"I must have this!" she said. " What do you ask for it?" [See page 31. 
 
LABOULAYE'S 
 FAIRY BOOK 
 
 FAIRY TALES OF ALL NATIONS. 
 
 BY EDOUARD LABOULAYE, 
 
 MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY MARY L. BOOTH, 
 
 Translator of "Martin's History of France," &c., &c 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and 
 sixty-six, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York 
 
11 
 
 7 
 
 TO MADEMOISELLE 
 GABRIELLE DE LABOULAYE. 
 
 MY DEAR GRANDDAUGHTER : 
 You are now two years old, and no longer 
 a child. You will soon begin to learn your 
 letters, and to enter upon that rude task of 
 education which will last all your life. Per- 
 mit your grandfather to offer you this book, 
 full of beautiful pictures, which will amuse 
 your curious eyes. You will wish to know 
 what they mean ; for this, you must read 
 them, as I expect that you will do. May 
 my little heroes charm you with their sto- 
 ries, and spare you useless tears ! 
 Some day, doubtless, when you are a tall girl of fifteen, you 
 will throw aside this book with your doll, and perhaps even 
 wonder how your grandfather, with his gray beard, could have 
 
 248955 
 
vi Dedication. 
 
 had so little sense as to waste his time on such trifles. Be 
 not too severe, my dear Gabrielle ; grant me five or six years' 
 indulgence. If God spares your life, you, too, will have chil- 
 dren, and grandchildren perhaps ; and experience will teach 
 you only too quickly that the truest and sweetest things in 
 life are not those which we see, but those of which we dream. 
 Then, in repeating my tales to the young folks whom I shall 
 never see, you will remember him who loved you when you 
 were little ; and perhaps you will find pleasure in talking to 
 them of the old man who delighted in trying to amuse children, 
 while they will listen with sparkling eyes, and be proud of their 
 great-grandfather. I desire no other fame ; this immortality 
 suffices me. 
 
 With these words, I respectfully lay at your feet my Fairy 
 Book, and subscribe myself, with a hearty kiss, 
 
 YOUR OLD GRANDFATHER. 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 TO MY YOUNG FRIENDS IN AMERICA: 
 
 DEAR CHILDREN, When you are large, and are studying 
 the glorious history of your country, you will be told that 
 on the other side of the Atlantic there is an old country by 
 the name of France. You will also be told that almost a 
 hundred years ago, when your grandfathers were fighting for 
 their independence, it was in France that they found sympa- 
 thizing hearts and devoted hands. It was from France that 
 the friend of Washington came, the brave and noble La Fay- 
 ette a name which also belongs to the history of the United 
 States. 
 
 Years have passed, and nothing has disturbed the friend- 
 ship of a century's growth between America and France 
 that friendship which you, my children, I am sure, will pre- 
 serve. And it is in order to keep up this mutual affection 
 that I send you these tales, which have amused your young 
 friends in France, and which I hope will amuse you also. 
 He who writes them is not a stranger to your fathers and 
 mothers ; he was heart and soul with them in the trials which 
 they have nobly passed through. To-day he would esteem 
 himself happy could he make you laugh or dry up your tears ; 
 and nothing would touch him more than sometimes to think 
 that over yonder, on the other side of the ocean, there were 
 young gentlemen and charming young ladies who forgot the 
 hours in listening to the tales of their friend, the old French- 
 man, 
 
 EDOUARD LABOULAYE. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 PROMPTED in part by the desire to please a certain Prince 
 Charming of my acquaintance, I have amused the leisure of 
 an arduous undertaking by collecting the exquisite tales 
 which M. Laboulaye has been in the habit for some years 
 past of scattering through various books and journals, and 
 which can not fail to delight both young and old by their 
 sparkling wit and richness of fancy. The brilliant author of 
 " Paris in America" needs no introduction to American read- 
 ers. One of the first humorists, as well as one of the first ju- 
 dicial writers of France, it is his favorite recreation to amuse 
 children with tales wherein the grotesque veils a keen and 
 subtle satire rarely equaled. The style is inimitable, and the 
 fancies are not surpassed even by those of the famed Hans 
 Christian Andersen. 
 
 The selection now offered to the American public was first 
 submitted to the approval of the author, who has kindly signi- 
 fied his full approbation of it, and furnished a preface written 
 expressly for this edition. " The composition of the volume is 
 excellent," he says, " and I shall take great pleasure in seeing 
 myself in an American dress. I am especially delighted that 
 Abdallah finds a place in the collection. This little volume 
 cost me more than a year's study. There is not a detail in it 
 that is not borrowed from some narrative of Eastern travel, 
 and I read the Koran through twice (a wearisome task) in or- 
 der to extract therefrom a morality that might put Christians 
 
 A 2 
 
x Translators Preface. 
 
 to the blush, though practiced by Arabs. My granddaughter, 
 who is now five years old, and is going to learn English, is 
 very proud to think that her name will be knowr^in Amer- 
 ica." 
 
 The dedication to Mademoiselle Gabrielle de Laboulaye, 
 the author's granddaughter, here alluded to, is that prefixed 
 to the Contes Bleus, an elegant volume published some three 
 years since, and from which several of these tales are taken. 
 It was at first designed to omit Abdallah, which forms a sep- 
 arate volume in the original. I am happy to have been able 
 to embrace this beautiful story of Oriental life in the volume 
 which I offer to the perusal of my young American friends, 
 persuaded that the name of the illustrious author will thereby 
 become a household word among them, as it is already among 
 their parents, and as it will be in history. 
 
 MARY L. BOOTH. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PERLINO *3 
 
 WON AND FINETTE 45 
 
 THE CASTLE OF LIFE 8l 
 
 DESTINY IQ 8 
 
 THE TWELVE MONTHS IJ 4 
 
 SSWANDA, THE PIPER !22 
 
 THE GOLD BREAD !27 
 
 THE STORY OF THE NOSES 133 
 
 THE THREE CITRONS 13^ 
 
 THE STORY OF COQUERICO 157 
 
 KING BIZARRE AND PRINCE CHARMING 164 
 
 ABDALLAH . 2o8 
 
FAIRY BOOK. 
 
 P E RL IN O. 
 
 A NEAPOLITAN TALE. 
 
 I. 
 
 VIOLET. 
 
 MANY years ago there lived at Passtum a merchant by the 
 name of Beppo, who was as good as bread, as sweet as honey, 
 and as rich as the sea. He was a widower, and had but one 
 daughter, whom he loved like his right hand. Violet, for that 
 was the name of this beloved child, was as fair as a lily, and 
 as blooming as a rose. She had long black tresses, eyes as 
 blue as the sky, cheeks as velvety as a butterfly's wing, and 
 lips like a twin cherry. Add to this the wit of a demon, the 
 grace of a seraph, the figure of Venus, and the fingers of a 
 fairy, and you will understand that neither young nor old could 
 help loving her at first sight. 
 
 When Violet was fifteen years old, Beppo began to think 
 about marrying her. " The orange-tree," thought he, " brings 
 forth its flower without knowing who will gather it, and the 
 father watches over his daughter for long years like the apple 
 of his eye, only that a stranger may rob him of his treasure 
 some fine day without even saying " thank you." Where shall 
 
14 v "KSbfy ' Book. 
 
 'I find a husband worthy of my Violet ? No matter, she is rich 
 enough to choose whom she likes. She is so beautiful and 
 witty that she would tame a tiger should she undertake it." 
 
 The good Beppo often tried to talk to his daughter of mar- 
 riage, but he might as well have flung his words to the wind. 
 No sooner had he touched this chord than Violet cast down 
 her eyes and complained of headache ; upon which her poor 
 father, more troubled than a monk that loses his memory in the 
 midst of his sermon, directly changed the conversation, and 
 took from his pocket some gift that he always had in store 
 a ring, a bracelet, or a gold thimble, whereupon Violet kissed 
 him, and the sun returned after the shower. 
 
 One day, however, when Beppo, more prudent than usual, 
 had begun where he generally ended, and Violet held in her 
 hands a necklace so beautiful that it was impossible for her 
 to be sulky, the good man returned to the attack. " Oh, love 
 and joy of my heart, staff of my old age, and crown of my gray 
 hairs !" said he, caressing her, " shall I never see you married ? 
 Do you not feel that I am growing old ? My gray beard tells 
 me every day that it is time to choose you a protector. Why 
 don't you do like other women ? do you not see that they are 
 all dying to marry ? What is a husband ? a bird in a cage, 
 that sings whatever tune you please. If your poor mother 
 was living, she would tell you that she never shed tears on ac- 
 count of not having her way ; she was always queen and em- 
 press at home. I dared not breathe before her any more than 
 before you, and I can not console myself for my freedom." 
 
 " Father," said Violet, playfully chucking him under the 
 chin, " you are the master, and it is for you to command. Dis- 
 pose of my hand make your own choice. I will marry when 
 you like and whom you like ; I only ask one thing." 
 
 " Be it what it may, I will grant it," cried Beppo, charmed 
 at an obedience to which he was not accustomed. 
 
Per lino. 1 5 
 
 " Well, father, all that I desire is that my husband shall not 
 look like a dog." 
 
 " What a childish idea !" exclaimed Beppo, radiant with joy. 
 " Men are right in saying that beauty and folly go together. 
 If you did not resemble your mother, could you be guilty of 
 such absurdities ! Do you believe that a man of sense like 
 me do you believe that the richest merchant in Paestum 
 would be stupid enough to accept a son-in-law with a dog's 
 face ? Be easy ; I will choose for you, or, rather, you shall 
 choose the handsomest and most amiable of men. Were he 
 a prince, I am rich enough to buy him for you." 
 
 A few days after, Beppo gave a great dinner, to which he 
 invited all the flower of the youth for twenty leagues around. 
 The repast was magnificent ; the guests ate much and drank 
 more ; every one was at his ease, and spoke from the fullness 
 of his heart. When dessert was served, Beppo withdrew to a 
 corner of the room, and, taking Violet on his lap, whispered to 
 her, " My dear child, look at that handsome, blue-eyed young 
 man, with his hair parted in the middle ? Do you think that 
 a woman would be unhappy with such a cherub ?" 
 
 " Don't think of it, my dear father !" said Violet, laughing ; 
 "he looks exactly like a greyhound." 
 
 " It is true," cried Beppo, " he really does look like a grey- 
 hound. Where were my eyes that I did not see it ? But that 
 fine-looking captain, with his cropped head, stiff cravat, prom- 
 inent chest, and protruding eyes there is a man ! What do 
 you say to him ?" 
 
 " Father, he looks like a bull-dog ; I should always be afraid 
 that he would bite me." 
 
 " It is true, he does look something like a bull-dog," re- 
 plied Beppo, sighing. " We will say no more about him. Per- 
 haps you would prefer a graver and more mature person. If 
 women knew how to choose, they would never take a husband 
 
1 6 Fairy Book. 
 
 less than forty years old. Under that age, they find nothing 
 but fops who suffer themselves to be adored ; it is not till aft- 
 er forty that a man is really ripe to love and obey. What do 
 you say to that counselor of law, who talks so well, and who 
 likes so well to hear himself talk ? What matters his gray 
 hairs ! gray hair is wiser than black." 
 
 " Father, you are not keeping your word. You see very 
 well that with his red eyes, and his white curls hanging over 
 his ears, he looks like a poodle." 
 
 It was the same with all the guests ; not one escaped Vio- 
 let's tongue. One, who sighed timidly, resembled a Barbary 
 dog ; another, with long black hair and caressing eyes, had 
 the face of a spaniel. No one was spared. It is said, indeed, 
 that every man looks like a dog when you put your hand un- 
 der the nose, hiding the mouth and chin. 
 
 " Violet has too much wit," thought Beppo ; " I shall never 
 do any thing with her by reasoning." Upon this, he pretend- 
 ed to fall into a rage, called her ungrateful, hard-hearted, and 
 foolish, and ended by threatening to put her into a convent 
 for the rest of her days. Violet began to cry ; he fell upon 
 his knees, asked her pardon, and promised never more to 
 speak to her of any thing that she did not like. The next 
 morning he rose, after passing a sleepless night, kissed his 
 daughter, thanked her for not having swollen eyes, and waited 
 for the wind that turns the weathercocks to blow toward his 
 house. This time he was not wrong. With women more 
 things happen in an hour than with men in ten years ; and 
 the saying, " I will never travel this road," was not made* for 
 them. 
 
Per lino. 1 7 
 
 II. 
 
 BIRTH AND BETROTHAL OF PERLINO. 
 
 ONE day, when there was a festival in the suburbs of the 
 town, Beppo asked his daughter what he should bring her. 
 
 " Father," said she, " if you love me, buy me half a ton of 
 white sugar, and the same quantity of blanched almonds, five 
 or six bottles of scented water, a little musk and amber, forty 
 pearls, two sapphires, and a handful of garnets and rubies ; 
 bring me also twenty skeins of gold thread, ten yards of green 
 velvet, and a piece of cherry -colored silk; and, above all 
 things, don't forget a silver trough and trowel." 
 
 The merchant was greatly astonished ; but he had been too 
 good a husband not to know that with women the shortest 
 way is not to reason, but to obey, and he returned home at 
 night with his mule heavily laden. 
 
 Violet ordered all her gifts to be carried to her chamber ; 
 then shut herself up, and set about making a paste with the 
 sugar and almonds, which she moistened with the rose and 
 jasmine water. She kneaded the paste in the trough, and 
 moulded it with her silver trowel, like a potter or a sculptor, 
 into the most beautiful young man that ever was seen. She 
 made his hair of the gold thread, his eyes of the sapphires, 
 his teeth of the pearls, and his tongue and lips of the garnets 
 and rubies ; after which she dressed him in the silk and vel- 
 vet, and christened him Perlino, because he was as fair and 
 rosy as the mother-of-pearl. 
 
 When she had finished her masterpiece, and stood it on the 
 table, Violet clapped her hands, and began to dance about 
 Perlino. She sang him the most tender airs, addressed to 
 him the sweetest words, and blew him kisses that would have 
 
1 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 warmed a heart of stone, but all in vain the doll did not stir. 
 Violet was beginning to cry for spite, when all at once she 
 recollected that she had a fairy for a godmother. What god- 
 mother, above all when she is a fairy, ever rejects the first 
 prayer of her godchild ? Violet prayed so long and earnestly 
 that her godmother heard her two hundred leagues off, and 
 took pity on her. She blew with her lips it is all that fairies 
 need to do to work a miracle when lo ! Perlino opened first 
 one eye and then the other, turned his head to the right and 
 left, and yawned in the most natural manner imaginable ; then, 
 while Violet wept and laughed for joy, he began to walk slow- 
 ly, and with mincing steps, across the table. 
 
 More delighted than if she had won the kingdom of France 
 in a lottery, Violet caught Perlino in her arms, kissed him on 
 both cheeks, and sang, 
 
 " Perlino, my darling, my treasure, my pride, 
 Now let us dance, and I'll be thy bride ; 
 Now let us dance, now let us sing, 
 I will be queen, thou shalt be king. 
 Now we are both in the spring-time of life, 
 Light of my eyes, I'll be thy wife, 
 
 To dance and to play 
 
 Through the long day ; 
 This will be life, joyous and gay ; 
 And if my wish thou dost ever obey, 
 
 The gods will not be 
 
 More happy than we." 
 
 Beppo, who was taking an account of his goods for the sec- 
 ond time, dissatisfied at having made only a million of dol- 
 lars in a year, heard the noise overhead. " Upon my word," 
 he exclaimed, " there is something strange up stairs ; it sounds 
 as if some one were quarreling." 
 
 He mounted the stairs, and, pushing open the door, saw the 
 most beautiful sight in the world. Opposite his daughter, 
 flushed with pleasure, stood Cupid in person Cupid, dressed 
 
Perlino. 1 9 
 
 in silk and velvet. With both hands clasped in those of his 
 little mistress, Perlino was skipping and dancing, as if he were 
 never to stop. 
 
 As soon as Violet perceived her father, she made a low 
 bow, and, presenting to him her beloved, said, " My lord and 
 
2O Fairy Book. 
 
 father, you wish to see me married. To obey and please you, 
 I have chosen a husband according to my own heart." 
 
 " You have done well, my child," replied Beppo, who read 
 the mystery ; " all women ought to follow your example. I 
 know of more than one that would cut off one of their fingers, 
 and not the little one either, to manufacture a husband accord- 
 ing to their heart, all made of sugar and orange-flower water. 
 Give them your secret, and you will dry up many tears. For 
 two thousand years they have been complaining, and for two 
 thousand years longer they will complain of being misunder- 
 stood and sacrificed." Saying this, he embraced his daugh- 
 ter, and asked for two days to make ready for the wedding. 
 No less time was needed to invite all their friends round 
 about, and to prepare a dinner which would not be unworthy 
 of the richest merchant of Paestum. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE ABDUCTION OF PERLINO. 
 
 To see so novel a marriage, every one came from the whole 
 country round ; rich and poor, young and old, friends and 
 foes, all wished to know Perlino. Unhappily, there never is a 
 wedding without the devil meddles with it, and Violet's god- 
 mother had not foreseen what would happen. 
 
 Among the invited guests there was a personage of con- 
 siderable importance a countess of the neighborhood, by the 
 name of the Lady of the Chinking Guineas. She was as wick- 
 ed and as old as Satan ; her skin was yellow and wrinkled, 
 her eyes haggard, her cheeks hollow, her nose hooked, and 
 her chin pointed ; but she was rich, so rich that every one 
 bowed down to her as she passed, and disputed the honor of 
 kissing her hand. Beppo bent to the ground, and seated her 
 at his right hand, happy and proud to present his daughter 
 
Per lino. 2 1 
 
 and son-in-law to a lady who, having more than a hundred 
 millions, did him the favor to eat his dinner. 
 
 During the whole meal the Lady of the Chinking Guineas 
 did nothing but gaze at Perlino. Her heart was burning 
 with envy. The countess lived in a castle worthy of the 
 fairies, with walls of gold and pavements of silver. In this 
 castle there was a gallery in which all the curiosities of the 
 world were assembled a clock that always struck the hour 
 desired ; an elixir that cured gout and headache ; a philter 
 that changed sorrow to joy ; an arrow of love ; the shade of 
 Scipio ; the heart of a coquette ; the religion of a doctor ; a 
 stuffed siren ; three horns of a unicorn ; the conscience of a 
 courtier ; the politeness of a man newly enriched ; and the 
 hippogriff of Orlando all things that never had been and 
 never would be seen any where else. But this treasure lacked 
 one gem this cherub of a Perlino. 
 
