle, a purse of gold

or a fine horse would have been more acceptable.’ Your mother begged

me not to make fun, as fairies are easily offended and their blessings

then turn to curses.

“So to please her I said no more; but six years later she mentioned

it to me again, for in spite of her youth she felt that she was at the

point of death. She gave me the whistle and told me to give it to you

when you were twenty years of age, and on no account to let you out of

my sight before you were that age. There is your gift,” proceeded

Benezar, taking a silver whistle attached to a long gold chain from a

casket, “I give it to you in your eighteenth year, instead of your

twentieth, as you are starting on your travels, and before you return

I may be gathered to my fathers.”

“I do not see any reason for your remaining another two years with me

as your mother wished, for you are a good, sensible young fellow, and

understand how to handle weapons as well as though you were

four-and-twenty years old at least, and therefore there is no reason

why you should not be declared of age to-day as though you really were

twenty. And now depart in peace, and in happiness or misfortune, from

which Heaven defend you, remember your father.”

Said took an affectionate and touching farewell of his father, hung

the chain around his neck, stuck the whistle in his girdle, swung

himself upon his horse, and rode to the place from which the caravan

for Mecca started. In a short time eighty camels and a large number of

riders had assembled; the caravan was in motion, and Said rode out of

the gates of Balsora, his native town, which he was not to see again

for a long time.

The novelty of the journey and the different circumstances in which

he found himself distracted his thoughts at first, but when they

approached the desert and the surroundings became more desolate and

barren, he had time to think of many things, especially his father’s

last words to him.

He took out his whistle, looked at it and placed it between his lips,

to judge if it had a good tone. But it gave forth no tones at all,

although he blew until he nearly cracked his cheeks. Annoyed at the

useless gift he had received, he tucked the whistle carelessly away

again. But presently his thoughts turned to his mother’s mysterious

words. He had often heard of fairies, but he had never been able to

ascertain that any of their neighbours in Balsora had any connection

whatever with supernatural beings; the stories he had heard had always

had their foundation in foreign lands and in olden times, and so he

thought that fairies and such-like apparitions had ceased to visit

mankind or to take an interest in their destinies. But in spite of

this he could not help thinking that something very strange had

happened to his mother and he racked his brains to think what it could

all mean, and thus it happened that he was so wrapped in his own

thoughts that he rode all day long without taking notice of the other

travellers, who sang and laughed as they journeyed on.

Said was a handsome young man with bright, fearless eyes, a sweet,

good-natured mouth, and, although so young, he had a very dignified

bearing. The stately manner in which he rode his horse, fully

equipped as he was in warlike attire, drew the attention of many of

the travellers upon him. One old man who rode beside him was so well

pleased with him that he endeavoured by drawing him into conversation

to find out if his character fitted his appearance, and Said, who had

been brought up to reverence age, answered politely and modestly, but

withal so cleverly and prudently, that the old man was delighted with

him. But as Said’s whole mind was concentrated on one subject it was

not long before he led up to it in conversation, and he asked the old

man if he believed in fairies and such-like spirits and whether he

considered they were able to have any influence over the lives of men.

The old man stroked his beard and shook his head slowly. “I have

frequently heard of such visions,” he said, “but I cannot say that I

have personally encountered any supernatural creature whatever; at the

same time I have heard of numberless cases of fairies and genii

appearing to others.” He then began to recount to Said a number of

such extraordinary stories that at last the young man’s head was in a

whirl, and he could not but believe that the strange circumstances

that were supposed to have taken place at his birth were actually

true, and that he was under the protection of some powerful fairy who

would assist him if ever, finding himself in danger, he blew the

little silver whistle. He dreamt that night of fairies, genii, castles

in the air, and magic horses.

But unfortunately the next day he was disillusioned. The caravan had

travelled all day at a leisurely pace, when towards evening some dark

objects were observed at the most distant point in the desert; some

thought it was only another caravan approaching, but Said’s old friend

cried out to all to be prepared for an attack, for without doubt a

horde of wild Arabs was approaching.

The men seized their weapons, the women and merchandise were placed in

the centre, and all was prepared for an attack.

The dark mass moved slowly across the plain, looking at the distance

like a number of storks about to wing their flight to foreign lands.

But as they approached nearer they increased their pace, and very soon

it was seen they were a body of men armed with lances who dashed

forward with incredible swiftness upon the caravan. The men defended

themselves bravely; but the robber force consisted of four hundred

men, and they surrounded the caravan on every side, attacking

skilfully with their lances. At this terrible moment Said, who had

fought with the bravest, remembered his whistle and, placing it to his

lips, blew with all his might. Alas! he let it fall again quickly, for

it emitted not a sound. Enraged over this bitter disappointment he

took aim at an Arab, who, by reason of his magnificent apparel, was

distinguished from the rest. He shot him through the heart and the man

fell from his horse--dead.

“Allah! what have you done, young man,” cried the old man. “Now we are

lost indeed.”

And so it appeared, for when the robbers saw this man fall they

uttered horrible yells and renewed the attack so fiercely that the

few men who were still unwounded were soon dispersed. Said was

surrounded in a few moments by five or six, but he wielded his lance

so dexterously that no one could approach him. At length one of them

was about to despatch him with an arrow when a comrade made a sign to

him to desist, and before Said could determine what the new mode of

attack was to be he felt a lassoo flung over his head; he made frantic

efforts to free himself from it, but in vain, the cord only drew

tighter and tighter--he was a prisoner. The caravan was now completely

overcome, some of the men killed, the rest captured and, as the Arabs

did not all belong to one company, they divided the prisoners and

booty between them, some of them journeying to the South, others

towards the East.

Four armed men rode beside Said and regarded him with angry looks, and

he felt sure that the man he had killed must have been a person of

importance, probably a prince or chieftain. He felt thankful that he

had incurred their special wrath, for he quite expected they were

taking him to their camp to kill him, and death was preferable to

slavery, which was the only other alternative. The armed men watched

his every movement and threatened him with their spears if he

attempted to turn round. However, he managed to turn his head for a

moment and was delighted to see that the old man who had been his

companion, and whom he had believed to be dead, was accompanying his

party.

At length he saw trees and tents in the distance, and as they came

nearer a number of women and children came to meet them, and scarcely

had these exchanged a few words with the robbers than they broke into

fearful weeping and screaming and, raising their arms towards Said,

cursed him loudly.

[Illustration: _Said made frantic efforts to free himself._

(P. 284.)]

“This is he,” they shrieked, “who has killed the great and noble

Almansor, the bravest of all men, this is he, and he shall die and we

will give his flesh to the jackals to devour.”

They pelted him with pieces of wood, clods of earth, and anything

they could lay hands on, so fiercely, that one of Said’s guards was

obliged to intervene. “Back, unruly ones,” he cried, “give place, you

women; the man who slew the noble Almansor must die, it is true, but

by the hand of a brave man, not by the hand of a woman.”

When they reached an open space amongst the tents they stopped, the

prisoners were fastened together in couples, and the booty carried

into the tents. Said, however, was bound alone and was led into a

large tent where an old man sat. He was magnificently clothed and his

stately mien showed that he was the chief of the robber band. The men

who led Said in approached him with sorrowful looks and bent heads.

“The shrieks of the women have broken to me the news of what has

occurred,” he said majestically, “and your attitudes confirm it;

Almansor has fallen.”

“Almansor has fallen, indeed,” answered the men, “but we bring here to

you his murderer in order that you may determine what manner of death

he shall die. Shall we shoot at him from a distance with our arrows,

or shall we chase him down a pathway of spears, or shall we hang him,

or have him torn to pieces by horses?”

“Who are you?” asked Selim, the chief, glancing gloomily at the

captive, who stood before him waiting courageously to meet his death.

Said answered briefly and with truth.

“Did you murder my son treacherously, attacking him with arrow or

spear from the rear?”

“Not so,” replied Said, “I killed him in fair fight, and because he

had slain eight of my companions before my eyes.”

“Is it as he says?” demanded Selim of Said’s guard.

“Yes, it is true enough,” one of them made reply, “Almansor was killed

in fair fight.”

“Then he only did the same as we would have done,” replied Selim; “he

killed his enemy who would have robbed him of life and liberty,

therefore unbind him at once.”

The men stared at him in surprise and began to obey him most

unwillingly--“Is the murderer of your brave son to go unpunished?” one

of them asked, “I would we had killed him at once instead of bringing

him here.”

“He shall not die!” cried Selim: “I claim him as my share of the

booty; he shall be my servant and I will have him in my own tent.”

Said could find no words with which to thank the old man--the men left

the tent grumbling. As soon as they had communicated Selim’s decision

to the women and children who were waiting outside to witness Said’s

execution, there was a terrible outcry, some of them vowing to avenge

Almansor’s death, as his own father would not.

