‘My lord,’ said Giafar in his turn, ‘the same suspicion crosses my mind, and I would advise the arrest of both of them.’

‘That is what I this moment am resolved on,’ replied Haroun. ‘Take ten thousand cavalry of my guard: march to Bassora. Seize the two guilty persons and bring them to me here. I wish to avenge the death of the most generous of all men.’

Giafar obeyed: he chose ten thousand horse and set out on the march with them.

Let us now return to the son of Abdelaziz and see why the vizir, Aboulfatah, did not find him any longer in the tomb where he had left him. This young man, after a long faint, was beginning to recover his senses, when he felt himself seized by vigorous arms, which drew him from the coffin and placed him on the ground. He thought it was the vizir and his slaves who wished to begin to ill-treat him again.

‘Tyrants,’ he said to them, ‘give me death if you are capable of pity! Spare me tortures which benefit you nothing, since I tell you again that your torments will never tear my secret from me!’

‘Fear nothing, young man,’ said one of the persons who had drawn him from his coffin; ‘instead of coming to ill-treat you, we come to your help.’

At these words Aboulcasem opened his eyes, looked at his liberators, and recognised among them the young lady to whom he had shown his treasure.

‘Ah! madam,’ he said, ‘is it you to whom I owe my life?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ replied Balkis, ‘it is to me and to the Prince Aly, my lover, whom you see here Informed of all your generosity, he has wished to share with me the pleasure of delivering you from death.’

‘It is true,’ said the Prince Aly, ‘and I would a thousand times expose my life rather than let so generous a man perish.’

The son of Abdelaziz, having entirely recovered his senses with the aid of some drink given to him, thanked the lady and Prince Aly in proportion to the service rendered, and asked them how they had known that he still lived.

‘My lord,’ said Balkis, ‘I am the daughter of the vizir Aboulfatah. I have not been duped by the false rumour of your death. I suspected my father of all he has done, and I have won over one of his slaves who has told me everything. This slave is one of the two who were here with him, and as he was entrusted with the key of the tomb, he confided it to me. I then had the Prince Aly informed immediately, and he hastened to join me, with some of his most faithful domestics. We came with all speed, and we thank Heaven for not having arrived too late.’

‘O God,’ said Aboulcasem, ‘can so cowardly and cruel a father have so generous a daughter?’

‘Come, my lord,’ said the Prince Aly, ‘let us lose no time. I do not doubt but that the vizir, not finding you any longer in the tomb to-morrow, will have you searched for with great care; but I am going to conduct you to my house. You will be in safety there. They will never suspect me of having given you a refuge.’

They covered Aboulcasem with a slave’s robe, after which they all left the tomb, leaving it open, and took the road to the town. Balkis returned home and gave back the key of the tomb to the slave, and the Prince Aly took the son of Abdelaziz to his house and kept him so well hidden that his enemies could learn no news of him.

Aboulcasem remained in the house of the Prince Aly, who treated him well in every way, until the king and the vizir, despairing of finding him, ceased searching for him.

Then the Prince Aly gave him a very fine horse, loaded him with sequins and precious stones, and said to him, ‘You can now escape. The roads are open to you. Your enemies do not know what has become of you. Go where you wish.’

The son of Abdelaziz thanked the generous prince for his kindness, and assured him that he would be eternally grateful to him. Prince Aly embraced him, saw him depart, and prayed Heaven to guide him. Aboulcasem took the road to Bagdad and arrived there happily after several days’ march.

When he had arrived in this town, the first thing he did was to go to the place where the merchants assemble.

The hope of seeing him whom he had enter­tained at Bassora, and relating to him his misfor­tune, was his only consolation. He was mortified at not finding him. He went all over the town, and sought his features in the faces of all the men he met. Feeling tired, he arrived before the caliph’s palace. The little page whom he had given to the caliph was then at a window, and the child, having by chance cast his eyes upon him, recog­nised him. He ran immediately to the caliph’s apartment.

‘My lord,’ he said to him, ‘I have just seen my former master at Bassora.’

Haroun placed no faith in what he said.

‘You are mistaken,’ he replied. ‘Aboulcasem lives no more. Led away by some resemblance, you must have taken another for him.’

‘No, no! Commander of the Faithful,’ replied the page, ‘I am sure it is he. I recognised him at once.’

Although the caliph did not believe this news, he nevertheless wished to examine if it were true. He sent immediately one of his officers with the page, to see if the man in question were really the son of Abdelaziz.

They found him still in the same place, for, thinking that he had recognised the little page, he waited for the child to reappear at the window.

When the page was convinced that he was not mistaken, he threw himself at the feet of Aboul­casem, who lifted him up, and asked him if he had the honour to belong to the caliph.

‘Yes, my lord,’ replied the child; ‘it is the Commander of the Faithful himself whom you have received at Bassora, and it is to him you have given me. Come with me, my lord, the caliph will be very pleased to see you.’

At this speech the surprise of the young man of Bassora was extreme. He let himself be led into the palace by the page and the officer, and he was soon introduced into the apartment of Haroun. The prince was seated on his sofa. He felt extraordinarily moved on seeing Aboulcasem. He rose eagerly, went towards the young man and held him in a long embrace without being able to say a word, so transported was he with joy.

When he had recovered a little from the extreme emotions which this adventure had caused him, he said to the son of Abdelaziz: ‘O young man, open your eyes and recognise your happy guest. It is I whom you have received so well, and to whom you have made presents unequalled by those of kings.’

At these words, Aboulcasem, who was not less troubled than the caliph, whom from respect he had not dared to look at, gazed at him, and recog­nising him, ‘O my sovereign master!’ he cried; ‘O king of the world, is it you who came to your slave’s house?’

Thus saying, he threw himself face downwards on the ground at the feet of the caliph, who lifted him up and made him seat himself beside him on the sofa.

‘How is it possible,’ he said, ‘that you are still alive?’

Then Aboulcasem related all the cruelties of Aboulfatah, and the chance by which he had been snatched from the fury of the vizir.

Haroun listened very attentively to him, and said: ‘I am the cause of these last misfortunes of yours. Having returned to Bagdad I wished to begin to acquit myself towards you. I sent a courier to the King of Bassora. I informed him that my intention was that he should remit his crown to you. Instead of executing my orders he resolved to take your life, for you must be convinced that Aboulfatah would soon have caused your death. The hope which he had that torture would soon oblige you to discover your treasure to him alone made him delay your death. But you shall be revenged. Giafar, with a great number of troops, has gone to Bassora. I have ordered him to seize your two persecutors and bring them to me. You will remain in my palace, and you will be waited on there by my officers as though you were myself.’

Saying these words, he took the young man by the hand and led him down into a garden filled with the rarest flowers. In it were several basins of marble, porphyry, and jasper, filled with an infinity of beautiful fish. In the middle of the garden, upon twelve very high columns of black marble, was a dome, the roof of which was of sandal and aloe wood. The intervals between the columns were enclosed by a double golden trellis which formed all round an aviary full of thousands and thousands of canaries of different colours, of nightingales, of warblers, and other harmonious birds, who mingled their voices in a charming concert.

The baths of Haroun-al-Raschid were under this dome. The prince and his guest bathed, after which several officers covered them with the finest linen which had never been used before. Aboulcasem was then reclothed in rich garments. Then the caliph led him into a hall where he made him eat with him. They brought them meats and cates. They served to them Turkish and Arabian pomegranates, Syrian apples, grapes of Meccah and Aleppo, and pears from Ispahan. After they had eaten the meat and fruits and drunk a delicious wine, the caliph conducted Aboulcasem to the apartment of Zobeide.