 Before dessert arrived the lady had resolved to gain pos- 
 session of him. She was very avaricious j but what she de- 
 sired she must have at once, no matter at what price. She 
 bought all that was to be sold, and even that which was not 
 for sale ; all the rest she stole, quite certain that the laws were 
 only made for the poor. " From an ignorant doctor, a stub- 
 born mule, and a wicked woman, good Lord, deliver us !" says 
 the proverb. No sooner had they risen from the table than 
 she drew near Perlino, who, born only three days before, had 
 not yet opened his eyes to the wickedness of the world, and 
 told him of all the beauty and riches in the Palace of the 
 Chinking Guineas. " Come with me, my dear little friend," 
 said she, " and I will give you whatever place you like in my 
 palace. Choose ; would you rather be a page dressed in gold, 
 a chamberlain with a diamond key suspended about your 
 neck, or a door-keeper with a silver halberd and a great gold 
 breast-plate that will make you more brilliant than the sun ? 
 Speak but a word, and all is yours." 
 
22 Fairy Book. 
 
 The poor innocent was dazzled ; but, however short a time 
 he had breathed his native air, he was already a Neapolitan, 
 that is, the reverse of stupid. 
 
 " Madam," answered he, ingenuously, " to work is the trade 
 of oxen ; there is nothing so healthful as repose. I should 
 like a profession in which there was nothing to do and a great 
 deal to gain, like the canons of St. Januarius." 
 
 "What !" said the Lady of the Chinking Guineas, " at your 
 age, would you already be an idler ?" 
 
 " Yes, and twice over," interrupted Perlino, " so as to earn 
 double wages." 
 
 " That makes no difference," returned the countess ; " in 
 the mean time, come, and I will show you my carriage, my 
 English coachman, and my six gray horses." She drew him 
 toward the door. " And Violet ?" said Perlino, faintly. "Vio- 
 let is following us," replied the lady, dragging on the impru- 
 dent boy, who suffered her to lead him. Once in the yard, 
 she showed him her beautiful horses, which were pawing the 
 ground and shaking their nets of red silk hung with golden 
 bells ; then persuaded him to enter the carriage to try the 
 cushions, and look at himself ir^lhe mirrors. Suddenly she 
 shut the door, the coachman cracked his whip, and off they 
 went at full gallop toward the Castle of the Chinking Guineas. 
 
 Violet meanwhile was gracefully receiving the congratu- 
 lations of the assembly. Astonished at not seeing her be- 
 trothed, who had clung to her like her shadow, she ran through 
 all the rooms without finding him ; then climbed to the top 
 of the house to see if he had not gone there to breathe the 
 fresh air, but all in vain. In the distance she perceived a 
 cloud of dust, and a coach with six horses going at full gallop 
 toward the mountain. There was no more doubt ; it was car- 
 rying off Perlino. At the sight Violet felt her heart sink 
 within her. Without thinking that she was bareheaded and 
 
Per lino. 23 
 
 in bridal attire, with lace dress and satin shoes, she rushed 
 from her father's house and ran after the carriage, shouting 
 Perlino's name, and stretching out her arms. She might as 
 well have cried to the winds. The ungrateful boy was wholly 
 absorbed in the honeyed words of his new mistress. He was 
 playing with the rings on her fingers, and dreaming already 
 that the next morning he should awaken a prince. Alas! 
 there are older ones than he that are no wiser. When do 
 men learn that at home goodness and beauty are worth more 
 than riches ? When it is too late, and they no longer have 
 strength to break the chains that they have put on their own 
 hands. 
 
 IV. 
 
 NIGHT AND DAY. 
 
 POOR Violet ran all day long after Perlino ; ditches, brooks, 
 thickets, briers, thorns, nothing stopped her. He who suffers 
 for love feels no pain. When evening came she found her- 
 self in a dark forest, overpowered with fatigue and half dead 
 with hunger, her hands and fff covered with blood. Seized 
 with terror, she looked round her ; a thousand faces seemed 
 to glare threateningly from the darkness. She threw herself 
 trembling at the foot of a tree, calling on Perlino, in a low 
 voice, to bid him a last farewell. 
 
 As she held her breath, so frightened that she dared not 
 move, she heard the trees about her talking together. It is 
 the privilege of innocence to understand all the creatures of 
 God. " Neighbor," said a carob-tree to a hollow olive-tree, 
 " that young girl is very imprudent to lie on the ground. In 
 an hour the wolves will quit their den, and if they spare her, 
 the morning dew and cold will give her a fever from which 
 she will never recover. Why doesn't she climb among my 
 
24 Fairy Book. 
 
 branches ? She could sleep there in peace, and I would will- 
 ingly give her some of my pods to recruit her exhausted 
 strength." 
 
 " You are right, neighbor," answered the olive-tree. " The 
 child would do still better if, before going to sleep, she should 
 put her hand into my trunk, where the bagpipe and clothes 
 of a piper are hidden. A goat-skin is not to be despised as a 
 protection from the cold night air ; and a lace dress and satin 
 shoes are a light costume for a girl to roam the world in." 
 
 Violet was reassured when she had found the coarse jacket, 
 goat-skin cloak, pointed hat, and bagpipe of the piper. She 
 bravely climbed the carob-tree, ate its sugared fruit, drank 
 the evening dew, and, wrapping herself up warmly, lay down 
 among the branches as well as she could. The tree clasped 
 its paternal arms about her, the wood-pigeons left their nests 
 to cover her with leaves, the wind rocked her like an infant, 
 and she fell asleep thinking of her beloved. 
 
 On waking the next morning she was rilled with terror. 
 The weather was calm and beautiful, but in the silence of the 
 woods the poor child felt her solitude more deeply than ever. 
 Every thing was living and loving around her; and who 
 thought of the poor forsaken one ? She began to sing in or- 
 der to call to her aid all that passed by without looking at 
 her ; but the wind swept on murmuring, the bee set out in 
 search of his booty, the swallows chased the flies high in the 
 air, the birds chirped and sang to each other in the foliage, 
 and no one troubled himself about Violet. She descended 
 from the tree with a sigh, and marched straight forward, trust- 
 ing to her heart to find Perlino. 
 
Per lino. 25 
 
 V. 
 
 THE THREE FRIENDS. 
 
 A TORRENT fell from the mountain, the bed of which was 
 partly dried up. Violet followed this road. The red laurels 
 were already springing from the water, their branches covered 
 with flowers. Violet plunged among the verdure, followed by 
 the butterflies, fluttering around her as around a lily shaken 
 by the wind. She walked faster than an exile returning home ; 
 but the heat was intense, and before noon she was forced to 
 stop. 
 
 On approaching a pool of water to cool her burning feet, 
 she saw a drowning bee. She extended her tiny foot, and the 
 insect climbed on it. Once dry, the bee remained for some 
 time motionless as if to regain breath ; then it shook its damp 
 wings, and, passing over its whole body its foot softer than 
 silk, it dried and polished itself, and, taking flight, buzzed 
 around her who had saved its life. 
 
 " Violet," it said, " you have not obliged an ingrate. I 
 know where you are going ; let me go with you. When I am 
 tired, I will rest on your head. If ever you are in need of me, 
 only say 
 
 " ' Nebuchadnezzar, hark and behold, 
 
 The peace of the heart is better than gold,' 
 
 and perhaps I can serve you." 
 
 " Ah !" said Violet, " I never can say '"Nebuchadnezzar. 1 " 
 
 " What do you want ?" asked the bee. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing," replied Violet ; " I shall not need you 
 till I reach Perlino." 
 
 She set out again on the way with a lighter heart. In a 
 few minutes she heard a faint cry ; it was a white mouse that 
 
 B 
 
26 Fairy Book. 
 
 had been wounded by a hedgehog, and had escaped its en- 
 emy, covered with blood, and half dead. Violet took pity on 
 the poor animal. Notwithstanding her haste, she stopped to 
 wash its wounds, and to give it one of the carob-pods which 
 she had kept for her breakfast 
 
 " Violet," said the mouse, " you have not obliged an ingrate. 
 I know where you are going. Put me into your pocket with 
 the rest of your carob-pods. If ever you are in need of me, 
 only say 
 
 " ' Tricche verlacche, 
 
 Coat of gold and heart of a lackey,' 
 
 and perhaps I can serve you." 
 
 Violet slipped the mouse into her pocket, that it might nib- 
 ble there at its ease, and continued to ascend the torrent. 
 Toward dusk she approached the mountain, when suddenly 
 a squirrel fell at her feet, pursued by a frightful screech-owl. 
 Violet was not timid. She struck the owl with her bagpipe, 
 and put it to flight, then picked up the squirrel, which was 
 more stunned than hurt by its fall, and brought it to life by 
 dint of care. 
 
 " Violet," said the squirrel, " you have not obliged an in- 
 grate. I know where you are going. Put me on your shoul- 
 der, and piek some nuts for me, that I may not let my teeth 
 grow long for want of something to do. If ever you are in 
 need of me, only say 
 
 " ' Patita, Patite, 
 
 Look well and you'll see,' 
 
 and perhaps I can serve you." 
 
 Violet was somewhat astonished at these three encounters. 
 She relied little on this gratitude in words ; what could such 
 weak friends do for her ? " No matter," thought she, " it is 
 always right to do good ; let what will happen, I have had 
 pity on the unfortunate." At this moment the moon came 
 
Per lino. 2 7 
 
 out from a cloud, and its pale light fell on the old Castle of 
 the Chinking Guineas. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF THE CHINKING GUINEAS. 
 
 THE sight of the castle was not calculated to reassure hei. 
 On the top of a mountain, which was nothing but a mass of 
 crumbling rocks, she saw battlements of gold, turrets of silver, 
 and roofs of sapphire and ruby, surrounded with great ditches 
 full of greenish water, and defended by draw-bridges, portcul- 
 lises, parapets, enormous bars, and loopholes from which pro- 
 truded the throats of cannon, and all the paraphernalia of war 
 and murder. The beautiful palace was nothing but a prison. 
 Violet painfully climbed a winding path, and finally reached 
 a narrow passage, which led to an iron door furnished with a 
 huge lock. She called without receiving an answer; then 
 pulled a bell, upon which a jailer appeared, blacker and ug- 
 lier than Cerberus. 
 
 " Begone, beggar !" he cried, " or I will knock you down. 
 There is no lodging for the poor here. In the Castle of the 
 Chinking Guineas we give alms only to those that do not need 
 them." 
 
 Poor Violet turned away weeping. " Courage !" said the 
 squirrel, cracking a nut ; "play your bagpipe." 
 
 " I never played in my life," answered Violet. 
 
 " The more reason for doing so," replied the squirrel. " So 
 long as you have not tried to do a thing, you don't know 
 whether you can do it or not. Blow !" 
 
 Violet began to blow with all her might, moving her fingers 
 and singing in the instrument, when behold ! the pipes filled, 
 and played a tarantella that would have caused the dead to 
 dance. At the sound the squirrel leaped to the ground, and 
 
28 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 the mouse did not stay behind. They skipped and danced 
 like true Neapolitans, while the bee buzzed and whirled around 
 them. It was a sight well worth paying for. 
 
 At the sound of this sweet music the black shutters of the 
 castle were quickly seen to open. The Lady of the Chinking 
 Guineas had her maids of honor, who were not sorry to look 
 out from time to time to see whether the flies always buzzed 
 
Per lino. 29 
 
 the same way. It was in vain not to be curious ; it was not 
 every day that they heard a tarantella played by such a hand- 
 some shepherd as Violet. 
 
 " Boy," cried one, " come this way !" 
 
 " No," called another, " come on my side." And they all 
 smiled on him, but the door remained shut. 
 
 " Ladies," said Violet, taking off her hat, " be as good as 
 you are beautiful. I have been overtaken by night in the 
 mountain, and have neither lodging nor supper. Give me a 
 corner in the stable and a crust of bread, and I and my little 
 dancers will amuse you all the evening." 
 
 The regulations were strict in the Castle of the Chinking 
 Guineas. There was such fear of robbers that no one was 
 admitted after dusk. The ladies knew this well ; but in an 
 honest household there is always a hangman's rope to be 
 found. One end was thrown out of the window ; in an instant 
 Violet was hoisted into a large chamber, with all her menag- 
 erie, and there she was forced to blow, and sing, and dance 
 for long hours without being permitted to open her mouth 
 to ask after Perlino. No matter, she was happy in feeling 
 herself under the same roof with him, and it seemed to her 
 that at this moment the heart of her beloved must be beating 
 like her own. The innocent child believed that it was only 
 necessary to love in order to be loved. Her dreams that 
 night were sweet ones. 
 
 VII. 
 
 NEBUCHADNEZZAR. 
 
 EARLY the next morning, Violet, who had slept in the barn, 
 clambered on the roof and looked about her ; but her eyes 
 wandered in vain in all directions ; she saw nothing but 
 grated towers and solitary gardens. She burst into tears, in 
 
30 Fairy Book. 
 
 spite of all the efforts of her three little friends to comfort 
 her. 
 
 In the court-yard, all paved with silver, she found the maids 
 of honor seated in a circle, spinning gold and silver flax on 
 their distaffs. " Begone !" they exclaimed, as soon as they 
 saw her ; " if the countess should see your rags, she would 
 turn us all out of doors. Begone ! vile piper, and never re- 
 turn ; unless, indeed, you should become a prince or a banker." 
 
 " Oh, do not send me away so soon, fair ladies," replied 
 Violet ; " let me wait on you ; I will be so good and so obe- 
 dient that you will never regret having let me stay." 
 
 The first maid of honor, a tall, thin, wrinkled, yellow, and 
 sharp-featured woman, rose, and, for her sole answer, motioned 
 the little shepherd to the door, and called the jailer, who ad- 
 vanced, frowning and brandishing his pike. 
 
 " I am lost !" exclaimed the poor girl ; " I shall never more 
 see my Perlino !" 
 
 " Violet !" said the squirrel, gravely, " gold is tried in the 
 furnace, and friends in misfortune." 
 
 " You are right," exclaimed Violet. 
 
 " ' Nebuchadnezzar, hark and behold, 
 
 The peace of the heart is better than gold !' " 
 
 The bee instantly flew in the air, and behold ! a beautiful 
 crystal coach, with ruby shafts and emerald wheels, suddenly 
 appeared in the court-yard. The equipage was drawn by four 
 black dogs the size of rats. Four large beetles, dressed as 
 jockeys, guided the tiny steeds with a light hand. At the 
 back of the carriage, luxuriously reclining on cushions of blue 
 satin, was stretched a young woodpecker, dressed in a little 
 rose-colored bonnet, and a heavy brocade robe, so full that it 
 fell over the wheels. The lady held a fan in one hand, and 
 a smelling-bottle, and a handkerchief embroidered with her 
 arms and trimmed with broad lace, in the other. By her side, 
 
Per lino. 3 1 
 
 half buried under the silken folds, was an owl, with languid 
 air, listless eye, and bald head, and so old that his beak lap- 
 ped like a pair of dislocated scissors. They were a new-mar- 
 ried couple who were making their wedding-calls a fashion- 
 able establishment, such as the Lady of the Chinking Guineas 
 adored. 
 
 At the sight of this masterpiece, a cry of admiration and 
 joy awakened all the echoes of the palace. The jailer let fall 
 his pike with astonishment, while the ladies ran after the car- 
 riage and four spaniels, which set off at full gallop as if they 
 were carrying the king in person. The strange noise dis- 
 turbed the Lady of the Chinking Guineas, who was in con- 
 stant fear of being robbed. She ran thither furious, resolved 
 to turn all her maids of honor out of doors. She paid to be 
 respected, and was determined to have the worth of her money. 
 But when she perceived the equipage when the owl saluted 
 her with a sign of his beak, and the woodpecker waved her 
 handkerchief three times with charming nonchalance, the la- 
 dy's anger vanished in smoke. 
 
 " I must have this !" cried she. " AVhat is the price of it ?" 
 
 The countess's voice frightened Violet, but the love of Per- 
 lino gave her courage. She replied that, poor as she was, she 
 loved her fancy better than all the gold in the world, and that 
 she prized her carriage, and would not sell it for the Castle 
 of the Chinking Guineas. 
 
 " Oh, the foolish vanity of beggars !" muttered the lady. 
 " Truly, none but the rich have a holy respect for gold, and 
 are ready to do any thing for a dollar. I must have this car- 
 riage," added she, in a threatening tone ; " cost what it may, 
 I will have it." 
 
 " Madam," said Violet, greatly excited, " it is true that I 
 will not sell it, but I shall be happy to offer it to your ladyship 
 as a gift if you will grant me one favor." 
 
32 Fairy Book. 
 
 " It will be dear," thought the countess. " Speak !" said 
 she to Violet j " what do you want ?" 
 
 " Madam," replied Violet, trembling, " it is said that you 
 have a museum in which all the curiosities of the world are 
 collected. Show them to me ; if there is any thing there more 
 wonderful than this carriage, my treasure is yours." 
 
 For her sole answer, the Lady of the Chinking Guineas 
 shrugged her shoulders, and led Violet to a great gallery, the 
 like of which had never been seen. She showed her all her 
 riches a star fallen from heaven; a necklace made of a 
 moonbeam, plaited in three strands ; black lilies ; green roses ; 
 an eternal love ; fire that did not burn, and many other curi- 
 osities ; but she did not show the only thing that would have 
 moved Violet Perlino was not there. 
 
 The countess vainly sought admiration and astonishment 
 in the eyes of the little shepherd ; she read nothing there but 
 indifference. "Well," said she, "all these marvels are far 
 more wonderful than your four puppies ; the carriage is mine." 
 - " No, madam," said Violet ; " all these things are dead, and 
 my curiosities are living. You can not compare sticks and 
 stones to my owl and woodpecker personages so real and 
 natural that it seems as if you had just met them in the street. 
 Art is nothing compared with life." 
 