The rest of the prisoners were divided amongst their capturers, some

were released in order that they might go and treat for a ransom for

some of their wealthy prisoners, and some were kept as slaves and sent

to tend the herds of cattle; many who had formerly ten or twelve

slaves to wait upon them were now set to perform the most menial

duties. But not so Said. Was it his brave, heroic, appearance which

prepossessed Selim in his favour or was it the intervention of some

good fairy? There was no knowing which, but Said was certainly treated

more like a son than a servant. But the strange affection of Selim for

Said caused jealousy amongst the others. Everywhere he encountered

hostile glances, and when he passed through the camp he heard

murmurings and angry words, and sometimes an arrow would whizz past

his breast, and at such times he could not help thinking that the

little whistle he carried must in some way protect him.

If he complained to Selim it was useless, for the whole camp seemed

banded together to shield the would-be murderer and to take part

against Said.

And so one day Selim said: “I had hoped that you might have stood to

me in place of my son whom you slew, but the fault lies neither with

you nor me. They are all embittered against you, and I find I am

unable to protect you. Of what good would it be to me after your death

to punish your murderer?

“As soon as the men return from their present expedition I shall say I

have received the ransom money from your father and send you away in

charge of several trustworthy men.”

“But there is no one I can trust beside yourself,” said Said. “They

will murder me as soon as we are well on the way.”

“I will make them take an oath to protect you that no one has ever

yet broken.”

A few days later the men returned to camp and Selim kept his promise.

He gave the youth weapons, a handsome robe, and a horse, summoned the

fighting men and chose five from them to serve as Said’s escort,

forced them to take a solemn oath that they would not kill him, and

bade him farewell with tears.

[Illustration: _Sometimes an arrow would whizz past his breast._

(P. 288.)]

The five men rode in gloomy silence through the desert with Said. The

young man could not fail to see how unwillingly they executed their

commission, and what troubled him also was that two of his escort had

been present at the fight in which he had killed Almansor. They had

ridden for about eight hours when Said noticed they were whispering

together and that they looked at him more evilly than previously even.

He strained every effort to overhear what they said and became aware

that they were speaking in a mysterious language that they only used

amongst themselves when it was necessary to keep the matters in hand

perfectly secret. Selim had, however, taken care to instruct Said in

this language, so that he was now able to understand what they were

talking about, which was not a very reassuring subject!

“Here is the spot where we attacked the caravan,” said one, “and where

one of the bravest of men fell by the hand of a mere boy.”

“The wind has obliterated the tracks of his horses’ feet,” replied

another, “but I have not forgotten where they were.”

“And to our shame the one by whose hand he fell still lives,” said a

third. “Has ever such a thing been heard of, that a father would not

revenge the death of his only son? Selim, without doubt, is becoming

old and childish.”

“But if the father neglects his duty,” spoke a fourth, “then it is

left to a friend to revenge his fallen friend. Here on this spot ought

we to strike him down. That is as it should be according to ancient

custom.”

“But we swore to protect him,” cried the fifth. “We may not kill him,

for we must not break our oath.”

“That is true,” said another, “and therefore the assassin must not die

by the hands of his enemies.”

“Wait!” cried the most forbidding-looking of them all, “old Selim has

a wise head, but not so wise as he would have us believe. It is true

we swore that we would spare the man’s life, but if we leave him

alive, but bound hand and foot, the burning sun and the sharp teeth of

the jackals will soon make an end of him.”

Said had made up his mind to the worst, but was determined to make an

effort to regain his liberty. Suddenly he turned his horse aside, and,

setting spurs to it, rode like the wind across the desert. But the

five robbers understood the desert better than he did. In a moment

they separated, urged their horses forward at a furious pace, and

speedily succeeded in surrounding the unhappy youth. They would not

use their weapons on account of the oath they had taken, but once more

using a lassoo they threw it over his head and brought him to the

ground; then they beat him unmercifully, bound his hands and feet with

ropes, and left him lying upon the burning sand.

Said begged for mercy, promising them a handsome sum as ransom: but

they laughed mockingly and rode away. He listened to the sound of

their horses’ hoofs for a few moments and then gave himself up for

lost. He thought of the grief of his father when his only son did not

return to him, and he thought of his own misery, in being left to die

such a terrible death in the flower of his youth. The sun rose higher

and higher and scorched his head and face. With great difficulty he

succeeded in rising to his feet. But this gave him little relief. The

little whistle had fallen from his girdle and hung loosely from his

neck. He succeeded at length, after great trouble, in taking it

between his lips; but again it failed him. Overcome with despair he

sank down upon the sand once more and speedily became unconscious.

Several hours later he awoke, hearing a voice close to him and feeling

himself seized by the shoulder. He uttered a cry of horror, for he

thought it was a jackal that was about to devour him. Next he felt a

touch upon his legs, and became aware that it was not the claws of a

wild beast that were mauling him--but the hands of a human being

tending him carefully, and then he heard a voice say, “He is alive,

but evidently takes us for enemies.”

At length Said opened his eyes and saw a little man bending over him.

He was very fat and had small eyes and a very long beard. He spoke to

the young man in friendly tones, helped him to rise, gave him food and

drink, and told him as he refreshed himself that he was a merchant

from Bagdad, named Kalum-Bek, and that he dealt in shawls and veils

for women. He had been on a business journey and was on his way home

when he found Said lying half dead upon the sand. The young man’s

brilliant apparel and the glittering jewels in his dagger had

attracted his attention, and he had used every effort to revive him,

and at length he had succeeded.

The young man thanked him for saving his life, for he saw that without

this man’s intervention he must have perished miserably, and as he had

no means of helping himself and did not take kindly to the idea of

trudging afoot through the desert, he thankfully accepted a seat on

one of the heavily-laden camels and determined to go to Bagdad

first, and then see if he could join himself to a party travelling

to Balsora.

[Illustration: _THE ADVENTURES OF SAID_

_“He saw a little man bending over him”_

_p. 292_]

On the way the merchant discoursed on the excellent qualities of the

Ruler of the Faithful, Harun Al-Raschid. He told him of his love of

justice and his shrewdness, and how he could unravel the deepest

mysteries of the law in the most remarkable manner. “But he takes good

care to keep himself informed as to what is taking place among his

subjects,” said Kalum-Bek. “His chief Chamberlain Messour is my

cousin, and he tells me that he never goes to bed as other folks do,

but just contents himself with a few hours’ sleep in the morning, but

every night he disguises himself as a merchant or sailor, or in some

everyday costume, and wanders about Bagdad to see that everything is

right and in order, as it should be. That is the reason that folks are

so polite to everyone who speaks to them, for it may just as well be

the Caliph as some dirty Arab, and there is sufficient timber around

Bagdad to provide rods to whip the whole populace.”

Listening to his stories Said could not help being glad that he was to

visit Bagdad and probably see the celebrated Harun Al-Raschid in spite

of the fact that he was so anxious to see his father.

They reached Bagdad in ten days’ time and Said was astounded at the

magnificence of the city, which was then at the height of its glory.

The merchant invited him to come to his house and Said accepted

willingly, for he had no money to pay for a lodging. The day after his

arrival he dressed himself carefully in the splendid clothing

bestowed on him by the robber chieftain and thought to himself that he

need not be ashamed to go out into the streets and show himself. But

at that moment the merchant entered and looked at him with a cunning

smile.

“It is all very well, young sir,” said he, “to have a fine appearance;

but have you money in your pockets to suit your attire? What do you

intend to do with yourself? It seems to me you are a bit of a dreamer,

and do not consider the future at all.”

“Dear Kalum-Bek,” said the youth, blushing, for he was much confused,

“it is true I have no money, but perhaps you will be kind enough to

advance me a little, so that I may journey home, and my father will

not fail to refund it to you.”

“Your father, fellow?” cried the merchant, laughing loudly, “I verily

believe the sun has injured your brain. Do you suppose I believe a

single word of the fairy tales you told me in the desert, about your

father being a rich man in Balsora, you his only son, and about the

robbers attacking you and so on? I know that all rich people in

Balsora are merchants and I have had dealings with most of them. But I

never heard of one named Benezar. Therefore, it is quite certain that

either you never came from Balsora or else you are the son of a poor

man, and to a young vagabond like you I will certainly advance no

money.”

Said turned pale with rage; but nothing that he could say would

apparently convince the merchant that he was speaking the truth. Said

reminded him how he had been found lying bound in the desert, but the

merchant replied that it was quite likely he was a robber himself and

that the persons he had attacked had overcome and bound him.

At length, as the merchant would advance him no money, Said decided

that there was nothing left for him to do but to apply to the Caliph

for assistance; but Kalum-Bek reminded him that in order to approach

the Caliph he would have to apply to Messour the Chamberlain, and that

he would give his cousin a hint of the sort of liar Said was.

Presently the artful fellow pretended to relent.

“I pity you on account of your youth,” he said, “there is still hope

that you may improve, and I am willing to employ you in my shop in the

Bazaar. You shall serve me for a year and at the end of that time if

you are not satisfied to remain with me I will give you your wages and

let you go where you will. I give you until mid-day to decide. If you

consent, well and good; if not I shall seize your robe and dagger and

all you have that is worth anything to repay myself for the cost of

your journey here, and the price of the seat on the camel. After that

I shall have you turned out of my house and you may go and beg in the

bazaars or at the doors of the mosques.”

