‘“I am delighted,” said Calé-Cairi, “that your sentiments are so delicate. The princess deserves them. Although passionately beloved by the King of Candahar, she has not been able to forget you; and never was such joy as hers yesterday when Schapour told her he had met you. She was beside herself the rest of the day; she imme­diately ordered her eunuch to hire a furnished house, to conduct you thither to-day, and not to let you want for anything there.

‘“I come from her to explain everything that I have told you, and to prepare you to see her to-morrow during the night. We shall leave the palace and come here by a little door in the garden, of which we have had a key made to use when we wish.” Saying these words, the favourite slave of the Princess of Persia rose and went out, accompanied by Schapour, to return to her mistress.

‘I did nothing during the night but think of Zelica, for whom I felt all my love rekindle. Sleep could not close my eyes a moment, and the fol­lowing day seemed to me a century. Finally, after having been the prey to the keenest impatience, I heard knocking at the door of the house.

‘My slaves went to open it, and soon I saw my princess enter my apartment. How her presence moved me! And she, on her side, how overjoyed she was to see me! I threw myself at her feet, I held them in a long embrace, without being able to say a word. She compelled me to rise, and having made me seat myself beside her on the sofa:

‘“Hassan,” she said, “I thank Heaven for having brought us together. Let us hope its kindness will not stop there, and that it will remove the fresh obstacle which prevents our being together. Awaiting that happy time you will live here tran­quilly and in abundance. If we do not have the pleasure of meeting without constraint, we shall at least have the consolation of being able to have news of each other every day, and to see each other secretly sometimes. Calé-Cairi,” she continued, “has related my adventures to you; tell me yours.”

‘I depicted to her the grief the belief in her death had caused me, and I told her that it so saddened me that I became a fakir.

‘“Ah! my dear Hassan,” cried Zelica, “can it be for love of me that you lived so long with such austere people? Alas! I am the cause of your having suffered much.”

‘If she had known the life I had led under this religious habit, she would have pitied me a little less; but I took care not to tell her of it, and only thought of paying my passionate addresses to her. How quickly flew the moments of our interview! Although it lasted three hours, we were angry with Schapour and Calé-Cairi when they warned us we must separate. “Ah! how inconsiderate are the people who do not love,” we said to them. “We have only been together a moment; leave us in peace.” However, had we continued talking much longer, daylight would have surprised us, and shortly afterwards the princess retired.

‘In spite of the agreeable thoughts which occupied me, I did not forget the fakir with whom I had come to Candahar, and representing to myself his uneasiness at not knowing what had become of me, I went out to look for him. I met him by chance in the street. We embraced each other.

‘“My friend,” I said, “I was going to your caravanserai to inform you of what had happened to me, and to set your mind at rest. I have doubtless caused you alarm.”

‘“Yes,” he replied, “I was very troubled about you. But what a change! In what clothes do you appear before me? You seem to me to have encountered good fortune. Whilst uncertainty as to your fate was distressing me, you were apparently passing your time agreeably.”

‘“I admit it,” I replied, “my dear friend. I will confess to you that I am a thousand times happier than you can imagine. I wish you to be a witness of my happiness and to profit by it. Leave your caravanserai and come and lodge with me.”

‘Thus saying I conducted him to my house. I showed him all the apartments; I found them beautiful and well-furnished. Every moment he exclaimed, “O Heaven! what has Hassan done more than others to deserve such favours from you?”

‘“But, fakir,” I said to him, “do you look with chagrin upon the state I am in? My prosperity would seem to afflict you.”

‘“No,” he replied; “on the contrary, I am greatly rejoiced at it. Far from envying the happiness of my friends, I am charmed to see them in a flourishing condition.”

‘Saying these words, he pressed me closely in his arms, to better persuade me that he was speak­ing truly. I thought him sincere, and, acting in good faith with him, I gave myself over unsuspect­ingly to the most cowardly, the most envious, the most perfidious of men.

‘“We must make merry together to-day,” he said.

‘At the same moment I took him by the hand and led him into a hall where my slaves had arranged a table for two.

‘We both seated ourselves. Several dishes of rice of different colours were brought to us, with dates preserved in syrup. We ate of other dishes too, after which I sent one of my slaves to buy wine at a place in the town where he knew it was sold secretly. He brought back some that was excellent, and we drank of it with so little discretion that we should not have dared appear in public. We would not have shown ourselves there with impunity. In the midst of our debauch the fakir said to me, “Tell me, Hassan, the mysterious adventure that has happened to you; you risk nothing, I am discreet, and your very best friend. You cannot doubt me without insulting me. Open yourself to me, then, and make known all your good fortune to me, so that we may rejoice at it together. Moreover I flatter myself that I am a good coun­sellor, and you know that such a character is not worthless.”

‘Heated by the wine I had drunk, and deceived by the evidence of friendship which he gave me, I yielded to his entreaties. “I am sure,” I said, “you are not capable of abusing the confidence which I am going to place in you, so I wish to conceal nothing from you. When I met you do you remember that I was very sad? I had just lost at Shiraz a lady whom I loved and by whom I was beloved. I believed her dead, and yet she is still alive. I have found her again at Candahar, and to tell you the truth she is the favourite of the King Firouzshah.”

‘The fakir exhibited extreme astonishment at this speech. “Hassan,” he said, “you give me a charming impression of this lady; she must be marvellously endowed with beauty since the King of Candahar is enamoured of her.”

‘“She is an incomparable person,” I replied. “However advantageously a lover may depict her to you, he could not make a flattering portrait of her. She will not fail to come here soon; you will see her. I wish you to judge of her charms with your own eyes.”

‘At these words the fakir embraced me with fervour, saying I should give him much pleasure if I fulfilled my promise. I gave him renewed assurances, after which we both rose from table to go to rest. One of my slaves led my friend into a room where they had prepared a bed for him.

‘The next morning Schapour brought me a note from Zelica. She informed me she would come the next night to feast with me. I showed the letter to the fakir, who was infinitely delighted at it. He did nothing during the day but talk of the lady whose beauty I had praised to him, and he awaited the night with as much impatience as if he had had the same reasons as I to wish for her arrival. I made preparations to receive Zelica. I sent for the best dishes, and for some of the excellent wine we had tested so well the day before.

‘When night had come I said to the fakir, “When the lady enters my apartment you must not be here. She might think it indiscreet. Let me go and ask her for permission to present you to her as my friend. I am sure I shall obtain it.”

‘We soon heard knocking at the door; it was the princess. The fakir hid himself in a cabinet; I went to meet Zelica. I gave her my hand, and, having conducted her to my apartment, “My princess,” I said, “I beg you to grant me a favour. The fakir with whom I came to Candahar is lodged in this house. I have given him an apartment; he is my friend. Will you allow him to join us?”

‘“Hassan,” she replied, “you do not think what you are asking of me. Instead of exposing me to a man’s glances you should take care to shield me from them.”

‘“Madam,” I cried, “he is a prudent and discreet fellow, whose friendship I can rely upon. I will guarantee that you will have no occasion to regret having given me the satisfaction which I ask of you.”

‘“I can refuse you nothing,” replied Zelica, “but I have a presentiment we shall regret it.”