 " Is that all ?" said the countess. " I will show you a little 
 man made of sugar and almond paste, who sings like a night- 
 ingale, and reasons like a professor." 
 
 " Perlino !" cried Violet. 
 
 " Ah !" said the Lady of the Chinking Guineas, " my maids 
 of honor have been chattering." She looked at the piper 
 with the instinct of fear. " On reflection," she added, " I do 
 not want your child's toys begone !" 
 
 "Madam," said Violet, trembling, "let me speak to this 
 miracle of a Perlino, and take the carriage." 
 
Per lino. 33 
 
 " No," said the countess, " begone ! and take your animals 
 with you." 
 
 " Only let me see Perlino." 
 
 " No, no !" replied the lady. 
 
 " Only let me sleep a night at his door," resumed Violet, in 
 tears. " See what a jewel you are refusing !" she added, bend- 
 ing on one knee, and offering the carriage to the Lady of the 
 Chinking Guineas. 
 
 At the sight the countess hesitated, then smiled ; in an in- 
 stant she had found the means of deceiving Violet and obtain- 
 ing what she coveted for nothing. " It is a bargain," said she, 
 seizing the carriage ; u you shall sleep to-night at Perlino 's 
 door, and shall even see him j but I forbid you to speak to 
 him." 
 
 The evening come, the Lady of the Chinking Guineas sent 
 for Perlino to sup with her. When she had made him eat 
 and drink heartily, which was an easy thing with a youth of a 
 yielding disposition, she poured out some excellent wine into 
 a gilt cup, and, taking a crystal box from her pocket, took 
 from it a reddish powder, which she threw into the wine. 
 " Drink this, my child," said she to Perlino, " and tell me how 
 you like it." 
 
 Perlino, who did whatever he was bid, swallowed the liquor 
 at a single draught. 
 
 " Pah !" cried he, " this drink is detestable ; it smells of 
 blood and wine ; it is poison !" 
 
 "Foolish fellow !" replied the countess, " it is potable gold ; 
 whoever has drunk it once will drink it always. Take an- 
 other glass," she added; "you will find it better than the 
 first." 
 
 The lady was right. Scarcely had the child emptied the 
 cup, when he was seized with a raging thirst. " More ! more !" 
 he cried. He would not quit the table ; and, to persuade him 
 
 B 2 
 
34 Fairy Book. 
 
 to go to bed, the countess was obliged to make him a great 
 paper cornet of this marvelous powder, which he put carefully 
 into his pocket as a remedy for all evils. 
 
 Poor Perlino ! it was indeed a poison, and the most terrible 
 of poisons, that he had taken. Whoever drinks potable gold 
 feels his heart frozen the instant the liquid enters his stom- 
 ach. He neither knows nor loves any thing thenceforth, nei- 
 ther father, nor mother, nor wife, nor children, nor friends, nor 
 country ; he thinks only of himself, and wishes to drink, and 
 would drink all the gold and blood of the world without 
 quenching a thirst that nothing could satisfy. 
 
 Meanwhile, what was Violet doing ? The time seemed as 
 long to her as a day without bread to the poor. As soon as 
 night put on her black mask to open the starry ball, Violet 
 ran to Perlino's door, quite sure that on seeing her he would 
 throw himself into her arms. How her heart beat when she 
 heard him coming up the stairs ! and what was her sorrow 
 when the ingrate passed by without even looking at her ! 
 
 The door closed and double locked, and the key taken out, 
 Violet threw herself on a mat that had been given her through 
 pity, and, bursting into tears, covered her face with her hands 
 to stifle her sobs. She did not dare to complain for fear of 
 being driven away; but when the hour came in which the 
 stars alone had their eyes open, she scratched gently on the 
 door, and sang to Perlino in a low voice, 
 
 " Dost thou hear me, Perlino? 
 
 'Tis I who would free thee ; 
 Open quickly to me, 
 
 Lest I die ere I see thee. 
 I tremble, I shiver, I sigh, 
 Since thou, love, no longer art nigh. 
 
 Night or day, 
 
 Since thou art away, 
 I no more am glad or gay." 
 
 Alas ! it was in vain. Nothing stirred in the room. Per- 
 
Per lino. 35 
 
 lino was snoring, and dreaming only of his gold dust. The 
 hours dragged slowly along, bringing no hope. But, however 
 long and painful the night, the morning was still sadder. The 
 Lady of the Chinking Guineas appeared at daybreak. " Are 
 you satisfied, handsome piper?" said she, with a malicious 
 smile. "The carriage is paid for at your own price." 
 
 " May you have such contentment all the days of your 
 life !" murmured poor Violet. " I have passed such a wretch- 
 ed night that I shall not soon forget it." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 TRICCHE VERLACCHE. 
 
 VIOLET retired sadly. Her hopes were vanished, and noth- 
 ing was left for her but to return to her father's house, and 
 forget him who no longer loved her. She crossed the court- 
 yard, followed by the maids of honor jeering at her simplicity. 
 On reaching the gate, she turned to take a last look. Seeing 
 herself alone, she burst into tears, and hid her face in her 
 hands. 
 
 " Begone, beggar !" cried the jailer, seizing her by the col- 
 lar, and shaking her with an air of importance. 
 
 " Begone !" said Violet ; " never ! 
 
 " ' Tricche Verlacche, 
 
 Coat of gold and heart of a lackey,' " 
 
 cried she. 
 
 And behold ! the mouse sprang at the jailer's face, and bit 
 it till it bled ; then an immense bird-cage, as large as a Chi- 
 nese pavilion, rose up before the gate. The bars were of sil- 
 ver, and the seed-cups of diamonds, with pearls for hemp- 
 seed, and guineas, strung on ribbons of all colors, for cuttle- 
 fish. In this magnificent cage, on a swinging ladder that 
 turned with the wind, hopped and twittered thousands of birds 
 
36 Fairy Book. 
 
 of all sizes and countries humming-birds, parrots, cardinal- 
 birds, linnets, canaries, and every other species. All this 
 feathered world was warbling the same song, each in his jar- 
 gon. Violet, who understood the language of birds as well 
 as that of plants, translated it for the benefit of the maids of 
 honor, who were greatly astonished to find such rare prudence 
 among canaries. The chorus ran as follows : 
 
 " Freedom is folly, 
 
 Hurrah for the cage ! 
 
 Whoever is sage 
 Will come hither to stay, 
 To eat, and to drink, and be jolly, 
 Where, for all these delights, 
 
 He has only to pay 
 
 By warbling a lay. 
 Freedom is folly, 
 
 Hurrah for the cage !" 
 
 A deep silence followed these joyful cries. Then an old 
 red and green parrot, with a grave and serious air, raised one 
 claw, and, swinging on his perch, sang in a nasal tone, or 
 rather croaked, this solo : 
 
 " The nightingale in his black vest, 
 Who never comes out of his nest 
 Till the sun has gone down in the west, 
 To sing to his mistress the moon, 
 Is a fellow unpleasant to see. 
 He is proud as a king, though he lives 
 Like a beggar, yet still he believes 
 No bird is so happy as he. 
 Then his voice what a bore ! 
 
 We should, entre nous, 
 
 Without more ado, 
 
 Hang all such fools who 
 Good fortune refuse to adore." 
 
 And all the birds, ravished with his eloquence, began to whis- 
 tle in shrill tones, 
 
 " Freedom is folly, 
 
 Hurrah for the cage !" 
 
Perlino. 
 
 37 
 
 As the maids of honor were crowding round the magic 
 bird-cage, the Lady of the Chinking Guineas appeared, and it 
 may be believed that she was not the last to covet this mar- 
 vel. " Child," said she to the piper, " will you sell me this 
 cage at the same price as the carriage ?" 
 
 "Willingly, madam," answered Violet, who had no other 
 desire. 
 
 " It is a bargain," said the lady. " None but beggars would 
 be guilty of such follies." 
 
 The night did not differ from the preceding one. Perlino, 
 drunk with the potable gold, entered his chamber without 
 even raising his eyes ; and Violet threw herself on her mat, 
 more wretched than ever. She sang as on the first night, and 
 shed tears that would have melted a heart of stone, but all in 
 vain. Perlino slept like a dethroned king, and the sobs of 
 his mistress lulled him like the murmurs of the winds and 
 waves. Toward midnight, Violet's three friends, grieved at 
 her sorrow, held council. " It is not natural that he should 
 sleep in this way," said the squirrel. "We must go in and 
 wake him," said the mouse. " But how shall we get in ?" said 
 the bee, who had been vainly seeking a crack in the wall. 
 "That is my business," said the mouse. And he quickly 
 gnawed a little hole in the door large enough for the bee to 
 glide into the room where Perlino lay asleep on his back, 
 snoring. Angry at this calmness, the bee stung him on the 
 lip j he sighed, and struck his cheek a blow, but did not wake. 
 
 " He has been put to sleep," said the bee, returning. 
 " There is magic in it. What shall we do ?" 
 
 " Wait !" said the mouse, who had not let his teeth rust. 
 "It is my turn to go into the room. I will awaken him, 
 should I eat his heart out." 
 
 " No, no," said Violet, " I will not have my Perlino hurt." 
 
 The mouse was already in the room. To jump on the bed 
 
38 Fairy Book. 
 
 and creep under the coverlid was play for the cousin of the 
 rats. He went straight to Perlino's breast, but before mak- 
 ing a hole in it he listened. The heart did not beat ; there 
 was no more doubt Perlino was enchanted. 
 
 Just as the mouse brought back this news, day broke, and 
 the lady appeared, smiling maliciously. Violet, furious at 
 having been played with, gnawed her fingers in anger. She 
 nevertheless made a low courtesy to the countess, saying to 
 herself, " To-morrow I will have my revenge." 
 
 IX. 
 
 PATITA, PATITE. 
 
 THIS time Violet went down to the court-yard with more 
 courage ; her hope had revived. As on the day before, she 
 found the maids of honor there still spinning on their dis- 
 taffs. " Come, handsome piper," they cried, laughing, " what 
 have you to show us now ?" 
 
 "Something that will please you, fair ladies," answered 
 Violet. 
 
 " ' Patita, Patite, 
 
 Look well and you'll see.' " 
 
 The squirrel threw one of his nuts on the ground, and a 
 puppet-show instantly appeared. The curtain rose. The 
 scene represented a court of justice. At the upper end of 
 the room, on a throne hung with red velvet spangled with 
 stars, sat the judge, a huge cat of respectable appearance, 
 notwithstanding a few crumbs of cheese that remained on his 
 long whiskers. Buried in contemplation, with his hands cross- 
 ed under his long sleeves and his eyes closed, you would have 
 thought him sleeping, if justice ever slumbered in the king- 
 dom of cats. 
 
 On the side was a wooden bench, on which were chained 
 
Per lino. 39 
 
 three mice, whose teeth had been filed and ears cut off by way 
 of precaution. They were suspected, which at Naples means 
 convicted, of having looked too closely at a rind of musty 
 bacon. Opposite the culprits was a canopy of black cloth, 
 on which was inscribed, in letters of gold, the sentence of the 
 great poet and magician Virgil, 
 
 " CRUSH THE MICE, BUT SPARE THE CATS." 
 
 Under the canopy stood the public prosecutor, a weasel 
 with a receding forehead, red eyes, and pointed tongue, who, 
 with one hand on his heart, was eloquently demanding that 
 the law should condemn the mice to the gallows. His words 
 flowed like a silvery fountain ; he prayed for the death of 
 these wretched little animals in so tender and pathetic a voice 
 that one became indignant at their obduracy. They seemed 
 wholly lacking in their duty in not themselves offering their 
 guilty heads to calm the feelings and dry the tears of this ex- 
 cellent weasel, whose voice was choked with such emotion. 
 
 When the prosecutor had finished his touching speech, a 
 young rat, scarcely weaned, rose to defend the culprits. He 
 had just adjusted his spectacles, taken off his cap, and turned 
 down his sleeves, when the cat, through respect for free de- 
 fense and for the interest of the accused, forbade him to 
 speak ; after which, in a solemn voice, Master Grimalkin 
 soundly rated the accused, witnesses, society, heaven, earth, 
 and rats. Then, putting on his cap, he pronounced an aveng 
 ing sentence, condemning these guilty animals to be hung and 
 flayed on the spot, their goods to be confiscated, their mem- 
 ory to be branded, and themselves to pay the costs of the 
 suit ; imprisonment for debt being limited, however, to five 
 years, as it was necessary to be humane even to villains. 
 
 The farce played, the curtain fell. 
 
 " How natural it is !" cried the Lady of the Chinking Guin- 
 
40 Fairy Book. 
 
 eas. " It is the justice of cats copied to the life. Shepherd 01 
 sorcerer, whatever you may be, sell me your star chamber." 
 " At the same price, madam," answered Violet. 
 " You shall sleep here to-night," returned the countess. 
 " Yes, madam," replied Violet; adding to herself, " May you 
 repay me for all the harm you have done me !" 
 
 While the comedy was being played in the court-yard, the 
 squirrel had not wasted his time. By dint of climbing over 
 the roofs, he had finally discovered Perlino eating figs in the 
 garden. From the roof it was an easy matter to leap to a 
 tree, and from the tree to a thicket, until he at length reach- 
 ed Perlino, who was playing morra with his shadow, a sure 
 way of always winning. To play morra, one player holds up 
 one or more fingers, and the other bets at the same instant 
 how many he will hold up. 
 
 " My friend," said the squirrel, " solitude has its charms ; 
 but you do not look as if playing alone amused you much ; 
 suppose we have a game together." 
 
 " Bah !" said Perlino, " your fingers are too short, and you 
 are nothing but an animal." 
 
 " Short fingers are not always a fault," replied the squirrel ; 
 "I have seen more than one man hung whose only crime 
 was that of having them too long ; and if I am an animal, 
 Master Perlino, at least I am a wide-awake animal. That is 
 better than having so much wit and sleeping like a dormouse. 
 If happiness ever knocks at my door in the night, at least I 
 shall be up to let it in." 
 
 " Speak clearly," said Perlino. " Something strange has 
 been the matter with me for the last two days. My head is 
 heavy and my heart sorrowful, and I have horrible dreams. 
 What is the reason ?" 
 
 " Guess !" said the squirrel. " Do not drink and you will 
 not sleep ; do not sleep and you will see many things. A word 
 
Perlino. 4 1 
 
 to the wise is sufficient." Saying this, he sprang on a branch 
 and disappeared. 
 
 Since Perlino had lived in retirement, reason had come to 
 him. Nothing makes one so wicked as being dull in com- 
 pany; nothing makes him so wise as being dull alone. At 
 supper he studied the face and smile of the Lady of the 
 Chinking Guineas. He *seemed as gay as usual, but every 
 time that she gave him the cup of forge tfulness, he went to 
 the window, pretending to admire the beauty of the evening, 
 and threw the gold into the garden, where it fell, it is said, on 
 some white beetles that were burrowing in the ground, and 
 from that time the cockchafers were golden. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE RECOGNITION. 
 
 ON entering his room, Perlino noticed the piper looking at 
 him mournfully, but he did not stop for any questions, such 
 was his haste to be alone to see whether happiness would 
 knock at his door, and in what form it would come. His 
 anxiety was not of long duration. He was not yet in bed 
 when he heard Violet's sweet and plaintive voice, reminding 
 him, in the most tender terms, how she had moulded and 
 made him with her own hands ; how it was to her prayers that 
 he owed his life ; how, notwithstanding, he had suffered him- 
 self to be seduced and carried off; and how she had pursued 
 him with such toil and pains. Violet also told him, in still 
 more touching accents, how she had watched for the last two 
 nights at his door, and, to obtain this favor, had given away 
 treasures worthy of a king without obtaining a single word 
 from him ; and how this night was the end of her hopes and 
 life. 
 
 On listening to these words, which pierced his soul, it seem- 
 
42 Fairy Book. 
 
 ed to Perlino that he had awakened from a dream, and that 
 a cloud fell from his eyes. He opened the door, and softly 
 called Violet, who threw herself into his arms weeping. He 
 attempted to speak, but she stopped him. We always believe 
 those we love, and there are moments when we are too happy 
 for any thing but tears. 
 
 " Let us go," said Perlino ; " let us quit this hateful dun- 
 geon." 
 
 " To go is not so easy, Master Perlino," answered the squir- 
 rel ; " the Lady of the Chinking Guineas does not willingly 
 let go of what she has in her clutches. We have exhausted 
 all our gifts in awakening you, and to save you a miracle is 
 needed." 
 
 " Perhaps I have a means," said Perlino, whose wit grew 
 as the sap rises in the trees in spring-time. 
 
 He took the cornet which contained the magic powder, and 
 made his way to the stable, followed by Violet and the three 
 friends, saddled the best horse, and, walking softly, reached 
 the gate where the jailer was sleeping, his keys in his belt. 
 At the sound of footsteps the man awoke and started up. Be- 
 fore he had time to open his mouth, Perlino poured the pot- 
 able gold down his throat, at the risk of suffocating him ; but, 
 instead of complaining, he began to smile, and fell back in 
 his chair, closing his eyes, and stretching out his hands for 
 more. To seize the bunch of keys, open the gate, shut it 
 again, triple lock it, and throw the keys of perdition into the 
 ditch to imprison covetousness forever, was the work of an 
 instant. Unhappily, Perlino forgot the keyhole, which left 
 room enough for it to escape, and invade the human heart 
 anew. 
 
 At length they were free and on the road homeward, both 
 mounted on the same horse, Perlino in front and Violet be- 
 hind. She wound her arm round the neck of her beloved, 
 
Perlino. 
 
 43 
 
 and clasped him to her, to be sure that his heart was still beat- 
 ing. Perlino continually turned his head to see the face of 
 his dear Violet, and to behold that smile which he was in con- 
 stant fear of losing. Fear and prudence were forgotten ; and 
 if the squirrel had not more than once caught the reins to 
 keep the horse from stumbling or going astray, who knows 
 but the travelers would still be on the road ? 
 