With these words the wicked little creature left the poor young man,

who gazed after him with contemptuous eyes. He was disgusted to think

of the cunning way in which he had been entrapped. He thought he would

escape, but found the windows were barred and the door locked and so,

after some consideration, he came to the conclusion that for the

present he had better agree to the terms offered him and serve in the

shop. There seemed nothing else to be done, for without money he could

not hope to reach Balsora; but he made up his mind to appeal to the

Caliph on the first opportunity.

The following day Kalum-Bek took his new servant to his shop. He

showed him the shawls and veils and stuffs in which he dealt and

instructed him in his duties.

Dressed as a merchant’s assistant he was to stand at the door of the

shop and show off the wares. And now Said understood why the bad

little man wanted him.

Kalum-Bek, being short and very ugly, excited the derision of the

passers-by as he stood inviting custom. The boys teased him, the women

called him a scarecrow, and everyone made fun of him, but everyone

looked with admiration at the tall, handsome youth who handled the

goods so cleverly and showed them off to the best advantage.

When Kalum-Bek saw that his plan answered and that Said attracted many

more customers than he had been able to, he treated the young man much

better, fed him well and saw that he had good clothes to show off his

fine face and figure; but these attentions did not soften Said in the

least and he made up his mind to escape on the first opportunity.

One day they had done an unusually good trade in the shop, so many

things had been bought that the porters were all away carrying home

the goods the customers had bought, but a lady entered the shop,

bought some goods and asked for a man to carry them home at once.

“In half an hour, I will send them with pleasure,” said Kalum-Bek,

“but just now all my men are out; if you cannot wait so long, perhaps

you would prefer to engage an outside porter.”

“A fine merchant you are,” said the lady angrily, “to advise me to

engage a strange man to carry home my purchases. He would doubtless

make off with my goods and who would repay me then? No, according to

the custom of the market, it is your duty to provide a man to carry

home goods purchased, and I insist upon having one.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Kalum-Bek, “if you will only wait half an

hour I can oblige you.”

[Illustration: _Said was to stand at the door of the shop and

show off the wares._ (P. 298.)]

“This is a common shop indeed,” replied the enraged lady, “not to

provide sufficient porters. But there stands a great idle fellow, he

shall carry home my parcel and I will give him a coin for his pains.”

“Oh! no!” screamed Kalum-Bek, “I cannot spare my assistant, he is my

signboard to attract folks in. He is not allowed to leave the door.”

“Nonsense,” replied the old woman, and without further parlance pushed

her parcel into Said’s arms. “You cannot sell very good wares if you

need to lay traps to catch your customers.”

“For goodness sake go, but be quick to return,” said the merchant,

“the old wretch will make her complaints heard all over the Bazaar.”

Said followed the old lady, who walked a great deal quicker than one

would have thought possible at her age. They reached a beautiful

house, knocked, and the wide doors flew open and they ascended a

flight of marble steps. As the old lady beckoned Said to follow her,

he went into a magnificent apartment decorated in a superb style. The

old lady seated herself in an exhausted condition upon a sofa and

signed to the young man to put down his parcel, handed him a small

silver coin and bade him depart.

He had reached the door when a silvery voice called him by name. He

turned, astonished that anyone in that place should know his name, and

to his surprise saw a beautiful lady, surrounded by numerous slaves

and women servants, sitting upon the sofa where the old woman had

been. Dumb with surprise he folded his arms and made a deep obeisance.

“Said, dear youth,” said the lady, “although I am sorry for the

misfortunes that have befallen you, still Bagdad is the place

appointed by fate for your fortunes to change, should it happen that

you left your father’s house before the time appointed. Said, have

you still your little whistle?”

“Indeed I have,” he cried joyfully as he drew forth the golden chain,

“and are you the good fairy who gave it to me at my birth?”

“I was your dear mother’s friend,” answered the fairy, “and I will be

yours as long as you remain worthy. Oh! how foolish was your father to

disregard my instructions. You would have been saved much suffering.”

“Well, it cannot be helped,” said Said. “But dearest lady, could you

not harness the North-East wind to your cloud carriage and carry me

away in a few moments to my father’s house in Balsora? I will promise

to patiently await the remaining six months before I am twenty years

of age.”

The fairy smiled. “That is easier said than done,” she said.

“Unfortunately I am unable to do anything for you at present, not even

rescue you from Kalum-Bek, who happens to be under the protection of

your most powerful enemy.”

“Then I have a bad fairy as well as a good one, eh?” said Said; “but

if you can do nothing else you can surely help me with good advice.

Shall I go to the Caliph and complain to him? He is a wise man and he

will know how to protect me against Kalum-Bek.”

“Yes, Harun is very wise, but unfortunately he is but human and trusts

his Chamberlain implicitly, and with justice, too, for he has tried

him and proved him to be trusted. But honest Messour in his turn

trusts Kalum-Bek, and there he is wrong, for Kalum is a bad man,

although he is Messour’s cousin. He has told Messour a number of lies

about you and these lies have been repeated to the Caliph, so that if

you went to them with your true story they would not believe you; you

must wait for a fitting opportunity to go to Harun, for it is written

in the stars that you are to become the object of his especial

favour.”

“Alas!” answered Said, “I suppose then I must submit for the present

to be the servant of Kalum-Bek. But one favour you might be able to

grant me. I have been brought up to the use of arms, and my greatest

pleasure is to take part in tournaments where there is fighting with

lance and sword. Every week the youths of this town meet together and

engage in such a tournament, but only the best-born are allowed to

compete, a shopman’s assistant would certainly not be allowed to enter

the lists. Could you manage to let me have a horse, a suit of clothes

and weapons, and to alter my face so that I should not be recognised?”

“That is a wish such as does credit to a noble youth,” replied the

fairy. “Your mother’s father was the bravest man in Syria and his

spirit seems to have descended on you. Take note of this house. Every

week you may come here and you will find awaiting you a horse, two

armed servants, robes and weapons, also a wash for your face that will

transform you completely. And now, Said, farewell! Persevere in your

wise and virtuous conduct and you will find that in six months’ time

your whistle will sound when you blow it, and Zuleima’s ear will not

be deaf to it.”

The young man parted from his protectress with thanks, carefully

noted the position of the house, and went back to the Bazaar.

He arrived at the right moment to rescue his master, Kalum-Bek. The

shop was crowded with people, the boys were dancing round Kalum and

taunting him, and the older people stood by and laughed. The merchant

was in a furious rage. He stood with a shawl in one hand and a veil in

the other. The uproar was caused by Said’s absence, for scarcely had

he left than Kalum took his stand at the door and began to cry his

wares, but nobody would buy from the ugly old man.

Kalum had noticed two men walking up and down the Bazaar, evidently

looking out for something. In reality they had come to buy presents

for their wives and had been commanded by them to purchase only from

the handsome young shopman.

At length Kalum called to them: “Here, my masters, you will find

everything you require by me. Shawls and veils of the finest quality.”

“That may be, my good man,” they replied, “but it has become the

fashion amongst the women to buy their goods from a certain handsome

young man named Said, and we are looking out for him. If you can

direct us to him we will come and buy from you another time.”

“Allah is good,” said Kalum, grinning in friendly fashion, “the

prophet has led you to the right door. You wish to buy veils from the

handsome young shopman, then step inside, this is his shop.”

One of the men laughed at his assertion that he the ugly little

creature, was the tall handsome shopman but the other man, who

believed he was being made fun of, lost his temper and rated him in no

measured terms. Kalum was beside himself and called his neighbours to

testify that his shop was the one known as the shop of the handsome

young assistant. But the neighbours, who were jealous of the trade he

drove, pretended to know nothing about the matter and the two men

struck the “old liar,” as they called him. Kalum protected himself

more by shrieking and yelling than by using his fists and so he

attracted a crowd to his shop. Everyone in the town knew him to be an

avaricious old cheat and so no one interfered, for they thought he

deserved all he was getting. One of the men had seized him by the

beard and was about to further ill-treat him when he was seized and

flung violently to the ground, so that his turban and both his shoes

flew off.

The crowd, who would have enjoyed seeing Kalum ill-used, began to

murmur, the companion of the man who had been knocked down advanced to

his assistance, but when he saw himself confronted by a tall, handsome

young fellow he thought it better not to strike him. Kalum no sooner

spied his assistant than he began calling out, “There he is, there is

the handsome young shopman called Said.” The man who had been knocked

down got up again and limped away rather ashamed of himself, without

having bought either shawl or veil.

“Oh! prince of shop-assistants,” cried Kalum-Bek, “you did indeed

arrive at the very moment you were wanted. How can I reward you for

the service you have done me?”

Said had merely acted on the spur of the moment, and now that the

affair was over he half regretted having interfered on the old man’s

behalf, for he well knew he deserved a good punishment. However, he

thought he might make use of the old fellow’s offer of a reward. So he

asked to be given one evening a week for his own amusement, either to

take a walk or to spend it as he wished, and Kalum-Bek, who knew his

assistant had too much good sense to attempt to escape without money,

readily granted him the favour.

