Dalla’s advice was approved of. The doctor entered the cabinet and got into one of the three coffers, which Arouya herself double-locked, saying to Danischmend: ‘Oh, my dear doctor! do not get impatient. As soon as my brother and my husband have retired I shall come and rejoin you, and we will pass the rest of the night together, all the more agreeably that our feast has been inter­rupted.’

The promise which Arouya made the doctor to come and take him out of his prison, and the hope she gave him of compensating him for the weary minutes he was to spend in the coffer, prevented his being troubled by an adventure which was to have still more disagreeable consequences for him. Instead of suspecting the sincerity of the lady and imagining that the position he was in might be a trap set for him, he preferred to persuade himself that he was loved, and to yield to the sweetest illusions in which lovers ordinarily indulge who flatter themselves in vain that they are about to find their affection returned.

The young woman left him in her cabinet and returned to her room, saying quite low to her slave: ‘There is one already caught in my net. We shall see whether the others escape.’

‘That we shall soon know,’ replied Dalla; ‘for it is nearly eleven o’clock, and I do not think the cadi will fail to appear at the tryst.’

The old slave was right in thinking that the judge would not be less punctual than the doctor. In fact, knocking was heard at Banou’s door before the hour indicated. Dalla ran to open it, and seeing that it was a man she asked his name.

‘I am the cadi,’ he said.

‘Speak low,’ replied the slave, ‘you might wake the Lord Banou. My mistress, who has a great weakness for you, has ordered me to introduce you into her apartment. Have the kindness to follow me. I am going to conduct you thither.’

The judge felt his joy redouble at these words. He followed Dalla, who conducted him to the apartment of the young woman.

‘Oh, my queen!’ he cried, approaching the beautiful Arouya, ‘I see you at length! With what impatience have I awaited this happy moment! Am I permitted,’ he added, throwing himself at her feet, ‘am I permitted to assure you that no happiness is comparable to mine.’

The young woman, raising the cadi, begged him to seat himself on the sofa, and said: ‘My lord, I am very glad you are pleased with me, since you are the man in the world I like the best, or rather the first person who has attracted my attention. This old slave will tell you that. I have simply languished since the last interview I had with you. I speak of you to her unceasingly, and my passion leaves me no rest.’

When the cadi heard Arouya speak thus, he almost lost his senses. ‘Lofty cypress,’ he said, ‘living image of the houris, you enchant me with such sweet words, sweeter than the song of the nightingale to the rose. Your kindness makes me indeed happier than a king.’

‘I am enchanted,’ replied the lady, ‘to see you so loving. That flatters my affection very pleasantly, and your praise gives me too much pleasure for me to refuse to hear it. I have prepared refreshment for you, and I wish to drink with you. But first remove your turban and lie down on this couch; I am going into my husband’s room to see whether the old man is asleep, and I shall return to you immediately.’

The judge at this speech, imagining that he was about to share a delightful feast, promptly obeyed and sat on the couch. He had hardly done so, when he heard a noise. A moment after Arouya came back much agitated, and said to him: ‘Ah! my lord cadi, you do not know what has just happened. We have here an old slave whom I did not wish to confide in, because he was too attached to my husband: he saw you enter the house, and has warned his master, who has imme­diately sent for my relations to witness my conduct.’

‘They will all enter my apartment. I am the most unhappy person in the world.’ Saying these words she began to cry, which she did so effectively that the cadi thought she was much afflicted.

‘Console yourself, my angel,’ he said, ‘you have nothing to fear. I am the judge of the Mussul­mans, and I shall be able by my authority to impose silence on your parents and your husband. I shall menace them all. I shall forbid them to make any disturbance, and you may be persuaded that they will fear my threats.’

‘I do not doubt it, my lord,’ replied the young woman, ‘so I do not fear the resentment of my husband, nor the anger of my relations. I well know that, supported by you, I am protected from punishment; but, alas! I shall pass for an infamous woman, and I shall be exposed to the opprobrium and contempt of my family. What a cause of grief to a woman whose virtue till now has never been the least open to suspicion! What am I saying, suspicion? I venture to say that I am looked upon as the model of a well-behaved woman. At one blow am I to lose such a splendid reputation?’

At these words she began again to weep and lament so naturally that the judge was grieved.

‘O light of my eyes,’ he cried! ‘I am touched at your grief: but cease abandoning yourself to it, since it is futile. What avails it to weep so much for an inevitable misfortune?’

Dalla Monkhtala interrupted the judge at this moment and said: ‘Great cadi of the faithful, and you, beautiful rose of the garden of beauty, listen to me both of you. I have experience, and it is not the first time that I have assisted embarrassed lovers. Whilst you are distressing yourselves I think of the means of getting you out of your predicament, and if my lord the cadi wishes, we will disappoint the lord Banou and my mistress’s relations.’

‘And how?’ said the judge.

‘You have only,’ replied the old slave, ‘to enclose yourself in a certain coffer which is in Arouya’s cabinet. I am sure no one will think of asking for the key.’

‘Ah! very willingly,’ replied the cadi, ‘I con­sent to get into the coffer for a few moments if you think it advisable.’

The young woman said it would please her very much, and assured the judge that the moment after her husband and her relations had visited her apartments and had retired, she would not fail to come and take him out of the coffer.

On this assurance, and on the promise which the merchant’s wife made the cadi to repay with usury his affection for her, he let himself be enclosed like the doctor.

There only remained the governor, who also came at midnight to the door. Dalla introduced him as she had done the two others, and Arouya received him in the same way. She greeted him warmly, and when she saw that the old lord was becoming very joyous she made a sign agreed upon with Dalla, who went out. A minute after loud knocking was heard at the street door, and soon after the old slave entered the apartment pre­cipitately, saying in a terrified manner:

‘Ah! madam, what a misfortune! the cadi has just entered. He is being conducted to your husband’s apartment.’

‘O heaven!’ cried the young woman, ‘what a fatal event! My dear Dalla,’ she continued, ‘go gently and listen what the judge is saying to Banou, and come back and tell us.’

The old slave went out a second time, and whilst she was away the governor said to the lady:

‘What can bring the cadi here at this hour? Has Banou got some troublesome affair on hand?’

‘No,’ replied Arouya, ‘and I am not less astonished than you at the arrival of the judge.’

Dalla shortly afterwards returned, and said to her mistress:

‘Madam, I have lent an attentive ear to the conversation which is going on in the Lord Banou’s apartment, and I have heard enough to know what it is about. The cadi has come here to interrogate you in the presence of Danischmend, who accompanies him. The doctor maintains that he has paid you the sequins which your husband lent him. The grand vizir, who has been informed of this affair, has charged the cadi to investigate it this very night, so as to render him an account of it to-morrow morning.’

Thereupon Arouya had recourse to tears, and begged the governor to hide himself, saying, ‘My lord, I beg of you to have pity on me. The cadi, Banou, and Danischmend are coming here. Spare me the shame of passing as a faithless woman. Have some regard to my weakness for you. Enter my cabinet, and permit me to shut you up in a coffer for a few minutes.’ As the old lord evinced some repugnance to what was proposed to him, the lady threw herself at his feet, and at last succeeded in persuading him.

The governor was therefore placed in the third coffer.

The merchant’s wife closed the cabinet, and went and told her husband all that had passed. After having both rejoiced at the expense of the three unfortunate lovers, Banou said:

‘How do you propose ending this adventure?