 I leave you to imagine the joy of Beppo at recovering his 
 daughter and son-in-law. He seemed the youngest of the 
 household. He laughed all day long without knowing why, 
 and wished to dance with every body. He lost his senses to 
 such a degree that he doubled the salaries of his clerks and 
 settled a pension on his cashier, who had served him only 
 thirty-six years. Nothing blinds us like happiness. The 
 
44 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 wedding was magnificent, but this time they took care to try 
 their friends. The bees came from twenty leagues round, 
 bringing a beautiful cake of honey, and the ball ended with a 
 tarentella of mice and a schottisch of squirrels, which was 
 long talked of in Paestum. When the sun drove away the 
 guests, Violet and Perlino kept on dancing, and nothing could 
 stop them. Beppo, who was wiser, made a fine speech to 
 show them that they were no longer children, and that people 
 do not marry for amusement. They threw themselves into 
 his arms, laughing. A father's heart is always weak ; he took 
 them by the hand, and danced with them till evening. 
 
 ippfltl. 
 
 if?- f:-:fi?( : 
 l^./^r^'-^x 
 
YVON AND FINETTE. 
 
 A TALE OF BRITTANY. 
 I. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived in Brittany a noble lord, who 
 was called the Baron Kerver. His manor-house was the 
 most beautiful in the province. It was a great Gothic castle, 
 with a groined roof and walls, covered with carving, that look- 
 ed at a distance like a vine climbing over an arbor. On the 
 first floor six stained glass balcony windows looked out on 
 each side toward the rising and the setting sun. In the morn- 
 ing, when the baron, mounted on his dun mare, went forth 
 into the forest, followed by his tall greyhounds, he saw at each 
 window one of his daughters, with prayer-book in hand, pray- 
 ing for the house of Kerver, and who, with their fair curls, 
 blue eyes, and clasped hands, might have been taken for six 
 Madonnas in an azure niche. At evening, when the sun de- 
 clined and the baron returned homeward, after riding round 
 his domains, he perceived from afar, in the windows looking 
 toward the west, six sons, with dark locks and eagle gaze, the 
 hope and pride of the family; that might have been taken for 
 six sculptured knights at the portal of a church. For ten 
 leagues round, all who wished to quote a happy father and a 
 powerful lord named the Baron Kerver. 
 
 The castle had but twelve windows, and the baron had thir- 
 teen children. The last, the one that had no place, was a 
 handsome boy of sixteen, by the name of Yvon. As usual, he 
 was the best beloved. In the morning, at his departure, and 
 
Fairy Book. 
 
 at evening, on his return, the baron always found Yvon wait- 
 ing on the threshold to embrace him. With his hair falling 
 to his waist, his graceful figure, his willful air, and his bold 
 bearing, Yvon was beloved by all the Bre- 
 tons. At twelve years of age he had 
 bravely attacked and killed a wolf with 
 an axe, which had won him the name of 
 Fearless. He deserved the title, for nev- 
 er was there a bolder heart 
 
 One day, when the baron had staid at 
 home, and was amusing himself by break- 
 ing a lance with his squire, Yvon entered 
 the armory in a traveling dress, and, 
 bending one knee to the ground, 
 
 " My lord and father," said he to the 
 baron, " I come to ask your blessing. The house of Ker- 
 ver is rich in knights, and has no need of a child ; it is time 
 for me to go to seek my fortune. I wish to go to distant 
 countries to try my strength, and to make myself a name." 
 
 " You are right, Fearless," replied the baron, more moved 
 than he wished to appear. " I will not keep you back ; I have 
 no right to do so ; but you are very young, my child ; perhaps 
 it would be better for you to stay another year with us." 
 
 " I am sixteen, my father ; at that age you had already 
 fought one of the proudest lords of the country. I have not 
 forgotten that our arms are a unicorn ripping up a lion, and 
 our motto Onward ! I do not wish the Kervers to blush for 
 their last child." 
 
 Yvon received his father's blessing, shook hands with his 
 brothers, embraced his sisters, bid adieu to all the weeping 
 vassals, and set out with a light heart. 
 
 Nothing stopped him on his way. A river appeared, he 
 swam it ; a mountain, he climbed it ; a forest he made his 
 
Yvon and Finette. 47 
 
 way through it with the sun for a guide. On the Kerver ! he 
 cried, whenever he met with an obstacle, and went straight for- 
 ward in spite of every thing. 
 
 For three years he had been roaming over the world in 
 search of adventures, sometimes conquering, sometimes con- 
 quered, always bold and gay, when he received an offer to go 
 to fight the heathen of Norway. To kill unbelievers and to 
 conquer a kingdom was a double pleasure. \ Yvon enlisted 
 twelve brave comrades, freighted a ship, and hoisted from the 
 main-mast a blue standard, with the unicorn and motto of the 
 Kervers. 
 
 The sea was calm, the wind fair, and the night serene. 
 Yvon, stretched on the deck, watched the stars, and sought 
 the one which cast its trembling light on his father's castle. 
 All at once the vessel struck upon a rock ; a terrible crash 
 was heard ; the sails fell like tinder ; and an enormous wave 
 burst over the deck, and swept away every thing upon it. 
 
 " On the Kerver /" cried Yvon, as soon as his head appear- 
 ed above the water ; and he began to swim as tranquilly as if 
 he had been bathing in the lake of the old castle. Happily the 
 moon was rising. Yvon saw, at a little distance, a black speck 
 among the silvery waves it was land. He approached it, 
 not without difficulty, and finally succeeded in gaining a foot- 
 hold. Dripping wet, exhausted with fatigue, and out of breath, 
 he dragged himself on the sand ; then, without more anxiety, 
 said his prayers, and went to sleep. 
 
 II. 
 
 IN the morning, on awaking, Yvon tried to discover in what 
 country he had been cast. He saw in the distance a house 
 as large as a church, with windows fifty feet in height. He 
 walked a whole day before reaching it. and at last found him 
 
4 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 self in front of an immense door, with a knocker so heavy that 
 it was impossible for a man to lift it. 
 
 Yvon took a great stone and began to knock. " Come in," 
 cried a voice, that sounded like the roar of a bull.f At the 
 same instant the door opened, and the little Breton found 
 himself in the presence of a giant not less than forty feet in 
 height. 
 
 "What is your name, and what do you want here ?" said the 
 giant, taking up Yvon between his thumb and finger, and lift- 
 ing him from the ground so as to see him better. 
 
 " My name is Fearless, and I am seeking my fortune," 
 
Yvon and Finette. 49 
 
 answered Yvon, looking at the monster with an air of defi- 
 ance. 
 
 " Well, brave Fearless, your fortune is made," said the giant, 
 in a mocking tone. " I am in need of a servant, and I will 
 give you the place. You can go to work directly. This is 
 the time for leading my sheep to the pasture j you may clean 
 the stable while I am gone. I shall give you nothing else to 
 do," added he, bursting into a laugh. " You see that I am a 
 good master. Do your task, and, above all things, don't prowl 
 about the house, or it will cost you your life." 
 
 " Certainly I have a good master ; the work is not hard," 
 thought Yvon, when the giant was gone. " I have plenty of 
 time to sweep the stable. What shall I do meanwhile to 
 amuse myself? Shall I look about the house ? Since I am 
 forbidden to do so, it must be because there is something to 
 see." 
 
 He entered the first room, and saw a large fireplace, in 
 which a great pot was hanging, suspended from a hook. The 
 pot was boiling, but there was no fire on the hearth. 
 
 " What does this mean ?" thought Yvon ; " there is some 
 mystery here." He cut off a lock of his hair, dipped it into 
 the pot, and took it out all coated with copper. 
 
 " Oh, oh !" cried he, " this is a new kind of soup ; any body 
 that swallows it must have an iron-clad stomach." 
 
 He went into the next room ; there also a pot was sus- 
 pended from a hook, and boiling without fire. Yvon dip- 
 ped a lock of hair into it, and took it out all coated with sil- 
 ver. 
 
 "The broth is not so rich as this in the Kerver kitchen," 
 thought he, " but it may have a better taste." 
 
 Upon this, he entered the third room. There also a pot 
 was suspended from a hook, and boiling without fire. Yvoa 
 dipped a lock of hair into it, and took it out all coated with 
 
 C 
 
50 Fairy Book. 
 
 gold. It shone so brightly that it might have been mistaken 
 for a sunbeam. 
 
 " Good !" cried he. " In our country the old women have a 
 saying, ' Every thing gets worse and worse ;' here it is just the 
 contrary, every thing gets better and better. What shall I find 
 in the fourth room, I wonder diamond soup ?" 
 
 He pushed open the door, and saw something rarer than 
 precious stones. This was a young woman of such mar- 
 velous beauty that Yvon, dazzled, fell on his knees at the 
 sight 
 
 " Unfortunate youth !" cried she, in a trembling voice, 
 " what are you doing here ?" 
 
 " I belong to the house," answered Yvon ; " the giant took 
 me into his service this morning." 
 
 " His service !" repeated the young girl. " May Heaven 
 preserve you from it!" 
 
 " Why so ?" said Yvon. " I have a good master ; the work 
 is not hard. The stable once swept, my task is finished." 
 
 " Yes, and how will you set to work to sweep it ?" said the 
 lady. " If you sweep it in the usual way, for every forkfull of 
 dung that you throw out of the door, ten will come in at the 
 window. But I will tell you what to do. Turn the fork and 
 sweep with the handle, and the dung will instantly fly out of 
 itself." 
 
 " I will obey," said Yvon ; upon which he sat down by the 
 young girl and began to talk with her. She was the daugh- 
 ter of a fairy, whom the wretched giant had made his slave. 
 Friendship soon springs up between companions in misfor- 
 tune. Before the end of the day, Finette (for that was the 
 lady's name) and Yvon had already promised to belong to 
 each other, if they could escape from their abominable mas- 
 ter. The difficulty was to find the means. . 
 
 Time passes quickly in this kind of talk. Evening was ap 
 
Yvon and Finette. 51 
 
 preaching, when Finette sent away her new friend, advising 
 him to sweep the stable before the giant came home. 
 
 Yvon took down the fork, and attempted to use it as he 
 had seen it done at his father's castle. He soon had enough 
 of it. In less than a second, there was so much dung in the 
 stable that the poor boy knew not which way to turn. He 
 did as Finette had bid him ; he turned the fork and swept 
 with the handle, when behold ! in the twinkling of an eye, the 
 stable was as clean as if no cattle had ever entered it. 
 
 The task finished, Yvon seated himself on a bench before 
 the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming, 
 he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing 
 one of his native airs. 
 
 " Have you cleaned the stable ?" asked the giant, with a 
 frown. 
 
 " Every thing is ready, master," answered Yvon, without 
 troubling himself to move. 
 
 " I am going to see for myself," howled the giant. He en- 
 tered the stable grumbling, found every thing in order, and 
 came out furious. 
 
 " You have seen my Finette," cried he ; " this trick did not 
 come from your own head." 
 
 " What is myfinette ?" asked Yvon, opening his mouth and 
 shutting his eyes. " Is it one of the animals that you have in 
 this country ? Show it to me, master." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, fool," replied the giant ; " you will see 
 her sooner than you will want to." 
 
 The next morning the giant gathered his sheep together to 
 lead them to the pasture ; but, before setting out, he ordered 
 Yvon to go in the course of the day in search of his horse, 
 which was turned out to graze on the mountain. " After that,'" 
 said he, bursting into a laugh, " you can rest all day long. 
 You see that I am a good master. Do your task ; and, above 
 
52 Fairy Book. 
 
 all things, don't prowl about the house, or I will cut off your 
 head." 
 
 Yvon winked his eye as the giant left. " Yes, you are a 
 good master," said he, between his teeth. " I understand your 
 cricks ; but, in spite of your threats, I shall go into the house, 
 J.nd tall^ with your Finette. It remains to be seen whether 
 she will not be more mine than yours." 
 
 He ran to the young girl's room. " Hurrah !" cried he ; 
 " I have nothing to do all day but to go to the mountain after 
 a horse." 
 
 " Very well," said Finette ; " how will you set to work to 
 ride him ?" 
 
 "A fine question," returned Yvon. "As if it was a difficult 
 thing to ride a horse ! I fancy that I have ridden worse ones 
 than this." 
 
 " It is not so easy as you think," replied Finette ; " but I 
 will tell you what to do. Take the bit that hangs behind the 
 stable-door, and, when the animal rushes toward you breath- 
 ing fire and smoke from his nostrils, force it straight between 
 his teeth ; he will instantly become as gentle as a lamb, and 
 you can do what you please with him." 
 
 "I will obey," said Yvon; upon which he sat down by the 
 side of Finette, and began to talk with her. They talked of 
 every thing ; but, however far their fancy strayed, they always 
 came back to the point that they were promised to each other, 
 and that they must escape from the giant. Time passes quick- 
 ly in this kind of talk. The evening drew nigh. Yvon had 
 forgotten the horse and the mountain, and Finette was obliged 
 to send him away, advising him to bring back the animal be- 
 fore his master's arrival. 
 
 Yvon took down the bit that was hidden behind the stable- 
 door, and hastened to the mountain, when lo ! a horse almost 
 as large as an elephant rushed toward him at full gallop, 
 
Yvon and Finette. 
 
 53 
 
 breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils. Yvon firmly 
 awaited the huge animal, and, the moment he opened his enor- 
 mous jaws, thrust between them the bit ; when lo ! the horse 
 instantly became as gentle as a lamb. Yvon made him kneel 
 down, sprang on his back, and tranquilly returned home. 
 
 His task finished, Yvon seated himself on the bench before 
 the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant coming, 
 he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began to sing 
 one of his native airs. 
 
 " Have you brought back the horse ?" asked the giant, with 
 a frown. 
 
 " Yes, master," answered Yvon, without taking the trouble 
 to move. " He is a fine animal, and does you credit. He is 
 
54 Fairy Book. 
 
 gentle, well trained, and as quiet as a lamb. He is feeding 
 yonder in the stable." 
 
 " I am going to see for myself," howled the giant. He en- 
 tered the stable grumbling, found every thing in order, and 
 came out furious. 
 
 " You have seen my Finette," said he ; " this trick did not 
 come from your own head." 
 
 " Oh, master," returned Yvon, opening his mouth and shut- 
 ting his eyes, " it is the same story over again. What is this 
 myfinette ? Once for all, show me this monster." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, fool," returned the giant ; " you will 
 see her sooner than you will want to." 
 
 The third day at dawn the giant gathered his sheep together 
 to lead them to the pasture ; but, before setting out, he said 
 to Yvon, 
 
 " To-day you must go to the bottomless pit to collect my 
 rent. After that," continued he, bursting into a laugh, " you 
 may rest all day long. You see that I am a good master." 
 
 " A good master, so be it," murmured Yvon, " but the task 
 is none the less hard. I will go and see my Finette, as the 
 giant says ; I have great need of her help to get through to- 
 day's business." 
 
 When Finette had learned what was the task of the day, 
 " Well," said she, " how will you go to work to do it ?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Yvon, sadly ; " I have never been to 
 the bottomless pit, and, even if I knew the way there, I should 
 not know what to ask for. Tell me what to do." 
 
 " Do you see that great rock yonder ?" said Finette ; " that 
 is one of the gates of the bottomless pit. Take this stick, 
 knock three times on the stone, and a demon will come out 
 all streaming with flames, who will ask you how much you 
 want. Take care to answer, ' No more than I can carry.' " 
 
 " I will obey," said Yvon ; upon which he took a seat by 
 
Yvon and Finette. 55 
 
 the side of Finette, and began to talk with her. He would 
 have been there till this time if the young girl had not sent 
 him to the great rock, when the evening drew nigh, to execute 
 the giant's commands. 
 
 On reaching the spot pointed out to him, Yvon found a 
 great block of granite. He struck it three times with the 
 stick, when lo ! the rock opened, and a demon came forth all 
 streaming with flames. 
 
 " What do you want ?" he cried. 
 
 " I have come for the giant's rent," answered Yvon, calmly. 
 
 " How much do you want ?" 
 
 " I never want any more than I can carry," replied the 
 Breton. 
 
 "It is well for you that you do not," returned the man 
 in flames. " Enter this cavern, and you will find what you 
 want." 
 
 Yvon entered, and opened his eyes wide. Every where he 
 saw nothing but gold, silver, diamonds, carbuncles, and emer- 
 alds. They were as numerous as the sands on the sea-shore. 
 The young Kerver filled a sack, threw it across his shoulder, 
 and tranquilly returned home. 
 
 His task finished, our Breton seated himself on the bench 
 before the door of the house. As soon as he saw the giant 
 coming, he lolled back in his seat, crossed his legs, and began 
 to sing one of his native airs. 
 
 " Have you been to the bottomless pit to collect my rent ?" 
 asked the giant, with a frown. 
 
 " Yes, master," answered Yvon, without taking the trouble 
 to stir. " The sack is there right before your eyes ; you can 
 count it." 
 
 " I am going to see for myself," howled the giant He un- 
 tied the strings of the sack, which was so full that the gold 
 and silver rolled in all directions. 
 
56 Fairy Book. 
 
 " You have seen my Finette," he cried ; " this trick did not 
 come from your own head." 
 
 " Don't you know but one song," said Yvon, opening his 
 mouth and shutting his eyes. " It is the old story, myfinette, 
 myfinette. Once for all, show me this thing." 
 
 " Well, well," roared the giant with fury, " wait till to-mor- 
 row, and you shall make her acquaintance." 
 
 " Thank you, master," said Yvon. " It is very good of you ; 
 but I see from your face that you are laughing at me." 
 
 III. 
 
 THE next morning the giant went out without giving Yvon 
 any orders, which troubled Finette. At noon he returned 
 without his flock, complaining of the heat and fatigue, and 
 said to the young girl, 
 
 " You will find a child, my servant, at the door. Cut his 
 throat, put him into the great pot to boil, and call me when 
 the broth is ready." Saying this, he stretched himself on the 
 bed to take a nap, and was soon snoring so loud that it seem- 
 ed like thunder shaking the mountains. 
 
 Finette prepared a log of wood, took a large knife, and 
 called Yvon. She pricked his little finger; three drops of 
 blood fell on the log. 
 
 " That is enough," said Finette ; " now help me to fill the 
 pot." 
 
 They threw into it all that they could find old clothes, old 
 shoes, old carpets, and every thing else. Finette then took 
 Yvon by the hand, and led him through the three ante-cham- 
 bers, where she ran in a mould three bullets of gold, two bul- 
 lets of silver, and one bullet of copper, after which they quit- 
 ted the house and ran toward the sea. 
 