[Illustration: _The man was seized and flung violently to the

ground._ (P. 304.)]

The following Wednesday was the day upon which the young men of high

rank met to hold their tournament, and so Said asked if he could have

this evening for himself. Kalum being willing, the young man went

straight off to the street in which the fairy lived and knocked at the

door, which immediately flew open. The servants appeared to be

prepared to receive him, for, without asking his business, they took

him upstairs to a fine apartment where they first gave him magic

water to wash in. Having laved his face he looked at himself in a

mirror and found that his face was tanned as by the sun and that he

had a fine black beard, so that he looked at least ten years older

than he had done previously.

After that they led him into another room where a superb suit of

clothes awaited him which might not have disgraced the Caliph himself.

In addition to a turban of the finest materials, having a heron’s

plume fastened with a diamond clasp, there was a dress of shimmering

red silk embroidered with silver flowers, a corselet of silver

chain-work, so finely made that it accommodated itself to every

movement of his body, and was yet so strong that neither lance nor

sword could pierce it. A Damascus sword with richly-jewelled scabbard

and hilt completed his warlike attire.

When he was completely equipped and about to leave the house, one of

the servants gave him a silk handkerchief and told him that the

mistress of the house had sent it to him, so that when he wished to

become his usual self again he had but to wipe his face with it and

the tan colour and beard would disappear.

In the courtyard of the house three beautiful horses were standing.

Said mounted the finest and his servants the other two, and he then

rode joyously forth to the tournament.

All eyes were attracted by the splendour of his dress and weapons and

a murmur of surprise went round the ring as he entered it.

It was indeed a glittering assembly of all the noblest and bravest

young men in Bagdad, even the brothers of the Caliph taking part in

the fray. As Said entered, the son of the Grand Vizier and some of his

friends approached him and asked his name and birthplace.

Said replied that his name was Almansor and that he came from Cairo,

and was travelling about. Having heard rumours of the valour and skill

of the young nobles of Bagdad, he had wished to witness their feats

and perhaps take part in them.

A young man, approving of Said’s bold appearance, ordered a lance to

be given to him and bade him choose his parties, for the whole Company

had divided itself into two parties, so that they might encounter each

other in a mass and then singly.

But if Said’s appearance had attracted the general attention his feats

of arms did so still more. His horse was faster than a bird, and his

sword flashed like lightning.

He threw his lance at the target as though it had been an arrow from

the bow of an expert archer. At the conclusion of the tournament he

had beaten all his opponents, and the Caliph’s brother and the Grand

Vizier’s son, who had been on his side, begged him to try a bout with

them. He succeeded in vanquishing the Caliph’s brother, but the

contest with the Grand Vizier’s son remained undecided, and it was

thought better to settle it at the next meeting.

The day after the tournament everyone in Bagdad was speaking of the

handsome and brave stranger. Even those who had been beaten by him

were loud in their praise of him, and Said heard folks discussing him

as he stood at the door of the shop and regretting that no one knew

where he lived.

When the time for the next tournament came he found in the fairy’s

house a still more beautiful suit of clothes and more costly weapons.

Half Bagdad had assembled to witness the fray and the Caliph himself

looked down upon it from a balcony. He too was astounded at Almansor’s

dexterity, and at the end of the day he hung a gold medal and chain

around his neck as a mark of his admiration.

But this second and still more brilliant victory aroused the jealousy

of some of the young people: they did not like to feel that a stranger

should come and triumph over the flower of their young nobility, and

they determined amongst themselves that five or six of them would

attack him at once, as if by chance.

Said did not fail to notice the angry glances of the young men, and

speedily noted that with the exception of the Caliph’s brother and the

Grand Vizier’s son not one of them had any friendly inclination

towards him. Strange to say, the young man who seemed to be the most

set against him was the young man he had knocked down in Kalum’s shop,

and he looked at him so suspiciously that Said was half afraid he had

recognised him by his height or his voice. Even the friendship of the

Caliph’s brother and the Grand Vizier’s son was somewhat embarrassing,

for they questioned him closely as to where he was to be found.

But the plan the envious young men made against him was frustrated,

for in addition to his own foresight and bravery the Caliph’s brother

and the Grand Vizier’s son came to his assistance as soon as they saw

him surrounded by half a dozen opponents, all of whom were trying to

unhorse him. Together they scattered the whole troop and the Caliph’s

brother threatened to expel the treacherous young men from the lists.

For over four months Said continued thus to prove his bravery to the

astonishment of all Bagdad, when one night as he was on his way home

from the place of combat he heard some voices which sounded familiar.

Four men were in front of him, walking slowly and apparently

discussing something of great moment.

[Illustration: _Said approached them quietly._ (P. 309.)]

Said approached them quietly and then discovered that they were

speaking in the dialect spoken by Selim’s robber horde, and he

suspected that they were probably planning a robbery.

His first impulse was to make off as fast as he could, but on

consideration he decided to listen to what they were saying in the

hope of preventing some mischief.

“The porter distinctly said the street on the right-hand side of the

Bazaar,” said one; “he will pass down it to-night with the Grand

Vizier.”

“Good,” replied the other, “I am not afraid of the Grand Vizier, he is

old and no particular hero; but the Caliph will show fight, besides I

do not trust him. There will be a dozen or so bodyguards following

him, I’ll be bound.”

“Not one soul,” answered a third. “Whenever he has been seen at night

it was always either with the Vizier or the Chamberlain alone.

To-night he must be ours; but he is not to be harmed.”

“I think the best we can do is to throw a lassoo over his head. He

must not be killed, for we should not get much of a ransom for his

corpse, if we had anything at all.”

“Then one hour before midnight!” they all said together, and parted,

each in a different direction.

Said was not a little alarmed and at first started off to warn the

Caliph, but remembering what the fairy had said about Kalum-Bek having

poisoned his mind against him he determined to rely upon his own good

sword to assist him.

So instead of returning to Kalum-Bek’s house he sat down upon the

steps of a mosque to await the hour before midnight. Shortly before

the time he went and hid himself in the porch of a house in the street

the robbers had mentioned.

Presently two men came strolling down the street whom he took at first

to be the Caliph and his Vizier; but when they came opposite to him

they clapped their hands softly and two others came hurrying to join

them. They whispered awhile and parted, three hiding themselves in

another porch, not far from Said, and one walking up and down the

road. The night was very dark, but quiet, and so Said had to trust to

his sharp ears alone.

[Illustration: _The fourth, seeing what had happened, fled._

(P. 312.)]

Half an hour passed before he heard steps coming from the direction of

the Bazaar. The robber must have heard them also, for he slunk past

Said towards the Bazaar. The steps came nearer and Said could just

recognise some dark forms, when the robber clapped his hands softly

and the same moment the three in the background darted forward. Those

attacked must have been armed, for he could hear the clash of swords,

so, unsheathing his own Damascus steel, he threw himself into the

thick of the fray, shouting: “Down with the enemies of the noble

Harun.” He felled one robber at the first stroke and then attacked two

others who were about to disarm a man whom they had caught in a

noose. He hewed at the cord blindly, to sever it, but in so doing

struck one of the robbers so furiously across the arm that he cut his

hand off. But now the fourth robber, who had been fighting another

man, turned towards Said, who was still engaged with the third, but

the man whose cords had been cut no sooner felt himself free than he

drew his dagger and struck one of the robbers in the side. The fourth,

seeing what had happened, threw away his sword and fled.

Said was not left long in doubt as to whom he had saved, for the

taller of the two men approached him and said: “I do not know which is

the more incomprehensible, the attack on my life or my freedom, or the

surprising manner in which you came to my assistance. How did you know

who I was, and did you know of these men’s intentions?” “Ruler of the

Faithful,” answered Said, “for I do not doubt that you are he, this

evening I chanced to walk behind four men, who were speaking a strange

dialect that I once learnt. They spoke of taking you prisoner and of

killing your Vizier. As it was too late to come and warn you, I

determined to hide myself near the spot they had mentioned for the

attack to take place, and to come to your assistance.”

“I thank you heartily,” said Harun, “but I am not anxious to remain

here any longer than necessary and so I give you this ring; bring it

to the palace to-morrow and I will think how best I can reward you.

Come, Vizier, we had best be going.”

As he spoke he placed a ring on the young man’s finger, and then

attempted to draw the Vizier away, but the latter begged him to excuse

him a moment and, turning to the astonished youth, he handed him a

heavy purse. “Young man,” said he, “my master, the Caliph, can raise

you to any height he pleases, even to be my successor; I myself can do

little, but the little I can do is better done to-day. Therefore take

this purse and remember that I still count myself your debtor.”

Quite intoxicated with happiness Said hurried away home. Here,

however, he met with a very bad reception, for Kalum-Bek was very

angry with him for being so late. He had been afraid lest he had lost

his handsome sign post, and so he raged and scolded like a madman. But

Said, who had given a glance into his purse and seen that it was full

of pieces of gold, thought to himself that now he had sufficient money

to take him home, even without the assistance of the Caliph, which he

guessed would take no mean form, and so he gave back Kalum-Bek word

for word and told him plainly that he would remain with him no longer.

“You rascally vagabond,” said Kalum-Bek, “where will you obtain a

dinner or a night’s lodging if I withdraw my protection from you?”

“That is no concern of yours,” answered Said defiantly. “Good-bye to

you, for you will see me no more.”

So saying, he ran off, whilst Kalum-Bek stared after him, dumb with

surprise. The next morning, when he had had time to consider matters,

he sent his porters out to spy out news of his assistant, and after

some time one of them returned with the news that he had seen Said

come out of a mosque and enter a caravanserai. He was wearing a

handsome dress, a dagger and sword and a magnificent turban.

When Kalum-Bek heard this he said: “He must have robbed me and dressed

himself up on my money. Oh! what an unfortunate man I am.”

He hastened to the chief of the police, and as it was known that he

was a relative of Messour, the Chamberlain, he had no difficulty in

getting an order for Said’s arrest.

Said was calmly sitting outside a caravanserai conversing with a

merchant whom he had met there, about the journey to Balsora, his

native town, when suddenly several men fell upon him and bound his

hands behind him, in spite of his resistance.

He asked by what right they used such violence and they replied that

it was in the name of the law and by the instigation of his master,

Kalum-Bek. And Kalum-Bek himself, appearing at that moment, mocked and

reviled Said and, plunging his hand into the young man’s pocket, drew

forth, to the surprise of the surrounding people, a large purse full

of gold.

“Do you see what he has stolen from me?” he yelled in triumph. And the

bystanders looked at Said in disgust. “So young, so handsome, and yet

so wicked,” they said. “To prison with him that he may be flogged.”

So they dragged him away to prison, followed by a crowd of people

calling out, “Do you see the handsome shop-assistant from the Bazaar?

He robbed his master of two hundred gold pieces and then ran away.”

Brought before the chief of the police, Said would have defended

himself; but the officer would not allow him to speak and only

listened to Kalum-Bek, who declared that the money and purse found

upon Said belonged to him. The judge therefore ordered the money to be

given to Kalum-Bek, but it did not gain him possession of the handsome

young assistant, who was worth at least a thousand gold pieces to him.

“In accordance with the law passed by my illustrious master, the

Caliph, a few days ago,” said the judge, “every thief who steals over

a hundred gold pieces is to be sent to perpetual banishment on a

desert island. This thief has fallen into my hands exactly at the

right time, for he completes the number of twenty such fellows.

To-morrow they will be packed on board a ship and sent to sea.”

Said was in despair; he begged the officer to listen to him and to

allow him to speak one word to the Caliph, but he found no mercy.

Kalum-Bek, who now regretted the false accusation, also spoke in his

favour, but the judge answered: “You have your money and you can be

content, go home and keep quiet, otherwise I shall fine you ten gold

pieces for every word you utter in argument.” Kalum was silent then,

the judge motioned with his hand, and the unhappy Said was led away.

He was taken to a dark, damp prison, where nineteen other unfortunate

creatures were lying about on some mouldy straw. They received their

new companion with rude laughter and horrible expressions of anger

against the judge and the Caliph.

Terrible as it seemed to him to be doomed to be cast upon a desert

island, yet he comforted himself with the thought of leaving his

loathsome prison, thinking it could not be so bad when once they had

put to sea. But he was deceived, for the twenty criminals were cast

down into the hold, which was pitch dark, very close, and so low that

it was impossible to stand upright.

The anchor was weighed and Said wept bitter tears as the ship receded

from his native land. Once a day the prisoners received a little bread

and fruit and a drink of water. The atmosphere was so close and

unhealthy that almost every other day one of the prisoners was found

dead, but Said’s youth and splendid health saved him.

They had been at sea about a fortnight when there was an unaccustomed

running to and fro upon deck, and the roaring of the waves and

pitching of the vessel having increased, Said guessed that there was a

storm raging. As the rocking of the vessel grew worse and worse,

shrieks and lamentations resounded from below, and when the prisoners

found that the hold was filling with water they knocked at the

trap-door, and as no one answered they threw themselves against it and

their united strength burst it open. As they came upon deck they found

that the crew had deserted them and taken to the boats. Most of the

prisoners were in despair, for the violence of the storm seemed, if

anything, to increase. They took a last meal of the provisions they

found on the ship, when suddenly the ship, which had been stuck fast

upon a rock, was washed off by an enormous wave and sank.

[Illustration: _THE ADVENTURES OF SAID._

_“It had turned into an enormous dolphin.”_]

Said had managed to secure a floating spar, and by using his feet

as oars he had kept himself afloat for some time, when suddenly the

little magic whistle on the golden chain slipped from his vest and he

thought he would try it once more. This time it gave forth a clear

silvery tone, and in a moment the storm had subsided as though oil had

been poured upon the waves. He was about to gaze around him to see if

land were in sight, when he noticed a peculiar movement in the spar

upon which he sat astride, and in some alarm he saw that it had turned

into an enormous dolphin and was carrying him along as swiftly as an

arrow. He guessed he had his good fairy to thank for this and called

out his thanks to her.

His extraordinary steed went at such speed that before evening fell he

sighted land and became aware that he was in a wide river. As they

were going against the stream the pace slowed down a little. By this

time Said was very hungry, so he blew his whistle and wished for a

meal. Immediately the huge fish stopped, a table rose up from the

water, as dry as though it had been a week in the broad sunshine; it

was set out with the most delicious food and drink imaginable, and

Said set to and made a hearty meal, for since his imprisonment his

food had been scanty and unappetising. When he had at length satisfied

his hunger he uttered his thanks and the table disappeared, he dug his

heels into the dolphin’s sides and it began to swim on again.

As the sun began to sink Said saw a town in the distance, the towers

of which seemed to him to resemble those of Bagdad. He had no great

wish to land in Bagdad, but his faith in the good fairy was so strong

that he was sure she would not allow him to fall into the hands of the

wicked Kalum-Bek.

About a mile distant from the town Said noticed a fine country

mansion, and to his surprise the dolphin began to steer towards it.

Upon the roof of the house were several well-dressed men, and on the

shore were a number of servants, all of whom were staring at him in

astonishment. A flight of marble steps led from the water to the

mansion, and here the dolphin stopped, and Said had scarcely set foot

upon the steps when the fish disappeared.

At once some servants hurried towards him and begged him, in their

master’s name, to go up to him after he had changed his wet clothing.

They brought a suit of clothes to him and, having dressed hastily, he

followed the servants to the roof, where he found three men, the

tallest and handsomest of whom came towards him with a friendly smile.

“Who are you, wonderful stranger,” he asked, “who can tame the fishes

of the sea so that you can guide them to the right or left as a good

horseman guides his charger? Are you a magician or a man like

ourselves?”

“Sir,” replied Said, “I have been a most unfortunate man for some time

past, but if you will give me permission I will tell you all about

it.” And he commenced to tell his story from the moment he left his

father’s house until the time of his wonderful escape.

He was interrupted frequently by exclamations of astonishment, but as

he concluded the master of the house said: “I believe you implicitly,

Said, but you tell us that you won a gold chain at the tournament and

that the Caliph gave you his ring; can you produce these?”

“I carry them next my heart,” said the youth, “and would only part

with them with my life, for I consider the saving of the Caliph’s life

to have been the noblest action I could have performed.” With that he

handed the chain and ring to the men.

“By the beard of the prophet, it is my ring,” cried the tall handsome

man. “Grand Vizier, come and let us embrace our deliverer.”

It seemed to Said that he must be dreaming when the two embraced him,

and immediately he flung himself upon his face and said, “Pardon me,

Ruler of the Faithful, for having spoken as I did before you, for I

perceive now that you are none other than Harun Al-Raschid, the Great

Caliph of Bagdad.”

“I am your friend,” answered Harun, “and from this time your troubles

are all over. Come with me to Bagdad and you shall be one of my most

trusted officials, for you proved your metal the night you saved my

life.”

Said thanked him and said how gladly he would remain with him always

if only he would allow him first to go and visit his father, who must

be in great sorrow and trouble on his account. The Caliph assented

readily to this and so they mounted their horses and rode into Bagdad,

which they reached just as the sun was setting.

The Caliph ordered a magnificent suite of apartments to be prepared

for Said, and besides this promised to build him a house of his own.

The Caliph’s brother and the Grand Vizier’s son, Said’s old companions

in arms, hastened to come to him as soon as they heard what had

occurred. They embraced the gallant defender of their ruler and begged

him to be their friend. But they were speechless with astonishment

when he handed the gold chain to them and said: “I have been your

friend for a long time, do you not remember this chain?”

They had only known him with a beard and a dark brown complexion, and

when he told them why he had disguised himself, and when he had proved

to them by a bout of fencing that he really was Almansor, they

embraced him joyfully and said they reckoned themselves fortunate in

having such a friend.

The following day, as Said was sitting with the Caliph and the Grand

Vizier, the Chamberlain Messour entered and said, “Ruler of the

Faithful, I wish to ask a favour.”