 " On the Kerver /" cried Yvon, as soon as he saw himself 
 
Yvon and Finette. 57 
 
 in the country. " Explain yourself, dear Finette j what farce 
 are we playing now ?" 
 
 " Let us run let us run !" she cried ; " if we do not quit 
 this wretched island before night, it is all over with us." 
 
 "On the KerverT replied Yvon, laughing, "and down 
 with the giant !" 
 
 When he had snored a full hour, the giant stretched his 
 limbs, half opened one eye, and cried, " Is it ready ?" 
 
 " It is just beginning to boil," answered the first drop of 
 blood on the log. 
 
 The giant turned over, and snored louder than ever for an 
 hour or two longer. Then he stretched his limbs, half opened 
 one eye, and cried out, " Do you hear me ? Is it almost 
 ready ?" 
 
 " It is half done," answered the second drop of blood on 
 the log. 
 
 The giant turned over, and slept an hour longer. Then he 
 yawned, stretched his great limbs, and cried out impatiently, 
 
 " Isn't it ready yet ?" 
 
 " It is ready now," answered the third drop of blood on the 
 log. 
 
 The giant sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes, and looked around 
 to see who had spoken ; but it was in vain to look ; he saw 
 nobody. 
 
 "Finette," howled he, "why isn't the table set?" 
 
 There was no answer. The giant, furious, sprang out of 
 bed, seized a ladle, which looked like a caldron with a pitch- 
 fork for a handle, and plunged it into the pot to taste the soup. 
 
 " Finette !" howled he, " you haven't salted it. What sort 
 of a soup is this ? I see neither meat nor vegetables." 
 
 No ; but, in return, he saw his carpet, which had not quite 
 all boiled to pieces. At this sight he fell into such a fit of 
 rage that he could not keep his feet. 
 
 C2 
 
58 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Villains !" said he, " you have played a fine trick on me ; 
 but you shall pay for it." 
 
 He rushed out with a stick in his hand, and strode along 
 at such a rate that in a quarter of an hour he discovered the 
 two fugitives still far from the sea-shore. He uttered such a 
 cry of joy that the earth shook for twelve leagues around. 
 
 Finette stopped, trembling. Yvon clasped her to his heart, 
 
 "On the Kerver!" said he; "the sea is not far off; we 
 shall be there before our enemy." 
 
 " Here he is ! here he is !" cried Finette, pointing to the 
 giant not a hundred yards off; " we are lost if this charm does 
 not save us." 
 
 She took the copper bullet and threw it on the ground, 
 saying, 
 
 " Copper bullet, save us, pray, 
 Stop the giant on his way." 
 
 And behold, the earth cracked apart with a terrific noise, 
 and an enormous fissure, a bottomless pit, stopped the giant 
 just as he was stretching out his hand to seize his prey. 
 
 " Let us fly !" cried Finette, grasping the arm of Yvon, who 
 Was gazing at the giant with a swaggering air, defying him to 
 come on. 
 
 The giant ran backward and forward along the abyss like 
 a bear in his cage, seeking a passage every where and finding 
 none ; then, with a furious jerk, he tore up an immense oak 
 by the roots, and flung it across the gap. The branches of 
 the oak nearly crushed the children as it fell. The giant 
 seated himself astride the huge tree, which bent under his- 
 weight, and crept slowly along, suspended between heaven 
 and earth, entangled as he was among the branches. When 
 he reached the other side, Yvon and Finette were already on 
 the -shore, with the sea rolling before them. 
 
 Alas ! there was neither bark nor ship. The fugitives were 
 
Yvon and Finette. 
 
 59 
 
 lost. Yvon, always brave, picked up stones to attack the 
 giant, and to sell his life dearly. Finette, trembling with fear, 
 threw one of the silver bullets into the sea, saying, 
 
 " Silver bullet, bright and pliant, 
 Save us from this frightful giant." 
 
 Scarcely had she spoken the magic words when a beautiful 
 ship rose from the waves like a swan spreading its white wings. 
 Yvon and Finette plunged 
 into the sea ; Xa rope was 
 thrown them by an invisible 
 hand ; and when the furious 
 giant reached the shore, the 
 ship was receding rapidly at 
 full sail, leaving behind it a 
 long furrow of shining foam. 
 
 Giants do not like the wa- 
 ter. This fact is certified to 
 by old Homer, who knew 
 Polyphemus ; and the same 
 observation will be found in 
 all natural histories worthy 
 of the name. Finette's mas- 
 ter resembled Polyphemus. 
 He roared with rage when 
 he saw his slaves about to 
 escape him. He ran hesi- 
 tatingly along the shore ; he 
 flung huge masses of rock 
 after the vessel, which hap- 
 pily fell by the side of it, and 
 only made great black holes 
 in the water ; and, finally, 
 mad with anger, he plunged 
 
60 Fairy Book. 
 
 head foremost into the sea, and began to swim after the ship 
 with frightful speed. At each stroke he advanced forty feet, 
 blowing like a whale, and like a whale cleaving the waves. 
 By degrees he gained on his enemies ; one more effort would 
 bring him within reach of the rudder, and already he was 
 stretching out his arm to seize it, when Finette threw the sec- 
 ond silver bullet into the sea, and cried, in tears, 
 
 " Silver bullet, bright and pliant, 
 Save us from this frightful giant." 
 
 Suddenly from the midst of the foam darted forth a gi- 
 gantic sword fish, with a sword at least twenty feet in length. 
 It rushed straight toward the giant, "who scarcely had time to 
 dive, chased him under the water, pursued him on the top of 
 the waves, followed him closely whichever way he turned, and 
 forced him to flee as fast as he could to his island, where he 
 finally landed with the greatest difficulty, and fell upon the 
 shore dripping, worn out, and conquered. 
 
 " On the Kerver T cried Yvon ; " we are saved." 
 
 " Not yet," said Finette, trembling. " The giant has a witch 
 for a^ godmother ; I fear that she will revenge on me the in- 
 sult offered to her godson. My art tells me, my dear Yvon, 
 that if you quit me a single instant until you give me your 
 name in the chapel of the Kervers, I have every thing to 
 dread." 
 
 " By the unicorn of my ancestors," cried Yvon, " you have 
 the heart of a hare and not of a hero ! Am I not here ? Am 
 I going to abandon you? Do you believe that Providence 
 has saved us from the fangs of that monster to wreck us in 
 port?" 
 
 He laughed so gayly that Finette laughed in turn at the 
 terror that had seized her. 
 
Yvon and Finette. 61 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE rest of the voyage passed off admirably. An invisible 
 hand seemed to impel the ship onward. Twenty days after 
 their departure the boat landed Yvon and Finette near Ker- 
 ver Castle. Once on shore, Yvon turned to thank the crew. 
 No one was there. Both boat and ship had vanished under 
 the waves, leaving no trace behind but a gull on the wing. 
 
 Yvon recognized the spot where he had so often gathered 
 shells and chased the crabs to their holes when a child. 
 Half an hour's walk would bring him in sight of the towers 
 of the old castle. His heart beat ; he looked tenderly at 
 Finette, and saw, for the first time, that her dress was fan- 
 tastic, and unworthy of a woman about to enter the noble 
 house of Kerver. 
 
 " My dear child," said he, " the baron, my father, is a no- 
 ble lord, accustomed to be treated with respect. I can not 
 introduce you to him in this gipsy dress ; neither is it fitting 
 that you should enter our great castle on foot like a peasant. 
 Wait for me a few moments, and I will bring you a horse and 
 one of my sister's dresses. I wish you to be received like a 
 lady of high degree. I wish my father himself to meet you 
 on your arrival, and hold it an honor to give you his hand." 
 
 " Yvon, Yvon," cried Finette, " do not quit me, I beg you. 
 Once returned to your castle, I know that you will forget me." 
 
 " Forget you !" exclaimed Yvon. " If any one else were to 
 offer me such an insult, I would teach him with my sword to 
 suspect a Kerver. Forget you, my Finette ! you do not know 
 the fidelity of a Breton." 
 
 That the Bretons are faithful, no one doubts ; but that they 
 are still more headstrong is a justice that none will deny 
 
62 Fairy Book. 
 
 them. It was useless for poor Finette to plead in her most 
 loving tones ; she was forced to yield. She resigned herself 
 with a heavy heart, and said to Yvon, 
 
 " Go without me, then, to your castle, but only stay long 
 enough to speak to your friends ; then go straight to the sta- 
 ble, and return as soon as possible. You will be surrounded 
 by people ; act as if you saw no one, and, above all, do not 
 eat or drink any thing whatever. Should you take only a 
 glass of water, evil would come upon us both." 
 
 Yvon promised and swore all that Finette asked, but he 
 smiled in his heart at this feminine weakness. He was sure 
 of himself; and he thought with pride how different a Breton 
 was from those fickle Frenchmen, whose words, they say, are 
 borne away by the first breath of the wind. 
 
 6n entering the old castle he could scarcely recognize its 
 dark walls. All the windows were festooned with leaves and 
 flowers within and without ; the court-yard was strewn with 
 fragrant grass ; on one side were spread tables groaning un- 
 der their weight ; on the other, musicians, mounted on casks, 
 were playing merry airs. The vassals, dressed in their holi- 
 day attire, were singing and dancing, and dancing and sing- 
 ing. It was a great day of rejoicing at the castle. The baron 
 himself was smiling. It is true that he had just married his 
 fifth daughter to the Knight of Kervalec. This marriage 
 added another quartering to the illustrious escutcheon of the 
 Kervers. 
 
 Yvon, recognized and welcomed by all the crowd, was in- 
 stantly surrounded by his relatives, who embraced him and 
 shook him by the hand. Where had he been? Where did 
 he come from ? Had he conquered a kingdom, a duchy, or a 
 barony? Had he brought the bride the jewels of some queen ? 
 Had the fairies protected him? How many rivals had he 
 overthrown? All these questions were showered upon him 
 
Yvon and Finette. 63 
 
 without reply. Yvon respectfully kissed his father's hand, 
 hastened to his sisters' chamber, took two of their finest 
 dresses, went to the stable, saddled a pony, mounted a beau- 
 tiful Spanish jennet, and was about to quit the castle, when 
 he found his relatives, friends, squires, and vassals all stand- 
 ing in his way, their glasses in their hands, ready to drink 
 their young lord's health and his safe return. 
 
 Yvon gracefully thanked them, bowed, and made his way 
 by degrees through the crowd, when, just as he was about to 
 cross the draw-bridge, a fair-haired lady, with a haughty and 
 disdainful air, a stranger to him, a sister of the bridegroom, 
 perhaps, approached him, holding a pomegranate in her hand. 
 
 " My handsome knight," said she, with a singular smile, 
 "you surely will not refuse a lady's first request. Taste this 
 pomegranate, I entreat you. If you are neither hungry nor 
 thirsty after so long a journey, I suppose at least that you 
 have not forgotten the laws of politeness." 
 
 Yvon dared not refuse this appeal. He was very wrong. 
 Scarcely had he tasted the pomegranate when he looked 
 round him like a man waking from a dream. 
 
 " What am I doing on this horse ?" thought he. " What 
 means this 'pony that I am leading ? Is not my place in my 
 father's house at my sister's wedding ? Why should I quit 
 the castle ?" 
 
 He threw the bridle to one of the grooms, leaped lightly to 
 the ground, and offered his hand to the fair-haired lady, who 
 accepted him as her attendant on the spot, and gave him her 
 bouquet to hold as a special mark of favor. 
 
 Before the evening was over there was another betrothed 
 couple in the castle. Yvon had pledged his faith to the un- 
 known lady, and Finette was forgotten. 
 
64 Fairy Book. 
 
 V. 
 
 POOR Finette, seated on the sea-shore, waited all day long 
 for Yvon, but Yvon did not come. The sun was setting in 
 the fiery waves, when Finette rose, sighing, and took the way 
 to the castle in her turn. She had not walked long in a steep 
 road, bordered with thorn trees in blossom, when she found 
 herself in front of a wretched hut, at the door of which stood 
 an old woman about to milk her cow. Finette approached 
 her, and, making a low courtesy, begged a shelter for the 
 night. 
 
 The old woman looked at the stranger from head to foot. 
 With her buskins trimmed with fur, her full red petticoat, her 
 blue jacket edged with jet, and her diadem, Finette looked 
 more like an Egyptian princess than a Christian. The old 
 woman frowned, and, shaking her fist in the face of the poor 
 forsaken girl, " Begone, witch !" she cried , " there is no room 
 for you in this honest house." 
 
 " My good mother," said Finette, " give me only a corner 
 of the stable." 
 
 " Oh," said the old woman, laughing, and showing the only 
 tooth she had left, which projected from her mouth like a 
 bear's tusk, " so you want a corner of the stable, do you ! 
 Well, you shall have it, if you will fill my milk-pail with gold." 
 
 "It is a bargain," said Finette, quietly. She opened a 
 leather purse which she wore at her belt, took from it a 
 golden bullet, and threw it into the milk-pail, saying, 
 
 " Golden bullet, precious treasure, 
 Save me, if it be thy pleasure." 
 
 And behold, the pieces of gold began to dance about in the 
 pail ; they rose higher and higher, flapping about like fish in 
 
Yvon and Finette. 65 
 
 a net, while the old woman on her knees gazed with wonder 
 at the sight. 
 
 When the pail was full the old woman rose, put her arm 
 through the handle, and said to Finette, " Madam, all is yours, 
 the house, the cow, and every thing else. Hurrah ! I am 
 going to the town to live like a lady with nothing to do. Oh 
 dear, how I wish I were only sixty !" And, shaking her crutch, 
 without looking backward, she set out on a run toward Kerver 
 Castle. 
 
 Finette entered the house. It was a wretched hovel, dark, 
 low, damp, bad-smelling, and full of dust and spiders' webs 
 a horrible refuge for a woman accustomed to living in the gi- 
 ant's grand castle. Without seeming troubled, Finette went 
 to the hearth, on which a few green boughs were smoking, 
 took another golden bullet from her purse, and threw it into 
 the fire, saying, 
 
 " Golden bullet, precious treasure, 
 Save me, if it be thy pleasure." 
 
 The gold melted, bubbled up, and spread all over the house 
 like running water, and behold ! the whole cottage, the walls, 
 the thatch, the wooden rocking-chair, the stool, the chest, the 
 bed, the cow's horns, every thing, even to the spiders in their 
 webs, was turned to gold. The house gleamed in the moon- 
 light, among the trees, like a star in the night. 
 
 When Finette had milked the cow and drank a little new 
 milk, she threw herself on the bed without undressing, and, 
 worn out by the fatigue of the day, fell asleep in the midst of 
 her tears. 
 
 Old women do not know how to hold their tongues, at least 
 in Brittany. Finette's hostess had scarcely reached the vil- 
 lage when she hastened to the house of the steward. He 
 was an important personage, who had more than once made 
 her tremble when she had driven her cow into her neighbor's 
 
66 Fairy Book. 
 
 pasture by mistake. The steward listened to the old woman's 
 story, shook his head, and said that it looked like witchcraft ; 
 then he mysteriously brought a pair of scales, weighed the 
 guineas, which he found to be genuine and of full weight, 
 kept as many of them as he could, and advised the owner to 
 tell no one of this strange adventure. " If it should come to 
 the ears of the bailiff or the seneschal," said he, " the least 
 that would happen to you, mother, would be to lose every one 
 of these beautiful bright guineas. Justice is impartial; it 
 knows neither favor nor repugnance ; it takes the whole." 
 
 The old woman thanked the steward for his advice, and 
 promised to follow it. She kept her word so well that she 
 only told her story that evening to two neighbors, her dearest 
 friends, both of whom swore on the heads of their little chil- 
 dren to keep it secret. The oath was a solemn one, and so 
 well kept that at noon the next day there was not a boy of six 
 in the village that did not point his finger at the old woman, 
 while the very dogs seemed to bark in their language, " Here 
 is the old woman with her guineas !" 
 
 A girl that amuses herself by filling milk-pails with gold is 
 not to be found every day. Even though she should be some- 
 thing of a witch, such a girl would none the less be a treasure 
 in a family. The steward, who was a bachelor, made this 
 wise reflection that night on going to bed. Before dawn he 
 rose to make his rounds in the direction of the stranger's cot- 
 tage. By the first gleam of day he spied something shining 
 in the distance like a light among the woods. On reaching 
 the place, he was greatly surprised to find a golden cottage 
 instead of the wretched hut that had stood there the day be- 
 fore. But, on entering the house, he was much more surprised 
 and delighted to find a beautiful young girl, with raven hair, 
 sitting by the window, and spinning on her distaff with the air 
 of an empress. 
 
Yvon and Finette. 67 
 
 Like all men, the steward did himself justice, and knew, 
 at the bottom of his heart, that there was not a woman in the 
 world that would not be too happy to give him her hand. 
 Without hesitating, therefore, he declared to Finette that he 
 had come to marry her. The young girl burst out laughing, 
 upon which the steward flew into a passion. 
 
 " Take care !" said he, in a terrible voice ; " I am the mas- 
 ter here. No one knows who you are or whence you came. 
 The gold that you gave the old woman has raised suspi- 
 cions. There is magic in this house. If you do not accept 
 me for a husband this very instant, I will arrest you, and 
 before night, perhaps, a witch will be burned before Kerver 
 Castle." 
 
 "You are very amiable," said Finette, with a charming 
 grimace ; " you have a peculiar way of paying court to ladies. 
 Even when they have decided not to refuse, a gallant man 
 spares their blushes." 
 
 "We Bretons are plain-spoken people," replied the stew- 
 ard ; " we go straight to the point. Marriage or prison, which 
 do you choose ?" 
 
 " Oh !" cried Finette, laying down the distaff, " there are 
 the firebrands falling all over the room." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself," said the steward, " I will pick 
 them up." 
 
 " Lay them carefully on the top of the ashes," returned 
 Finette. " Have you the tongs ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the steward, picking up the crackling coals. 
 
 " Abracadabra /" cried Finette, rising. " Villain, may the 
 tongs hold you, and may you hold the tongs till sunset !" 
 