“Tell me first what it is!” answered the Caliph.

“Without stands my cousin, Kalum-Bek, a well-known merchant of the

Bazaar. He has a curious affair with a man from Balsora, whose son was

Kalum’s servant, but who robbed him and ran off, no one knows whither.

And now the father demands his son from Kalum, who cannot produce him.

And Kalum begs that you should, in virtue of your wisdom and great

learning, decide between him and the man from Balsora.”

“I will judge between them,” replied Harun. “Let your cousin and his

adversary appear in the Hall of Justice in half an hour’s time.”

[Illustration: _A crier was going through the Bazaar._

(P. 322.)]

When Messour had thanked the Caliph and withdrawn, Harun said: “It is

your father, Said, and as I fortunately know the whole truth of the

case I will give judgment like Solomon. You shall conceal yourself

behind the curtains of my throne until I call you, and you, Grand

Vizier, send at once for the wicked and all too hasty police officer.

I shall need him as a witness.” Both did as they were requested.

Said’s heart beat quickly when he saw his father’s pale and careworn

face and noticed the tottering steps with which he entered the Justice

Hall but Kalum-Bek’s confident smile, as he whispered to his cousin

the Chamberlain, enraged him so that he could scarcely restrain

himself from rushing out and giving him a good beating, for he owed

the greater number of his sufferings to this wicked man. The Hall was

crowded with people who wished to hear the Caliph pronounce justice,

and as soon as the ruler of Bagdad had taken his seat on the throne

the Grand Vizier commanded silence and then asked who it was that

appeared as complainant.

Kalum-Bek stepped forward with a bold look on his face and said: “Some

days ago a crier was going through the Bazaar offering a purse of gold

for news of Said of Balsora. As this Said had been in my employ I

said, ‘Here, friend, I can earn your purse of gold.’ Then this man,

who is so hostile towards me now, came to me in a friendly fashion and

asked what I knew. I replied, ‘You are Benezar his father?’ and as he

joyfully agreed, I went on to tell him how I had found Said in the

desert, and saved him and taken care of him and brought him to Bagdad.

In the joy of his heart he gave me the purse of gold, but the foolish

man, when I went on to tell him how his son had served me and how he

had run off with my money, would not believe me and demanded both his

money and his son; neither could I give him, for the money belonged to

me in payment of the news I had given him, and his worthless son I

cannot give him back.”

Next Benezar spoke, defending his son and saying that he was incapable

of stealing, being of a noble and virtuous mind, and he begged the

Caliph to enquire deeply into the matter. “I hope you did your duty

and gave information of the theft, Kalum-Bek?” said the Caliph.

“Certainly!” he replied, smiling, “I took him before the magistrate.”

“Let the magistrate be called,” said the Caliph, and to everyone’s

surprise he appeared immediately. The Caliph asked him if he

remembered the affair, and he assured him he did. “Did you examine the

young man and did he acknowledge the theft?” asked Harun.

“No, he was most obstinate and would confess to none but you!” replied

the magistrate.

“But I do not remember having seen him,” said the Caliph.

“No, indeed,” answered the magistrate. “I might take up too much of

your time if I sent you every vagabond who wishes to speak with you.”

“You know that my ear is open to all,” answered Harun. “But perhaps

the proofs of the theft were so clear that you did not think it

necessary to bring him to me. You had doubtless witnesses, Kalum, to

prove that the money really was yours?”

“Witnesses?” he asked, turning pale, “no I had no witness, for you

know, Ruler of the Faithful, that one piece of gold is exactly like

another, so how could I bring witnesses to prove that these actual

pieces were missing from my money chest?”

“Then how did you know that that particular sum of money belonged to

you?” asked the Caliph.

“On account of the purse they were in,” said Kalum.

“Have you got the purse here?” he enquired further.

“Here it is,” said the merchant, and taking out a purse he handed it

to the Grand Vizier that he might give it to the Caliph.

But the Vizier cried out in feigned astonishment, “By the beard of

the Prophet! The purse is yours? You dog! The purse belonged to me and

I gave it filled with a hundred gold pieces to a brave young man who

rescued me from a great danger.”

“Can you swear to that?” asked the Caliph.

“I am perfectly certain,” replied the Vizier, “my daughter worked it

for me.”

“Ah, you have received false information, magistrate,” said the

Caliph. “Why did you believe the purse belonged to Kalum?”

“He swore it was his,” said the magistrate anxiously. “And so you

swore falsely?” thundered the Caliph to the merchant, who stood pale

and trembling before him.

“Allah! Allah!” cried he. “Of course I do not wish to say anything

against the Grand Vizier, but the purse is really mine and the

good-for-nothing Said stole it. I would give a thousand gold pieces if

he were here on the spot.”

“What did you do with this Said then?” asked the Caliph. “Where must

we send to bring him here?”

“I sent him to a desert island,” said the magistrate.

“Oh! Said, my son, my son!” cried the unhappy father.

“Then he confessed his crime?” asked the Caliph.

The magistrate turned pale, and said unsteadily, “If I remember

rightly he did in the end.”

“Then you are not quite certain?” the Caliph went on in severe tones.

“Very well, then we will ask him himself. Said, stand forth, and you,

Kalum-Bek, pay me at once a thousand gold pieces because he is here

on the spot.”

Kalum and the magistrate thought it must be a ghost. They fell to

their knees crying, “Mercy, mercy.” Benezar was half fainting with joy

and fell into the arms of his lost son.

Then in firm, hard tones the Caliph asked: “Magistrate, here is Said,

now will you affirm that he confessed his crime?”

“No, no,” howled the magistrate, “I only listened to Kalum’s evidence,

because he is looked upon as a respectable man.”

[Illustration: _Benezar fell into the arms of his lost son._

(P. 325.)]

“Did I appoint you judge that you should only listen to rich people?”

cried Harun with contempt and anger. “I will banish you to a desert

island for ten years, so that you may have time to think on justice.

And you, miserable man, who restored the dying, not for the sake of

saving him, but to make him your slave, you shall pay the thousand

gold pieces.”

Kalum rejoiced to be let off so cheaply and was about to thank the

Caliph, when he went on: “For swearing falsely about the money you

will receive a hundred strokes on the soles of your feet. Further, it

is for Said to decide whether he shall take the whole of your shop and

possessions with you as his slave, or whether he will be satisfied

with ten pieces of gold for every day he served you.”

“Let the miserable old wretch go,” cried the youth, “I wish for

nothing that was his.”

“No,” replied Harun. “I intend you to be compensated. I will choose

for you the ten pieces of gold for every day, and you must reckon how

many days you were in his clutches. And now away with the miserable

creatures!”

When they had been taken away the Caliph led Benezar and Said into

another room; there he told the father of the brave manner in which

his son had saved his life, his recital being interrupted by the yells

of Kalum, whose hundred gold pieces were being counted out on the

soles of his feet.

The Caliph invited Benezar, together with Said, to live with him in

Bagdad. He agreed, but made one journey home in order that he might

fetch his large fortune. Said took up his residence at once in the

palace built for him by the grateful Caliph, and lived there like a

prince. The Caliph’s brother and the Grand Vizier’s son were his

constant companions, and it became a password in Bagdad: “I wish I

were as good and happy as Said, the son of Benezar.”

THE CAVERN OF STEENFOLL.

A SCOTTISH LEGEND.

Many years ago two fishermen lived happily together upon one of the

rocky islands off the Scottish coast. They were both unmarried and had

no near relations, and their united efforts, although they were of

very different dispositions, sufficed to provide them with all they

needed. They were much of an age, but in appearance and character they

resembled each other about as much as an eagle resembles a calf.

[Illustration: _One big wave washed up a ball of pure gold._

(P. 329.)]

Caspar Stump was a short fat man with a broad fat face like a full

moon, and good-tempered twinkling eyes, which seemed as though they

were strangers to trouble and care.

Not only was he very fat, he was also rather lazy, and so the

household duties fell to his share; he had to cook and bake, make the

nets to catch fish and to sell in the market, and help to cultivate

their little field.

His companion was the direct opposite, tall and thin, with bold

features, a hooked nose like a hawk’s, and sharp eyes; he was the

hardest-working and most intrepid of fishermen, the most venturesome

climber after bird’s eggs, which were found in the rocky crevices of

the cliffs, and the most industrious field labourer on the island, as

well as being one of the keenest to drive a bargain in the market of

Kirkwall. But as his wares were good and he always traded honestly,

everyone liked to deal with him, and Will Hawk, as his neighbours

nicknamed him, in spite of his fondness for money, always shared his

profits willingly with Caspar Stump, so that the two of them not only

made a very good living, but were able to put by something for a rainy

day.

But Will Hawk was not content with that, he wanted to be _rich_, _very

rich_, and as he knew that sheer hard work, such as his, rarely

brought in extraordinary wealth, he began to think that he must try

and find out some other means of making money, and taking it for

granted that he would succeed, he discussed the matter freely with

Caspar Stump. Caspar, who accepted everything that Will said as Gospel

truth, told his neighbours of the fortune his companion was about to

make, and so a rumour went abroad that Will Hawk had sold his soul to

the evil one.