 No sooner said than done. The wicked steward stood 
 there all day with the tongs in his hand, picking up and throw- 
 ing back the burning coals that snapped in his face, and the 
 hot ashes that flew into his eyes. It was useless for him to 
 
68 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 shout, pray, weep, and bias- 
 pheme ; no one heard him. If 
 Finette had staid at home, she 
 would doubtless have taken pity 
 on him; but, after putting the 
 spell upon him, she hastened to 
 the sea-shore, where, forgetting 
 every thing else, she watched for 
 Yvon in vain. 
 
 The moment that the sun set, 
 the tongs fell from the steward's 
 hands. He did not stop to fin- 
 ish his errand, but ran as if the devil or justice were at his 
 heels. He made such leaps, he uttered such groans, he was 
 so blackened, scorched, and benumbed, that every one in the 
 village was afraid of him, thinking that he was mad. The 
 boldest tried to speak to him, but he fled without answering, 
 and hid himself in his house, more ashamed than a wolf that 
 has left his paw in the trap. 
 
 At evening, when Finette returned home in despair, instead 
 of the steward, she found another visitor little less formidable. 
 The bailiff had heard the story of the guineas, and had also 
 made up his mind to marry the stranger. He was not rough, 
 like the steward, but a fat, good-natured man, that could not 
 speak without bursting into a laugh, showing his great yellow 
 teeth, and puffing and blowing like an ox, though at heart he 
 was not less obstinate or less threatening than his predeces- 
 sor. Finette entreated the bailiff to leave her alone. He 
 laughed, and hinted to her, in a good-natured way, that, by 
 right of his office, he had the power to imprison and hang peo- 
 ple without process of law. She clasped her hands, and beg- 
 ged him with tears to go. For his only answer, he took a roll 
 of parchment from his pocket, wrote on it a contract of mar- 
 
Yvon and Finette. 69 
 
 riage, and declared to Finette that, should he stay all night, 
 he would not leave the house till she had signed the promise. 
 
 " Nevertheless," said he, " if you do not like my person, I 
 have another parchment here on which I will write an agree- 
 ment to live apart ; and if my sight annoys you, you have only 
 to shut your eyes." 
 
 . " Why," said Finette, " I might decide to do as you wish if 
 I were sure of finding a good husband in you ; but I am 
 afraid." 
 
 " Of what, my dear child ?" asked the bailiff, smiling, and 
 already as proud as a peacock. 
 
 " Do you think," said she, with a pettish air, " that a good 
 husband would leave that door wide open, and not know that 
 his wife was freezing with cold ?" 
 
 "You are right, my dear," said the bailiff; "it was very 
 stupid in me. I will go and shut it." 
 
 " Have you hold of the knob ?" asked Finette. 
 
 "Yes, my charmer," answered the happy bailiff; "I am 
 just shutting the door." 
 
 " Abracadabra /" cried Finette. "May you hold the door, 
 villain, and may the door hold you till daybreak." 
 
 And behold, the door opened and shut, and slammed 
 against the walls like an eagle flapping its wings. You may 
 judge what a dance the poor captive kept up all night. Never 
 had he tried such a waltz, and I imagine that he never wished 
 to dance a second one of the same sort. Sometimes the door 
 swung open with him in the street ; sometimes it flew back 
 and crushed him against the wall. He swung backward and 
 forward, screaming, swearing, weeping, and praying, but all in 
 vain ; the door was deaf, and Finette asleep. 
 
 At daybreak his hands unclasped, and he fell in the road 
 head foremost. Without waiting to finish his errand, he ran 
 as if the Moors were after him. He did not even turn round, 
 
70 . Fairy Book. 
 
 for fear that the door might be at his heels. Fortunately for 
 him, all were still asleep when he reached the village, and he 
 could hide himself in bed without any one seeing his deplor- 
 able plight. This was a great piece of good fortune for him, 
 for he was covered with whitewash from head to foot, and so 
 pale, haggard, and trembling that he might have been taken 
 for the ghost of a miller escaped from the infernal regions. 
 
 When Finette opened her eyes, she saw by her bedside a 
 tall man dressed in black, with a velvet cap and a sword. It 
 was the seneschal of the barony of Kerver. He stood with 
 his arms folded, gazing at Finette in a way that chilled the 
 very marrow of her bones. 
 
 " What is your name, vassal ?" said he, in a voice of thun- 
 der. 
 
 " Finette, at your service, my lord," replied she, trembling. 
 
 " Is this house and furniture yours ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord, every thing, at your service." 
 
 " I mean that it shall be at my service," returned the sen- 
 eschal, sternly. " Rise, vassal ! I do you the honor to marry 
 you, and to take yourself, your person, and your property un- 
 der my guardianship." 
 
 "My lord," returned Finette, "this is much too great an 
 honor for a poor girl like me, a stranger, without friends or 
 kindred." 
 
 " Be silent, vassal !" replied the seneschal. "I am your lord 
 and master; I have nothing to do with your advice. Sign 
 this paper." 
 
 " My lord," said Finette, " I don't know how to write." 
 
 " Do you think that I do, either ?" returned the seneschal, 
 in a voice that ; shook the house. " Do you take me for a 
 clerk? A cross that is the signature of gentlemen." 
 
 He made a large cross on the paper, and handed the pen 
 to Finette. 
 
Yvon and Finette. 
 
 " Sign," said he. " If you are afraid to make a cross, in- 
 fidel, you pass your own death sentence, and I shall take on 
 myself to execute it." He drew his heavy sword from the 
 scabbard as he spoke, and threw it on the table. 
 
 For her only answer, Finette leaped out of the window, and 
 ran to the stable. The seneschal pursued her thither ; but, 
 on attempting to enter, an unexpected obstacle stopped him. 
 The frightened cow had backed at the sight of the young girl, 
 and stood in the doorway with Finette clinging to her horns, 
 and making of her a sort of buckler. 
 
 "You shall not escape 
 me, sorceress !" cried the 
 seneschal, and, with a grasp 
 like that of Hercules, he 
 seized the cow by the tail, 
 and dragged her out of the 
 stable. 
 
 "Abracadabra /" cried 
 Finette. "May the cow's 
 
 tail hold you, villain, and 
 may you hold the cow's tail 
 till you have both been 
 
 around the world togeth- 
 
 And behold, the cow 
 darted off like lightning, 
 dragging the unhappy 
 seneschal after her. No- 
 thing stopped the two 
 inseparable comrades ; 
 they rushed over mount- 
 ains and valleys, crossed 
 marshes, rivers, quag- 
 
72 Fairy Book. 
 
 mires, and brakes, glided over the seas without sinking, were 
 frozen in Siberia and scorched in Africa, climbed the Hima- 
 layas, descended Mont Blanc, and at length, after thirty-six 
 hours of a journey, the like of which had never been seen, 
 both stopped out of breath in the public square of the vil- 
 lage. 
 
 A seneschal harnessed to a cow's tail is a sight not to be 
 seen every day; and all the peasants in the neighborhood 
 crowded together to wonder at the spectacle. But, torn as 
 he was by the cactuses of Barbary and the thickets of Tartary, 
 the seneschal had lost nothing of his haughty air. With a 
 threatening gesture, he dispersed the rabble, and limped to 
 his house to taste the repose of which he began to feel the 
 need. 
 
 VI. 
 
 WHILE the steward, the bailiff, and the seneschal were ex- 
 periencing these little unpleasantnesses, of which they did not 
 think it proper to boast, preparations were being made for a 
 great event at Kerver Castle, namely, the marriage of Yvon 
 and the fair haired lady. Two days had passed in these prep- 
 arations, and all the friends of the family had gathered to- 
 gether for twenty leagues round, when, one fine morning 
 Yvon and his bride, with the Baron and Baroness Kerver, 
 took their seats in a great carriage adorned with flowers, and 
 set out for the celebrated church of St. Maclou. 
 
 A hundred knights, in full armor, mounted on horses decked 
 with ribbons, rode on each side of the betrothed couple, each 
 with his vizor raised and his lance at rest in token of honor. 
 By the side of each baron, a squire, also on horseback, carried 
 the seigniorial banner. At the head of the procession rode 
 the seneschal, with a gilded staff in his hand. Behind the 
 carriage gravely walked the bailiff, followed by the vassals, 
 
Yvon and Finette. 73 
 
 while the steward railed at the serfs, a noisy and curious 
 rabble. 
 
 As they were crossing a brook, a league from the castle, 
 one of the traces of the carriage broke, and they were forced 
 to stop. The accident repaired, the coachman cracked his 
 whip, and the horses started with such force that the new 
 trace broke in three pieces. Six times this provoking piece 
 of wood was replaced, and six times it broke anew, without 
 drawing the carriage from the hole where it was wedged. 
 
 Every one had a word of advice to offer ; even the peas- 
 ants, as wheelwrights and carpenters, were not the last to 
 make a show of their knowledge* This gave the steward 
 courage ; he approached the baron, took off his cap, and, 
 scratching his head, 
 
 " My lord," said he, " in the house that you see shining yon- 
 der among the trees, there lives a woman who does things 
 such as nobody else can do. Only persuade her to lend you 
 her tongs, and, in my opinion, they will hold till morning." 
 
 The baron made a sign, and ten peasants ran to the cot- 
 tage of Finette, who very obligingly lent them her gold tongs. 
 They were put in the place of the trace ; the coachman crack- 
 ed his whip, and off went the carriage like a feather. 
 
 Every one rejoiced, but the joy did not last long. A hund- 
 red steps farther, lo ! the bottom of the carriage gave* way ; 
 little more, and the noble Kerver family would have sunk 
 quite out of sight. The wheelwrights and the carpenters 
 set to work at once \ they sawed planks, nailed them down 
 fast, and in the twinkling of an eye repaired the accident. 
 The coachman cracked his whip, and the horses started, 
 when behold ! half of the carriage was left behind ; the Bar- 
 oness Kerver sat motionless by the side of the bride, while 
 Yvon and the baron were carried off at full gallop. Here 
 was a new difficulty. Three times was the carriage mended, 
 
 D 
 
74 Fairy Book. 
 
 three times it broke anew. There was every reason to be- 
 lieve that it was enchanted. 
 
 Every one had a word of advice to offer. This gave the 
 bailiff courage. He approached the baron, and said, in a low 
 tone, 
 
 " My lord, in the house that you see shining yonder among 
 the trees, there lives a woman who does things such as no- 
 body else can do. Only persuade her to lend you her door 
 for the bottom of the carriage, and, in my opinion, it will hold 
 till morning." 
 
 The baron made a sign, and twenty peasants ran to the 
 cottage of Finette, who very obligingly lent them her gold 
 door. They put it in the bottom of the carriage, where it fit- 
 ted as if it had been made expressly for it. The party took 
 their seats in the carriage, the coachman cracked his whip, 
 the church was in sight, and all the troubles of the journey 
 seemed ended. 
 
 Not at all ! Suddenly the horses stopped, and refused to 
 draw. There were four of them. Six, eight, ten, twenty-four 
 more were put to the carriage, but all in vain ; it was impos- 
 sible to stir them. The more they were whipped, the deeper 
 the wheels sunk into the ground like the coulter of a plow. 
 
 What were they to do ? To go on foot would have been a 
 disgrace. To mount a horse, and ride to the church like sim- 
 ple peasants, was not the custom of the Kervers. They tried 
 to lift the carriage, they pushed the wheels, they shook it, they 
 pulled it, but all in vain. Meanwhile the day was declining, 
 and the hour for the marriage had passed. 
 
 Every one had a word of advice to offer. This gave the 
 seneschal courage. He approached the baron, alighted from 
 his horse, raised his velvet cap, and said, 
 
 " My lord, in the house that you see shining yonder among 
 the trees, there lives a woman who does things such as nobody 
 
Yvon and Finette. 75 
 
 else can do. Only persuade her to lend you her cow to draw 
 the carriage, and, in my opinion, she will draw it till morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The baron made a sign, and thirty peasants ran to the cot- 
 tage of Finette, who very obligingly lent them her golden- 
 horned cow. 
 
 To go to church drawn by a cow was not, perhaps, what the 
 ambitious bride had dreamed of, but it was better than to re- 
 main unmarried in the road. The heifer was harnessed, there- 
 fore, before the four horses, and every body looked on anx- 
 iously to see what this boasted animal would do. 
 
 But, before the coachman had time to crack his whip, lo ! 
 the cow started off as if she were about to go around the 
 world anew. Horses, carriage, baron, betrothed, coachman, 
 all were hurried away by the furious animal. In vain the 
 knights spurred their horses to follow the pair ; in vain the 
 peasants ran at full speed, taking the cross-road and cutting 
 across the meadows. The carriage flew as if it had wings ; a 
 pigeon could not have followed it. 
 
 On reaching the door of the church, the party, a little dis- 
 turbed by this rapid journey, would not have been sorry to 
 alight. Every thing was ready for the ceremony, and the 
 bridal pair had long been expected ; but, instead of stopping, 
 the cow redoubled her speed. Thirteen times she ran round 
 the church like lightning, then suddenly made her way in a 
 straight line across the fields to the castle, with such force that 
 the whole party were almost shaken to pieces before their ar- 
 rival. 
 
 VII. 
 
 No more marriage was to be thought of for that day ; but 
 the tables were set and the dinner served, and the Baron 
 Server was too noble a knight to take leave of his brave 
 
76 Fairy Book. 
 
 Bretons until they had eaten and drank according to custom 
 that is, from sunset till sunrise, and even a little later. 
 
 Orders were given for the guests to take their seats. Nine- 
 ty-six tables were ranged in eight rows. In front of them, on 
 a large platform covered with velvet, with a canopy in the 
 middle, was a table larger than the rest, and loaded with fruit 
 and flowers, to say nothing of the roast hares, and the pea- 
 cocks smoking beneath their plumage. At this table the 
 bridal pair were to have been seated in full sight, in order 
 that nothing might be lacking to the pleasures of the feast, 
 and that the meanest peasant might have the honor of salut- 
 ing them by emptying his cup of hydromel to the honor and 
 prosperity of the high and mighty house of Kerver. 
 
 The baron seated the hundred knights at his table, and 
 placed their squires behind their chairs to serve them. At 
 his right he put the bride and Yvon, but he left the seat at his 
 left vacant, and, calling a page, " Child," said he, " run to the 
 house of the stranger lady who obliged us only too much this 
 morning. It was not her fault if her success exceeded her 
 good will. Tell her that the Baron Kerver thanks her for 
 her help, and invites her to the wedding feast of his son Lord 
 Yvon." 
 
 On reaching the golden house, where Finette in tears was 
 mourning for her beloved, the page bent one knee to the 
 ground, and, in the baron's name, invited the stranger lady to 
 the castle to do honor to the wedding of Lord Yvon. 
 
 " Thank your master for me," answered the young girl, 
 proudly, " and tell him that if he is too noble to come to my 
 house, I am too noble to go to his." 
 
 When the page repeated this answer to his master, the Bar- 
 on Kerver struck the table such a blow that three plates flew 
 in the air. 
 
 " By my honor," said he, " this is spoken like a lady, and, 
 
Yvon and Finette. 77 
 
 for the first time, I own myself beaten. Quick, saddle my 
 dun mare, and let my knights and squires prepare to attend 
 me." 
 
 It was with this brilliant train that the baron alighted at 
 the door of the golden cottage. He begged Finette's pardon, 
 held the stirrup for her, and seated her behind him on his 
 own horse, neither more nor less than a duchess in person. 
 Through respect, he did not speak a single word to her on 
 the way. On reaching the castle, he uncovered his head, and 
 led her to the seat of honor that he had chosen for her. 
 
 The baron's departure had made a great excitement, and 
 his return caused still greater surprise. Every one asked who 
 the lady could be that the baron treated with such respect. 
 Judging from her costume, she was a foreigner ; could she be 
 the Duchess of Normandy or the Queen of France? The 
 steward, the bailiff, and the seneschal were appealed to. The 
 steward trembled, the bailiff turned pale, and the seneschal 
 blushed, but all three were as mute as fishes. The silence of 
 these important personages added to the general wonder. 
 
 All eyes were fixed on Finette, who felt a deadly chill at 
 her heart, for Yvon saw, but did not know her. He cast an 
 indifferent glance at her, then began again to talk in a tender 
 tone to the fair -haired lady, who smiled disdainfully. 
 
 Finette, in despair, took from the purse the golden bullet, 
 her last hope. While talking with the baron, who was charm- 
 ed with her wit, she shook the little ball in her hand, and re- 
 peated, in a whisper, 
 
 " Golden bullet, precious treasure, 
 Save me, if it be thy pleasure." 
 
 And behold, the bullet grew larger and larger, until it became 
 a goblet of chased gold, the most beautiful cup that ever 
 graced the table of baron or king. 
 
 Finette filled the cup herself with spiced wine, and, calling 
 
7 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 the seneschal, who was cowering behind her, she said, in her 
 gentlest tones, " My good seneschal, I entreat you to offer this 
 goblet to Lord Yvon. I wish to drink his health, and I am 
 sure that he will not refuse me this pleasure." 
 
 Yvon took the goblet, which the seneschal presented to him 
 on a salver of enamel and gold, with a careless hand, bowed 
 to the stranger, drank the wine, and, setting the cup on the 
 table before him, turned to the fair-haired lady who occu- 
 pied all his thoughts. The lady seemed anxious and vexed. 
 He whispered a few words in her ear that seemed to please 
 her, for her eyes sparkled, and she placed her hand again in 
 his. 
 
 Finette cast down her head and began to weep. All was 
 over. 
 
 " Children," cried the baron, in a voice of thunder, " fill 
 your glasses. Let us all drink to the noble stranger who 
 honors us with her presence. To the noble lady of the gold- 
 en cottage !" 
 
 All began to huzzah and drink. Yvon contented himself 
 with raising his goblet to a level with his eyes. Suddenly he 
 started and stood mute, his mouth open and his eyes fixed, 
 like a man that has a vision. 
 
 It was a vision. In the gold of the goblet Yvon saw his 
 past life as in a mirror: the giant pursuing him; Finette 
 dragging him along ; both embarking in the ship that saved 
 them ; both landing on the shore of Brittany ; he quitting her 
 for an instant ; she weeping at his departure. Where was 
 she ? By his side, of course. What other woman than Finette 
 could be by the side of Yvon ? 
 
 He turned toward the fair-haired lady, and cried out like a 
 man treading on a serpent. Then, staggering as if he were 
 drunk, he rose and looked around him with haggard eyes. 
 At the sight of Finette he clasped his trembling hands, and, 
 
Yvon and Finette. 
 
 79 
 
 dragging himself toward her, fell on his knees and exclaimed, 
 " Finette, forgive me !" 
 
 To forgive is the height of happiness. Before evening, 
 Finette was seated by the side of Yvon, both weeping and 
 smiling. 
 
 And what became of the fair-haired lady ? No one knows. 
 At the cry of Yvon she disappeared j but it was said that a 
 wretched old hag was seen flying on a broomstick over the 
 
 castle walls, chased by the dogs ; and it was the common 
 opinion among the Kervers that the fair-haired lady was none 
 other than the witch, the godmother of the giant. I am not 
 
8o Fairy Book. 
 
 sure enough of the fact, however, to dare warrant it. It is al- 
 ways prudent to believe, without proof, that a woman may be 
 a witch, but it is never wise to say so. 
 
 What I can say on the word of an historian is that the feast, 
 interrupted for a moment, went on gayer than ever. Early 
 the next morning they went to the church, where, to the joy 
 of his heart, Yvon married Finette, who was no longer afraid 
 of evil spirits ; after which they ate, drank, and danced for 
 thirty-six hours, without any one thinking of resting. The 
 steward's arms were a little heavy, the bailiff rubbed his back 
 at times, and the seneschal felt a sort of weariness in his 
 limbs, but all three had a weight on their conscience which 
 they could not shake off, and which made them tremble and 
 flutter, till finally they fell on the ground and were carried 
 off. Finette took no other vengeance on them ; her only de- 
 sire was to render all happy around her, far and near, who 
 belonged to the noble house of Kerver. Her memory still 
 lives in Brittany ; and, among the ruins of the old castle, any 
 one will show you the statue of the good lady, with five bullets 
 in her hand. 
 
THE CASTLE OF LIFE. 
 
 I. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived at Salerno a poor old wom- 
 an, who earned her bread by fishing, and whose only comfort 
 and stay in life was her grandson, a boy twelve years of age, 
 whose father had been drowned in a storm, and whose mother 
 had died of grief. Graceful, for this was the child's name, 
 loved nobody in the world but his grandmother he followed 
 her to the shore every morning before daybreak to pick up 
 the shell-fish or draw the net to the beach, longing for the 
 time when he should be strong enough to go to sea himself, 
 and brave the waves that had swallowed up all his kindred. 
 He was so handsome, so well-made, and so promising, that 
 no sooner had he entered the town with his basket of fish on 
 his head than every one ran after him, and he sold the whole 
 before he reached the market. 
 
 Unfortunately, the grandmother was very old ; she had but 
 one front tooth left, her head shook with age, and her eyes 
 were dim. Every morning she found it harder to rise than 
 the day before. Feeling that she had but a few days longer 
 to live, at night, before Graceful wrapped himself in his blank- 
 et and lay down on the ground to sleep, she always gave him 
 good counsels for him to follow when she was gone j she told 
 him what fishermen to avoid, and how, by being good and in- 
 dustrious, prudent and resolute, he would make his way in the 
 world; and finally have a boat and nets of his own. The 
 poor boy paid little heed to all this wisdom. As soon as his 
 grandmother began to put on a grave air, he threw his arms 
 
 D 2 
 
82 Fairy Book. 
 
 around her neck, and cried, " Grandmamma, grandmamma, 
 don't leave me. I have hands, I am strong, I shall soon be 
 able to work for us both ; but if you were not here at night 
 when I came home from fishing, what would become of me ?" 
 
 " My child," said the old woman one day to him, " I shall 
 not leave you so much alone as you think ; when I am gone 
 you will have two powerful protectors, whom more than one 
 prince might envy you. A long time ago I did a favor to 
 two great ladies, who will not forget you when the time comes 
 to call them, which will be very soon." 
 
 " Who are these two ladies ?" asked Graceful, who had 
 never seen any women but fishermen's wives in the hut. 
 
 "They are two fairies," replied his grandmother "two 
 powerful fairies the Fairy of the Woods and the Fairy of the 
 Waters. Listen to me, my child ; I am going to intrust you 
 with a secret a secret which you must keep as carefully as 
 I have done, and which will give you wealth and happiness. 
 Ten years ago, the same year that your father died and your 
 mother also left us, I went out one morning before daybreak 
 to surprise the crabs asleep in the sand. As I was stooping 
 down, hidden by a rock, I saw a kingfisher slowly floating to- 
 ward the beach. The kingfisher is a sacred bird, which should 
 always be respected ; knowing this, I let it alight, and did not 
 stir for fear of frightening it. At the same moment I saw a 
 beautiful green adder come from a cleft of the mountain and 
 crawl along the sand toward the bird. When they were near 
 each other, without either seeming surprised at the meeting, 
 the adder coiled itself around the neck of the kingfisher, as if 
 tenderly embracing it ; they remained thus entwined for a few 
 moments, after which they suddenly separated, the adder to 
 return to the rock, and the kingfisher to plunge into the waves 
 which bore it away. 
 
 " Greatly astonished at what I had seen, I returned the 
 
The Castle of Life. 83 
 
 next morning at the same hour, and at the same hour the 
 kingfisher also alighted on the sands and the adder came 
 from its retreat. There was no doubt that they were fairies, 
 perhaps enchanted fairies, to whom I could render a service. 
 But what was I to do ? To show myself would have been 
 to displease them and run into danger ; it was better to 
 wait for a favorable opportunity which chance would doubt- 
 less offer. For a whole month I lay in ambush, witnessing 
 the same spectacle every morning, when one day I saw a 
 huge black cat arrive first at the place of meeting and hide 
 itself behind a rock, almost under my hand. A black cat 
 could be nothing else than an enchanter, according to what 
 I had learned in my childhood, and I resolved to watch him. 
 Scarcely had the kingfisher and the adder embraced each 
 other, when behold ! the cat gathered itself up and sprang 
 upon these innocents. It was my turn to throw myself upon 
 the wretch, who already held his victims in his murderous 
 claws ; I seized him despite his struggles, although he tore 
 my hands in pieces, and without pity, knowing with whom I 
 had to deal, I took the knife which I used to open shell-fish, 
 and cut off the monster's head, claws, and tail, confidently 
 awaiting the success of my devotion. 
 
 " I did not wait long ; no sooner had I thrown the body of 
 the animal into the sea than I saw before me two beautiful 
 ladies, one crowned with white plumes, the other with a ser- 
 pent's skin thrown like a scarf across her shoulder. They 
 were, as I have already told you, the Fairy of the Waters and 
 the Fairy of the Woods, who, enchanted by a wretched genie 
 who had learned their secret, had been forced to remain a 
 kingfisher and an adder until freed by some generous hand, 
 and who owed me their power and freedom. 
 
 "'Ask of us what you will,' said they, 'and your request 
 shall be instantly granted.' 
 
8 4 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 " I reflected that I was old, and had suffered too much in 
 life to wish to begin it anew, while the day would come, my 
 child, when nothing would be too great for your desires ; when 
 you would wish to be rich, noble a general, a marquis, a 
 prince, perhaps ! When that day comes, thought I, I can 
 
The Castle of Life. 85 
 
 give him every thing ; and a single moment of such happiness 
 will repay me for eighty years of pain and misery. I thanked 
 the fairies, therefore, and entreated them to keep their good 
 will till the day when I should have need of it. The Fairy 
 of the Waters took a small feather from her crown, and the 
 Fairy of the Woods detached a scale from her scarf. 
 
 " ' My good woman,' said they, ' when you wish for us, place 
 this feather and this scale in a vessel of pure water and call 
 on us, making a wish. Should we be at the end of the world, 
 we will be at your side in an instant, ready to pay the debt we 
 owe you.' 
 
 " I bowed my head in token of gratitude. When I raised 
 it all had vanished ; even the wounds and blood had disap- 
 peared from my hands, and I should have thought that I had 
 been dreaming had not the scale of the serpent and the feath- 
 er of the kingfisher remained in my hand." 
 
 "And where are these treasures, grandmamma ?" asked 
 Graceful. 
 
 " My child, I have carefully concealed them," answered the 
 old woman, " not wishing to show them to you till you were a 
 man, and able to make use of them ; but, since death is about 
 to separate us, the moment has come to give you these pre- 
 cious talismans. You will find at the back of the cupboard 
 a wooden chest hidden under some rags ; in the chest is a 
 little pasteboard box, wound about with tow ; open this box, 
 and you will find the scale and the feather carefully wrapped 
 in cotton. Take care not to break them ; handle them re- 
 spectfully, and I will tell you what next to do." 
 
 Graceful brought the box to the poor woman, who was no 
 longer able to quit her pallet, and she herself took from it 
 the two articles. 
 
 " Now," said she, giving them to her grandson, " put a 
 bowl full of water in the middle of the room ; place the scale 
 
86 Fairy Book. 
 
 and the feather in the water, and make a wish wish for for- 
 tune, nobility, wit, power, whatever you please ; only, as I feel 
 that I am dying, kiss me once more, my child, before speak- 
 ing the words that will separate us forever, and receive my last 
 blessing ; it will be another talisman to bring you happiness." 
 
 But, to the old woman's surprise, Graceful did not come 
 near her, either to kiss her or to receive her blessing. He 
 quickly placed the bowl in the middle of the room, threw the 
 feather and scale into the water, and shouted at the top of 
 his voice, " Appear, Fairy of the Waters ! I wish that my 
 grandmother may live forever. Appear, Fairy of the Woods ! 
 I wish that my grandmother may live forever." 
 
 And behold ! the water bubbled, bubbled, bubbled ; the 
 bowl grew to a great basin, which the walls of the hut could 
 scarcely hold, and from the bottom of the basin Graceful saw 
 two beautiful young women rise, whom he knew directly from 
 their wands to be fairies. One wore a crown of holly leaves 
 mixed with red berries, and diamond ear-rings resembling 
 acorns in their cups ; she was dressed in a robe of olive- 
 green, over which a speckled skin was knotted like a scarf 
 across the right shoulder this was the Fairy of the Woods. 
 As to the Fairy of the Waters, she wore a garland of reeds 
 on her head, with a white robe trimmed with the feathers of 
 aquatic birds, and a blue scarf, which now and then rose 
 above her head, and fluttered like the sail of a ship. Great 
 ladies as they were, they looked smilingly at Graceful, who 
 had taken refuge in his grandmother's arms, and trembled 
 with fear and admiration. 
 
 " Here we are, my child," said the Fairy of the Waters, 
 who spoke first, as the eldest. " We have heard what you 
 said, and your wish does you honor ; but, though we can help 
 you in the plan which you have conceived, you alone can ex- 
 ecute it. We can, indeed, prolong your grandmother's life 
 
The Castle of Life. 87 
 
 for some time, but, for her to live forever, you must go to 
 the Castle of Life, four long days' journey from here, on the 
 coast of Sicily. There you will find the Fountain of Immor- 
 tality. If you can accomplish each of these four days' jour- 
 ney without turning aside from the road, and, on reaching the 
 castle, can answer three questions that will be put to you by 
 an invisible voice, you will obtain what you desire. But, my 
 child, reflect well before undertaking this adventure, for you 
 will meet more than one danger on the way \ and if you fail 
 a single time to reach the end of your day's journey, you will 
 not only miss the object of your pursuit, but you will never 
 quit the country, from which none has ever returned." 
 
 " I will go, madam," returned Graceful. 
 
 " But you are very young, my child," said the Fairy of the 
 Woods, " and you do not even know the way." 
 
 " No matter," replied Graceful ; " I am sure, beautiful la- 
 dies, that you will not forsake me, and to save my grand- 
 mother I would go to the end of the world." 
 
 " Wait," said the Fairy of the Woods. Then, separating 
 the lead from a broken window-pane, she placed it in the hol- 
 low of her hand. 
 
 And behold ! the lead began to melt and bubble without 
 seeming to burn the fairy, who threw the metal on the hearth, 
 where it cooled in a thousand different forms. 
 
 " What do you see in all that ?" said the fairy to Graceful. 
 
 " It seems to me, madam," said he, after looking attentive- 
 ly, " that I see a spaniel, with a long tail and large ears." 
 
 " Call him," said the fairy. 
 
 A barking was instantly heard, and forth from the metal 
 sprang a black and flame -colored spaniel, which began to 
 gambol and leap around Graceful. 
 
 " This will be your companion," said the fairy. " His name 
 is Fido. He will show you the way ; but I warn you that it 
 
88 Fairy Book. 
 
 is for you to direct him, and not for him to lead you. If you 
 make him obey, he will serve you ; if you obey him, he will 
 destroy you." 
 
 "And I," said the Fairy of the Waters, "have I nothing to 
 give you, my poor Graceful ?" 
 
 Then, looking around her, the lady saw on the ground a 
 bit of paper, which she tossed into the fire with her tiny foot. 
 The paper caught fire, and as soon as the blaze had died 
 away, thousands of little sparks were seen chasing each other 
 about. The fairy watched these sparks with a curious eye ; 
 then, as the last one was about to go out, she blew upon the 
 cinders, when, lo ! the chirp of a bird was heard, and a swal- 
 low rose, which fluttered, terrified, about the room, and final- 
 ly alighted on Graceful's shoulder. 
 
 " This will be your companion," said the Fairy of the Wa- 
 ters. "Her name is Pensive; she will show you the way; 
 but I warn you that it is for you to direct her, and not for her 
 to lead you. If you make her obey, she will serve you ; if you 
 obey her, she will destroy you." 
 
 " Stir the black ashes," added the good Fairy of the Wa- 
 ters, " and perhaps you will find something there." 
 
 Graceful obeyed. Under the ashes of the paper he found 
 a vial of rock crystal, sparkling like a diamond. This, the 
 fairy said, was to hold the water of immortality, which would 
 break any vessel made by the hand of man. By the side of 
 the vial Graceful found a dagger with a triangular blade a 
 very different thing from the stiletto of his father the fisher- 
 man, which he had been forbidden to touch. With this v*eap- 
 on he could brave the proudest enemy. 
 
 " My sister, you shall not be more generous than I," said 
 the other fairy ; then, taking a rush from the only chair in the 
 room, she blew upon it, when, lo ! the rush instantly swelled, 
 and in less time than it takes to tell it became a beautiful 
 
The Castle of Life. 89 
 
 musket, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. A second rush produced 
 a cartridge-box, which Graceful slung around his body, and 
 which became him marvelously. One would have thought 
 him a prince setting out for the chase ; he was so handsome 
 that his grandmother wept for joy and emotion. 
 
 The two fairies vanished; Graceful kissed the good old 
 woman, urging her to await his return, and knelt before her 
 to receive her blessing. She entreated him to be patient, 
 just, and charitable, and, above all, not to wander from the 
 right path. " Not for my sake," added the old woman, " for 
 I would gladly welcome death, and I regret the wish that you 
 have made, but for your own, my child, that you may return 
 to me, and that I may not die without your being here to 
 close my eyes." 
 
 It was late. Graceful threw himself on the ground, too 
 agitated, it seemed, to sleep. But slumber soon overtook 
 him, and he slept soundly all night, while his poor grand- 
 mother watched the face of her dear child lighted by the flick- 
 ering lamp, and did not weary of mournfully admiring him. 
 
 II. 
 
 EARLY in the morning, when dawn was scarcely breaking, 
 the swallow began to twitter, and Fido to pull the blankets. 
 " Let us go, master let us go," said the two companions, 
 in their language, which Graceful understood by the gift of 
 the fairies ; " the tide is already rising on the beach, the birds 
 are singing, the flies are humming, and the flowers are open- 
 ing in the sun ; let us go ; it is time." 
 
 Graceful kissed his grandmother for the last time, and took 
 the road to Paestum, Pensive fluttering to the right and the 
 left in pursuit of the flies, and Fido fawning on his young 
 master or running before him. 
 
90 Fairy Book. 
 
 They had not gone two leagues from the town when Grace- 
 ful saw Fido talking with the ants, who were marching in 
 regular troops, carrying all their provisions with them. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked he. 
 
 "To the Castle of Life," they answered. 
 
 A little farther on Pensive encountered the grasshopper^ 
 who had also set out on a journey, together with the bees and 
 the butterflies ; all were going to the Castle of Life, to drinli 
 of the Fountain of Immortality. They traveled in company, 
 like people following the same road. Pensive introduced 
 Graceful to a young butterfly, that chatted agreeably. Friend- 
 ship springs up quickly in youth ; in an hour the two com- 
 rades were inseparable. 
 
 To go straight forward does not suit the taste of butterflies, 
 and Graceful's friend was constantly losing himself among 
 the grass. Graceful, who had never been free in his life, nor 
 had seen so many flowers and so much sunshine, followed all 
 the windings of his companion, and troubled himself no more 
 about the day than if it were never to end ; but, after a few 
 leagues' journey, his new friend began to be weary. 
 
 "Don't go any farther," said he to Graceful; "see how 
 beautiful is this landscape, how fragrant these flowers, and 
 how balmy these fields. Let us stay here ; this is life." 
 
 " Let us go on," said Fido ; " the day is long, and we are 
 only at the beginning." 
 
 " Let us go on," said Pensive ; " the sky is clear, and the 
 horizon unbounded. Let us go on." 
 
 Graceful, restored to his senses, reasoned sagely with the 
 butterfly, who fluttered constantly to the right and the left, 
 but all in vain. " What matters it to me ?" said the insect ; 
 "yesterday I was a caterpillar, to-night I shall be nothing. 
 I will enjoy to-day." And he settled on a full-blown Paestum 
 rose. The perfume was so strong that the poor butterfly was 
 
The Castle of Life. 91 
 
 suffocated. Graceful vainly endeavored to recall him to life ; 
 then, bemoaning his fate, he fastened him with a pin to his 
 hat like a cockade. 
 
 Toward noon the grasshoppers stopped in turn. " Let us 
 rest," said they ; " the heat will overpower us if we struggle 
 against the noonday sun. It is so pleasant to live in sweet 
 repose ! Come, Graceful, we will divert you, and you shall 
 sing with us." 
 