At first Will laughed at these reports, but gradually he began to

wish that some spirit would appear and tell him where he might

discover buried treasure, and he ceased to contradict the neighbours

when they joked him about it. It is true he still continued to carry

on his ordinary occupation, but with less zeal, and often wasted the

time when he should have been fishing in idle wanderings after

adventures which he hoped would make him rich. Unfortunately for him

as he was one day standing on the sea-shore gazing out to sea, as

though he expected the waves rolling in to bring a fortune to his

feet, one big wave washed up a quantity of shingle and lose sea-weed,

and amongst the sea-weed a yellow ball, a ball of pure gold.

Will stood as though enchanted; his hopes of untold wealth had not

been empty dreams, the sea had given him gold, pure shining gold,

which the action of the sea had worn down, probably from a large bar,

to a ball the size of a bullet.

It seemed quite clear to him now that at some time a richly-laden

vessel must have gone to pieces on the rocks, and that it was for him

to find and raise the buried treasures, hidden beneath the waves. From

this time he devoted all his energies to the task, carefully hiding

his find from all, even from his friend. He neglected everything else

and spent days and nights on the sea-shore, not casting out fishing

nets, but using a drag which he had made on purpose to haul in

treasure.

His only reward was poverty, for he had ceased to make money himself

and Caspar’s sleepy efforts did not bring in enough to feed the two of

them. In searching for riches all the little fortune they possessed

was lost. But just as easy-going Caspar had once allowed Will Hawk to

provide the money for his maintenance, so he now accepted poverty

without complaint, and it was this silent endurance on the part of his

friend that spurred Will on to further efforts to amass wealth.

But what made him still more intent on continuing the search was that,

whenever he lay down to sleep, it seemed to him that someone whispered

a word in his ear. It was always the same, but he never could remember

it when he was awake. It is true that there seemed no connection

between this circumstance and his present quest, but on a mind like

Will’s everything seemed to make an impression, and even this

mysterious whispering strengthened him in the belief that he was

destined for a great piece of good fortune and that he would one day

find a large heap of gold.

One day he was surprised by a storm whilst on the shore where he had

found the ball of gold, and the violence of it caused him to take

shelter in a neighbouring cave. This cave, which the people called the

Cavern of Steenfoll, consisted of a long subterranean passage with two

openings to the sea, which afforded the waves free passage to and fro,

and there they roared and foamed as they rushed along it.

The cave was only accessible in one spot from the land, and that

through a crevice in the roof, but it was seldom that any but reckless

boys ventured there, for, in addition to the dangers of the place it

was supposed to be haunted.

With great difficulty Will succeeded in letting himself down and took

his seat upon a jutting rock about twelve feet from the surface. Here,

with the waves roaring beneath his feet and the storm raging above his

head, he fell into his usual way of thinking about the sunken ship and

what sort of a vessel it could have been, for, in spite of having

questioned all the oldest inhabitants on the island, he had been

unable to obtain any news of a wreck in that place.

How long he had sat there he did not know himself, but when he at

length awoke from his dreams he found that the storm had passed over,

and he was just about to climb out of the cave when he heard a voice

from the depths which pronounced the word “Carmil-han” quite

distinctly.

[Illustration: _Will heard a voice from the depths._ (P. 331.)]

“Why,” cried he, “that is the word I have heard so often in my dreams.

What can it mean?”

Terrified, he began to climb quickly upwards when, just as he was

creeping out of the crevice, he heard once more, “Carmilhan,” softly

whispered from the depths. Then he fled like a frightened deer to his

home.

Will was, however, no coward, he had merely been taken unawares;

besides that, his craze for gold was too strong in him for the

appearance of danger to frighten him from the path he had entered

upon. One moonlight night as he was using his drag in his search for

treasures near the Cavern of Steenfoll, it caught fast in something.

He pulled with all his strength, but could not move it. In the

meantime the wind had risen, dark clouds drifted across the sky, the

boat rocked violently and threatened to overturn, but Will would not

give in, he tugged and pulled until at length the resistance ceased,

and as he felt no weight he thought the cords of the net must have

broken. But just as the clouds were about to cover the moon a round

black mass rose to the surface and once more he heard the word

“Carmilhan” whispered. He would have seized it, but as he was about to

stretch out his arm it disappeared in the darkness of the night and

the storm broke, forcing him to seek shelter beneath the rocks. Here

he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, but only to endure the same

restless misery that he endured by day, owing to his everlasting

longing for wealth.

The first rays of the rising sun illumined the surface of the water

when Will awoke. He was about to set out upon his accustomed work when

he saw something approaching him from a distance; he recognised it to

be a boat with a man in it, but what aroused his curiosity was that

the boat was moving along without the assistance of either sails or

rudder and the bows were turned to the shore.

[Illustration: _THE CAVERN OF STEENFOLL._

_“I came to look for the Carmilhan,” he said_

_p. 335._]

The boat came nearer and nearer and stopped at length beside Will’s

boat, and Will could see that the person in it was a little wizened

old man, dressed in yellow linen with a red pointed night-cap on

his head, his eyes were closed and he looked as though he were dead.

Will called to him several times without obtaining an answer, and was

about to fasten a cord to the boat in order to tow it along when the

man opened his eyes and writhed about in a fashion that filled even

the hardy fisherman with horror.

“Where am I?” he asked with a deep sigh, speaking in Dutch, and Will,

who had learnt a few words of that language from the Dutch herring

fishers, told him the name of the island, and asked him who he was and

what had brought him there.

“I came to look for the Carmilhan,” he said.

“What _is_ the Carmilhan?” cried the fisherman eagerly.

“The Carmilhan does not exist any longer,” the man said, “but it was

once a fine ship, heavily laden with gold.”

“When was it wrecked, and where?”

“It happened more than a hundred years ago, I am not quite certain

where. I have come to find the place and to fish up the lost gold; if

you will help me we will divide whatever we find.”

“I agree with all my heart, but what must I do?” asked Will.

“What you have to do requires courage; you must go to the wildest and

most deserted portion of the island at midnight, take a cow with you,

kill it, and get some one to wind you up in its skin. Your companion

must then lay you down on the ground and leave you, and before the

clock strikes one o’clock you will know where the treasures of the

Carmilhan lie.”

“But that was how old Engrol was lost, soul and body,” cried Will in

terror; “you are without doubt the evil one and I will have nothing to

do with you,” and he rowed hastily away.

The little man ground his teeth with rage and abused him roundly, but

the fisherman bent to his oars and was soon out of hearing, and after

he had turned and rounded a rock he was out of sight also. But the

knowledge that the evil spirit had endeavoured to make use of his

avarice in order to lure him into his toils with gold did not cure the

infatuated fisherman; on the contrary he intended to make use of the

information he had obtained from the little man, without getting into

his clutches, and so he continued to fish all around that barren coast

for gold, neglecting the wealth of fish he might have obtained in

other parts of the sea, in the same way that he neglected all his

other work, so that day by day he and his companion sank into deeper

poverty, until at length they wanted for the necessities of life.

But although this state of things was entirely owing to Will Hawk’s

obstinacy and greed and that the support of both of them fell to

Caspar Stump alone, the latter never made him the slightest reproach,

but showed him the same deference, the same confidence in his better

judgment as in the days when all his undertakings were successful.

This increased Will’s troubles considerably, but drove him still more

to seek for money, because he hoped to repay his friend for his

present deprivations.

The whispered word “Carmilhan” resounded ever in his slumbers. In

short, want, disappointed expectations and avarice at length drove him

mad, so that he decided to do what the little man had advised,

although he knew from hearsay that he was selling himself to the

powers of darkness.

All Caspar’s representations were in vain. Will became more violent

the more he was besought to give up his intentions. The good-natured,

weak-minded fellow at last gave in and consented to assist him in

carrying out his plans.

Both their hearts were filled with grief as they led out a beautiful

cow, the last of their possessions. They had brought her up from a

calf and had forborne to sell her because they could not bear to trust

her in strange hands. But the evil spirit that had taken possession of

William’s mind stifled all better feeling in him, and Caspar could

resist him in nothing.

It was September and the long nights of the Scottish winter had began

and the dark clouds were racing along before the rough wind and seemed

to lose themselves in the waters of the Clyde, deep shadows filled the

mountain clefts, and the damp turfy marshes and the sullen streams

looked dark and forbidding. Will Hawk went in advance and Caspar

followed, shuddering at his own audacity. Tears filled his dim eyes as

often as he looked at the poor cow which went so trustfully to meet

its death at the hand that had hitherto tended it. They reached at

length the boggy pass, overgrown with moss and heather and strewn with

large stones, and surrounded by a wild chain of mountains that lost

themselves in mist and were seldom crossed by the foot of man. Over

the boggy ground they went until they reached a great stone in the

centre, from which a frightened eagle soared screaming.

The poor cow lowed mournfully as though she recognised the horror of

the place and the fate that awaited her. Caspar turned away to hide

his fast-flowing tears. He looked down the rocky way they had come up

and from whence one could hear the moaning of the sea, and then looked

up towards the mountain tops, hidden by a black cloud from which a

dull murmuring came. When he again looked at Will he had already bound

the poor cow to the stone and stood with axe raised ready to strike.

This was too much for poor Caspar. Wringing his hands, he fell upon

his knees and entreated Will to desist from tempting Providence and to

spare the life of the poor animal.

“Be it as you will,” replied the infatuated man; “but if you have your

way you may as well kill me instead of the cow, for otherwise I shall

surely die of hunger.”

It was in vain for Caspar to reason with him and to protest that in

future he would work hard in order to provide a living for both of

them, Will would not listen; he threw away the axe, but seizing a

knife declared that as Caspar preferred the cow to him he would put an

end to his wretched life.

Poor Caspar seized his hand and, snatching the knife, threw it away,

then taking the axe he struck the cow such a tremendous blow that it

fell dead at its master’s feet.

Caspar, assisted by Will, then hurriedly removed the hide, and Will

allowed his friend to envelope him in it, although he seemed suddenly

to have been stricken with terror at what he was doing.

The thunderstorm had increased in violence, and by the time Will was

firmly fastened into the cow’s hide it was so dark that the two

friends could no longer see each other and bade each other farewell in

total darkness.

Left to himself Will endured an agony of fear and suspense; at length

he would gladly have disentangled himself from the hide and rushed

after Caspar, but he had been too firmly tied up to be able to free

himself.

[Illustration: _Over the boggy ground they went._ (P. 338.)]

The storm continued to increase in fury until at length the waters

rose and almost covered him and he began to think that he would be

drowned, when a sort of waterspout arose and, catching him up, dashed

him to the foot of the rocks with so much force that he became

unconscious.

When he regained his senses he felt bruised and weak. He could hear a

faint sound of singing, which at first he took to be merely the

sighing and moaning of the waves, but as it grew louder he began to

recognise the tune as a hymn which he had heard the fishermen singing

on board a Dutch herring smack.

Nearer and nearer came the sound of the music, and presently to his

surprise he saw a procession of human figures approaching him. Grief

and fear were depicted on their countenances, and their clothes were

all dripping with water.

As they came close up to him the singing ceased; the procession was

led by several musicians, then came a number of sailors, and behind

them walked a big fat man dressed in quaint, old-fashioned garments,

which were richly embroidered with gold threads. He had a sword by his

side and in his hand he carried a long thick Spanish cane with a gold

knob.

A negro boy walked beside him carrying the long pipe from which his

master drew a whiff from time to time. A number of other richly-dressed

men accompanied him, all of them carrying pipes, though not such

handsome ones as that of the stout man. Behind these came a

number of women, all handsomely attired in old-fashioned garments,

some of them carried little children in their arms, and some led

children by the hand.

A crowd of Dutch sailors closed the procession, each of them having a

quid of tobacco in his mouth and a pipe between his teeth, which he

smoked in gloomy silence. As the whole assembly began to close round

Will, the smoke from their pipes grew denser and denser and he felt as

though he were about to be smothered.

He was by nature a courageous man, but a nameless terror now seemed

to seize him, which was increased by the sight of the little yellow

man, who had suddenly appeared and was seated close beside him.

[Illustration: _A negro boy walked beside him, carrying the long

pipe._ (P. 340.)]

He looked exactly as he had done before, except that now, as though to

mock the assembled company, he, too, had a pipe in his mouth.

In an agony of terror Will now turned to the big stout man and cried,

“In the name of him you serve, who are you and what do you want with

me?”

The big man took three whiffs from his pipe in solemn silence, then he

handed his pipe to his servant and replied coldly:

“I am Alfred Franz van der Swelder, captain of the ship Carmilhan

from Amsterdam, which was lost with all hands on this rocky coast on

the return journey from Batavia. These are my officers and passengers,

and those are my brave sailors, all of whom were drowned with me. Why

have you called us from out the depths of the sea? Why do you disturb

our rest?”

“I wish to know where the treasures of the Carmilhan lie hidden.”

“At the bottom of the sea.”

“Where?”

“In the Cavern of Steenfoll.”

“How can I reach them?”

“A goose will dive after a herring, are not the treasures of the

Carmilhan worth much more?”

“How much shall I succeed in obtaining?”

“More than you will ever be able to spend.”

The little yellow man grinned and the whole assembly burst out

laughing.

“Have you finished your questioning?” asked the captain.

“I have, farewell!” replied Will.

“Farewell, until we meet again,” answered the Dutchman, and turned to

go.

The musicians again led the procession, and they turned to depart in

the same order in which they had come, singing the same solemn chant,

which faded away in the distance until at length it became lost in the

sound of the waves beating upon the shore.

Will now exerted all his strength to free himself from the hide that

wrapped him round so tightly. He succeeded at last in freeing one arm

and then commenced to loosen the cords that fastened him into the

hide, until he had untied all the knots and rolled out of the hide.

Without losing a moment he hastened home, where he found poor Caspar

lying unconscious upon the floor of the hut. Having restored him to

his senses with some trouble the good fellow wept tears of joy to see

once again the friend of his youth, whom he believed to have lost for

ever. But his joy was soon quenched when Will told him of the

desperate undertaking he had now on hand.

“I could no longer endure the misery of this wretched place,” he said,

“now that it is within my power to attain riches for us both. Follow

me or not, as you will.”

[Illustration: _He brought to the surface an iron chest full of

gold pieces._ (P. 344.)]

With these words Will took up a torch, a flint and steel, and a rope

and hastened away. Caspar followed as quickly as he could and found

his friend standing by the crevice in the rock leading to the Cavern

of Steenfoll. He was making ready to lower himself by the rope into

the black depths below.

Finding that all his entreaties to desist availed nothing, Caspar

prepared to descend with his friend, but Will bade him remain where

he was and hold the rope. With fearful exertions, which only the

blindest avarice could have driven him to make, he succeeded in

climbing down into the cavern until he reached a portion of projecting

rock beneath which the black waves dashed to and fro, crested with

white foam. He gazed eagerly into the water and saw something gleaming

in the depths. Laying aside his torch, he dived beneath the waves and

seized a heavy object, which he brought up to the surface. It was an

iron chest full of gold pieces. He told his companion what he had

found, but paid no attention to his entreaties to be content with what

he had and to re-ascend. Will thought he had but obtained the first

fruits of his labours and dived again. A mocking laugh arose from the

depths of the sea, and the diver rose no more.

Such was the end of Will Hawk. Caspar went home a changed man. The

terrible experiences he had undergone were too much for his weak head

and sensitive heart and unsettled his mind. He allowed everything

belonging to him to go to rack and ruin, and wandered about day and

night, staring before him with unseeing eyes, and pitied but avoided

by all.

A fisherman is said to have seen and recognised Will Hawk, one stormy

night, amongst the crew of the Carmilhan, close to the shore, and on

the same night Caspar Stump disappeared and was never seen again,

although he was sought for in every direction.

Folks aver, however, that from that time forward the crew of the

Carmilhan appear at certain times in the Cavern of Steenfoll and that

both Will Hawk and Caspar Stump are seen with them.

_Printed in Bavaria._

Transcriber’s Note

The presence or absence of page numbers in illustration captions are

all as printed.

Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.

Hyphenation has been made consistent.

Typographic errors have been corrected as follows:

Page 16--repeated ‘and’ deleted--... towards the east and say ...

Page 63--Madame amended to Madam (for consistency with other

occurrences)--... and entered the service of Madam Ahavzi.

Page 84--end amended to and--... they could not reduce the size

of the noses and ears ...

Page 108--call amended to all--... they all set upon Labakan and

beat him soundly ...

Page 111--be amended to the--... and had a knack of setting out

her wares to the best advantage.

Page 128--und amended to and--... his nose was enormous and

reached beyond his chin, ...

Page 151--whith amended to with--... a heart beating loudly with

excitement.

Page 171--see amended to seen--... he remembered where he had

last seen him.

Page 220--belieuve amended to believe--... and one could

scarcely believe it possible for there to be such a giant.

Page 225--bream amended to beam--... but a single board or

beam ...

Page 233--repeated ‘and’ deleted--Your father and grandfather

before you ...

Page 256--proverty amended to poverty--... for he supposed that

all his poverty and anxious striving ...

Page 257--be amended to he--“What did you bring with you,” he

cried, ...

Page 261--low amended to law--I trust you will not give me up to

the hand of the law ...

Page 272--repeated ‘the’ deleted--... his past life had been

even as the terrible thunderstorm ...

Page 280--or amended to for--... as your mother wished, for you

are a good, sensible young fellow, ...

Page 283--gashed amended to dashed--... they were a body of men

armed with lances who dashed forward with incredible swiftness

...

Page 307--expect amended to expert--... had been an arrow from

the bow of an expert archer.

Page 329--wich amended to which--... but using a drag which he

had made on purpose ...

The frontispiece has been moved to follow the title page. Other

illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in

the middle of a paragraph.