 " Listen to them," said Pensive ; " they sing so sweetly !" 
 But Fido would not stop ; his blood seemed on fire, and he 
 barked so furiously that Graceful forgot the grasshoppers to 
 follow his importunate companion. 
 
 At evening Graceful met the honey-bee loaded with booty. 
 " Where are you going ?" said he. 
 
 " I am returning home," said the bee ; " I shall not quit my 
 hive." 
 
 "What!" rejoined Graceful; "industrious as you are, will 
 you do like the grasshoppers and renounce your share in im- 
 mortality ?" 
 
 " Your castle is too far off," returned the bee. " I have not 
 your ambition. My daily labor suffices for me ; I care noth- 
 ing for your travels ; to me work is life." 
 
 Graceful was a little moved at losing so many of his fellow- 
 travelers on the first day ; but when he thought with what 
 ease he had accomplished the first day's journey, his heart 
 was filled with joy. He caressed Fido, caught the flies which 
 Pensive took from his hand, and slept full of hope, dreaming 
 of his grandmother and the two fairies. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE next morning, at daybreak, Pensive called his young 
 master. 
 
92 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Let us go," said he ; " the tide is already rising on the 
 shore, the birds are singing, the bees are humming, and the 
 flowers are opening in the sun ; let us go ; it is time." 
 
 "Wait a moment," said Fido. "The day's journey is not 
 long ; before noon we shall be in sight of the temples of 
 Psestum, where we are to stop for the night." 
 
 " The ants are already on the way," returned Pensive ; " the 
 road is harder than yesterday, and the weather more uncer- 
 tain ; let us go." 
 
 Graceful had seen his grandmother smiling on him in his 
 dreams, and he set out on his way with even greater ardor 
 than the day before. The morning was glorious ; on the 
 right the blue waves broke with a gentle murmur on the 
 strand ; on the left, in the distance, the mountains were tinged 
 with a roseate hue ; the plain was covered with tall grass 
 sprinkled with flowers ; the road was lined with aloes, jujubes, 
 and acanthuses, and before them lay a cloudless horizon. 
 Graceful, ravished with hope and pleasure, fancied himself 
 already at the end of his journey. Fido bounded over the 
 fields and chased the frightened partridges ; Pensive soared 
 in the air and sported with the light. All at once Graceful 
 saw a beautiful doe in the midst of the reeds, looking at him 
 with languishing eyes as if she were calling him. He went to- 
 ward her ; she bounded forward, but only a little way. Three 
 times she repeated the same trick, as if to allure him on. 
 
 " Let us follow her," said Fido ; " I will cut off the way, 
 and we will soon catch her." 
 
 "Where is Pensive?" said Graceful. 
 
 " What does it matter ?" replied Fido ; " it is the work of 
 an instant. Trust to me I was born for the chase and the 
 doe is ours." 
 
 Graceful did not let himself be bid twice. While Fido 
 made a circuit, he ran after the doe, which paused among the 
 
The Castle of Life. 93 
 
 trees as if to suffer herself to be caught, then bounded for- 
 ward as soon as the hand of the pursuer touched her. "Cour- 
 age, master !" cried Fido, as he came upon her. But, with a 
 toss of the head, the doe flung the dog in the air, and fled 
 swifter than the wind. 
 
 Graceful sprung forward in pursuit. Fido, with burning 
 eyes and distended jaws, ran and yelped as if he were mad. 
 They crossed ditches, brakes, and hedges, unchecked by noth- 
 ing. The wearied doe lost ground. Graceful redoubled his 
 ardor, and was already stretching out his hand to seize his 
 prey, when all at once the ground gave way beneath his feet, 
 and he fell, with his imprudent companion, into a pit covered 
 over with leaves. He had not recovered from his fall when 
 the doe, approaching the brink, cried, " You are betrayed ; I 
 am the wife of the King of the Wolves, who is coming to eat 
 you both." Saying this, she disappeared. 
 
 " Alas ! master," said Fido, " the fairy was right in advising 
 you not to follow me. We have acted foolishly, and I have 
 destroyed you." 
 
 " At all events," said Graceful, " we will defend our lives ;" 
 and, taking his musket, he double-loaded it, in readiness for 
 the King of the Wolves ; then, somewhat calmed, he examined 
 the deep ditch into which he had fallen. It was too high for 
 him to escape from it ; in this hole he must await his death. 
 Fido understood the look of his friend. 
 
 " Master," said he, "if you take me in your arms and throw 
 me with all your might, perhaps I can reach the top ; and, 
 once there, I can help you." 
 
 Graceful had not much hope. Three times he endeavored 
 to throw Fido, and three times the poor animal fell back; 
 finally, at the fourth effort, he caught hold of some roots, and 
 aided himself so well with his teeth and paws that he escaped 
 from the tomb. He instantly threw into the ditch the boughs 
 which he found about the edge. 
 
94 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Master," said he, " plant these branches in the earth, and 
 make yourself a ladder. Quick ! quick !" he added j " I hear 
 the howls of the King of the Wolves." 
 
 Graceful was adroit and agile. Anger redoubled his 
 strength ; in a moment he was outside. Then he secured 
 his dagger in his belt, changed the powder in the pan of his 
 musket, and, placing himself behind a tree, awaited the ene- 
 my with firmness. 
 
 Suddenly a frightful cry was heard, and an animal, with 
 tusks like those of the wild boar, rushed on him with pro- 
 digious bounds. Graceful took aim and fired. The bullet 
 hit the mark, and the animal fell back howling, but instantly 
 sprang forward anew. " Load your musket again ! make 
 haste !" cried Fido, springing courageously in the face of the 
 monster, and seizing his throat with his teeth. 
 
 The wolf had only to shake his head to fling the poor dog 
 to the ground. He would have swallowed him at one mouth- 
 ful had not Fido glided from his jaws, leaving one of his ears 
 behind. It was Graceful's turn to save his companion ; he 
 boldly advanced and fired his second shot, taking aim at the 
 shoulder. The wolf fell ; but, rising, with a last effort he threw 
 himself on the hunter, who fell under him. On receiving this 
 terrible shock, Graceful thought himself lost ; but, without los- 
 ing courage, and calling the good fairies to his aid, he seized 
 his dagger, and thrust it into the heart of the animal, which, 
 ready to devour his enemy, straightened his limbs and died. 
 
 Graceful rose, covered with blood and froth, and seated 
 himself, trembling, upon a fallen tree. Fido crept painfully 
 to his feet, without daring to caress him, for he felt how much 
 he was to blame. 
 
 " Master," said he, " what will become of us ? Night is ap- 
 proaching, and we are so far from Paestum !" 
 
 " We must go," said the child ; and he rose ; but he was so 
 
The Castle of Life. 95 
 
 weak that he was obliged to sit down again. A burning 
 thirst devoured him ; he was feverish, and every thing whirled 
 before his eyes. He thought of his grandmother, and began 
 to weep. What was poor Graceful's remorse for having so 
 soon forgotten such fair promises, and condemned himself to 
 die in a country from which there was no return, and all this 
 for the bright eyes of a doe ! How sadly ended the day so 
 well begun ! 
 
 Sinister howls were soon heard ; the brothers of the King 
 of the Wolves were calling him and coming to his aid. Grace- 
 ful embraced Fido, his only friend, and forgave him the im- 
 prudence for which they were both about to pay with their 
 lives ; then loaded his musket, offered up a prayer to the 
 good fairies, commended his grandmother to them, and pre- 
 pared to die. 
 
 " Graceful ! Graceful ! where are you ?" cried a little voice 
 that could be none other than Pensive's, and the swallow 
 alighted on the head of his master. 
 
 " Courage !" said she ; " the wolves are still far off. There 
 is a spring close by where you can quench your thirst and 
 stanch your bleeding wounds, and I have found a hidden path 
 which will lead us to Paestum." 
 
 Graceful and Fido dragged themselves along to the brook, 
 trembling with hope and fear ; then entered the obscure path, 
 a little reanimated by the soft twittering of Pensive. The 
 sun had set \ they walked in the twilight for some hours, and, 
 when the moon rose, they were out of danger. They had still 
 to journey over a painful and dangerous road for those who 
 no longer had the ardor of the morning. There were marshes 
 to cross, ditches to leap, and thickets to break through, which 
 tore Graceful's face and hands ; but, at the thought that he 
 could still repair his fault and save his grandmother, his heart 
 was so light that his strength redoubled at every step with his 
 
96 Fairy Book. 
 
 hope. At last, after a thousand obstacles, they reached Paes- 
 tum just as the stars marked midnight 
 
 Graceful threw himself on the pavement of the temple of 
 Neptune, and, after thanking Pensive, fell asleep, with Fido 
 at his feet, wounded, bleeding, and silent. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE sleep was not long. Graceful was up before day- 
 break, which seemed long in coming. On descending the 
 steps of the temple, he saw the ants, who had raised a heap 
 of sand, and were bringing grain from the new harvest. The 
 whole republic was in motion. The ants were all going or 
 coming, talking to their neighbors, and receiving or giving 
 orders ; some were dragging wisps of straw, others were car- 
 rying bits of wood, others conveying away dead flies, and 
 others heaping up provisions : it was a complete winter es- 
 tablishment. 
 
 " What !" said Graceful to the ants, " are you not going to 
 the Castle of Life ? Do you renounce immortality ?" 
 
 " We have worked long enough," answered one of the la- 
 borers j " the time for harvest has come. The road is long 
 and the future uncertain, and we are rich. Let fools count 
 on to-morrow, the wise man uses to-day. When a person 
 has hoarded riches honestly, it is true philosophy to enjoy 
 them." 
 
 Fido thought that the ant was right ; but, as he no longer 
 dared advise, he contented himself with shaking his head as 
 they set out. Pensive, on the contrary, said that the ant was 
 a selfish fellow, and that, if life were made only for enjoyment, 
 the butterfly was wiser than he. At the same time, and with 
 a lighter wing than ever, the swallow soared upward to lead 
 the way. 
 
The Castle of Life. 97 
 
 Graceful walked on in silence. Ashamed of the follies of 
 the day before, although he still regretted the doe, he re- 
 solved that on the third day nothing should turn him aside 
 from the road. Fido, with his mutilated ear, limped after his 
 master, and seemed not less dreamy than he. At noon they 
 sought for a shady place in which to rest for a few moments. 
 The sun was less scorching than the day before. It seemed 
 as if both country and season had changed. The road lay 
 through meadows lately mown for the second time, or beauti- 
 ful vineyards full of grapes, and was lined with great fig-trees 
 laden with fruit, in which thousands of insects were humming ; 
 golden clouds were floating in the horizon, the air was soft 
 and gentle, and every thing tempted to repose. 
 
 In the most beautiful of the meadows, by the side of a 
 brook which diffused its coolness afar, Graceful saw a herd 
 of buffaloes chewing the cud under the shade of the ashes 
 and plane-trees. They were lazily stretched on the ground, 
 in a circle around a large bull that seemed their chief and 
 king. Graceful approached them, and was received with po- 
 liteness. They invited him by a nod to be seated, and point- 
 ed out to him great bowls full of milk and cheese. Our trav- 
 eler admired the calmness and gravity of these peaceful and 
 powerful animals, which seemed like so many Roman senators 
 in their curule chairs. The gold ring which they wore in their 
 noses added still more to the majesty of their aspect. Grace- 
 ful, who felt calmer and more sedate than the day before, 
 thought, in spite of himself, how pleasant it would be to live 
 in the midst of this peace and plenty ; if happiness were any 
 where, it must surely be found here. 
 
 Fido shared his master's opinion. It was the season of 
 the southward migration of the quails ; the ground was cov- 
 ered with tired birds, resting to regain strength before cross- 
 ing the sea, and Fido had only to stoop down to find game 
 
 E 
 
98 Fairy Book. 
 
 worthy of a prince. Satiated with eating, he stretched himself 
 at GracefuPs feet, and slept soundly. 
 
 When the buffaloes had finished chewing their cud, Grace- 
 ful, who had hitherto feared to disturb them, entered into con- 
 versation with the bull, who showed a cultivated mind and 
 wide experience. 
 
 " Are you the masters of this rich domain ?" asked he. 
 
 " No," replied the old buffalo ; " we belong, with all the 
 rest, to the Fairy Crapaudine, the Queen of the Vermilion 
 Towers, the richest of all the fairies." 
 
 " What does she require of you ?" asked Graceful. 
 
 " Nothing, except to wear this gold ring in the nose, and to 
 pay her a tribute of milk," returned the bull, " or, at most, 
 to give her one of our children from time to time to regale 
 her guests. At this price we enjoy our plenty in perfect se- 
 curity, and we have no reason to envy any on earth, for none 
 are so happy as we." 
 
 " Have you never heard of the Castle of Life, and the Foun- 
 tain of Immortality ?" asked Graceful, who, without knowing 
 why, blushed as he put the question. 
 
 " There were some old men among our ancestors who still 
 talked of these visions," replied the bull ; " but we are wiser 
 than our fathers ; we know that there is no other happiness 
 than to chew the cud and sleep." 
 
 Graceful rose sadly to resume his journey, and asked what 
 were those reddish square towers w r hich he saw in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " They are the Vermilion Towers," returned the bull ; " they . 
 bar the way ; and you must pass through the castle of the 
 Fairy Crapaudine in order to continue your road. You will 
 see the fairy, my young friend, and she will offer you hospi- 
 tality and riches. Take my advice, and do like those that 
 have gone before you, all of whom accepted the favors of our 
 
The Castle of Life. 99 
 
 mistress, and found that they had done well to abandon their 
 dreams in order to live happy." 
 
 " And what became of them ?" asked Graceful. 
 
 "They became buffaloes like us," rejoined the bull, who, 
 not having finished his afternoon nap, closed his eyes and 
 fell asleep. 
 
 Graceful started and awakened Fido, who rose grumbling. 
 He called Pensive. Pensive did not answer j she was talk- 
 ing with a spider that had spun a great web between the 
 branches of an ash-tree, which was glittering in the sun, full 
 of flies. "Why take this long journey?" said the spider to 
 the swallow. " What is the use of changing your climate, and 
 putting your life at the mercy of the sea, the weather, or a 
 master ? Look at me ; I depend on nobody, and have every 
 thing from myself. I am my own mistress ; I enjoy my art 
 and genius ; I bring the world to me ; nothing can disturb 
 either my calculations, or a serenity which I owe to myself 
 alone." 
 
 Graceful called Pensive three times without making her 
 hear, so completely was she engrossed in admiration of her 
 new friend. Every instant some giddy fly fell into the web, 
 and each time the spider, like an attentive hostess, offered the 
 prey to her astonished companion, when suddenly a breeze 
 passed a breeze so light that it did not ruffle a feather of 
 the swallow's wing. Pensive looked for the spider ; the web 
 had been swept away by the winds, and the poor insect was 
 clinging by one foot to the last thread, when a bird seized it 
 and bore it away. 
 
 V. 
 
 SETTING out again on their way, they proceeded in silence 
 to the palace of Crapaudine. Graceful was introduced with 
 great ceremony by two beautiful greyhounds, caparisoned with 
 
ioo Fairy Book. 
 
 purple, and wearing on their necks broad collars sparkling 
 with rubies. After crossing a great number of halls, all full 
 of pictures, statues, gold, and silver, and coffers overflowing 
 with money and jewels, Graceful and his companions entered a 
 circular temple, which was Crapaudine's drawing-room. The 
 walls were of lapis-lazuli, and the ceiling, of sky-blue enamel, 
 was supported by twelve chiseled pillars of massive gold, with 
 capitals of acanthus leaves of white enamel edged with gold. 
 A huge frog, as large as a rabbit, was seated in a velvet easy- 
 chair. It was the fairy of the place. The charming Crapau- 
 dine was draped in a scarlet mantle covered with glittering 
 spangles, and wore on her head a ruby diadem, whose lustre 
 lighted up her fat cheeks mottled with green and yellow. As 
 soon as she perceived Graceful, she extended to him her 
 fingers, covered with rings, which the poor boy was obliged 
 respectfully to raise to his lips as he bowed. 
 
 " My friend," said the fairy to him, in a hoarse voice, which 
 she vainly tried to soften, " I was expecting you, and I will 
 not be less generous to you than my sisters have been. On 
 your way here you have seen but a small part of my riches. 
 This palace, with its pictures, its statues, and its coffers full of 
 gold, these vast domains, and these innumerable flocks, all 
 may be yours if you wish ; it depends only on yourself to be- 
 come the richest and happiest of men." 
 
 "What must I do for this?" asked Graceful, greatly ex- 
 cited. 
 
 " Less than nothing," replied the fairy ; " chop me up into 
 little pieces and eat me. It is not a very disagreeable thing 
 to do," added Crapaudine, looking at Graceful with eyes red- 
 der than usual. 
 
 " Can I not season you, at least ?" said Graceful, who had 
 been unable to looV without envy at the beautiful gardens of 
 the fairy. 
 
The Castle of Life. ibi 
 
 " No, you must eat me without seasoning ; but walk about 
 my palace, see and handle all my treasures, and reflect that, 
 by giving me this proof of devotion, they will all be yours." 
 
 " Master," sighed Fido, in a supplicating voice, " a little 
 courage ! we are so comfortable here !" 
 
 Pensive said nothing, but his silence was consent. As to 
 Graceful, who remembered the buffaloes and the gold ring, he 
 distrusted the fairy. Crapaudine perceived it 
 
 " Do not think, my dear Graceful, that I wish to deceive 
 you," she said. " In offering you all that I possess, I also de- 
 mand of you a service which I will reward as it deserves. 
 When you have done what I propose, I shall become a young 
 girl, as beautiful as Venus, except that my hands and feet will 
 remain like those of a frog, which is very little when one is 
 rich. Ten princes, twenty marquises, and thirty counts have 
 already begged me to marry them as I am ; when I become a 
 woman, I will give you the preference, and we will enjoy my 
 vast fortune together. Do not blush for your poverty ; you 
 have about you a treasure that is worth all mine, the vial 
 which my sister gave you." Saying this, she stretched out 
 her slimy fingers to seize the talisman. 
 
 " Never !" cried Graceful, shrinking back, " never ! I wish 
 neither repose nor fortune ; I wish to quit this place and to 
 go to the Castle of Life." 
 
 " You shall never go there !" exclaimed the fairy, in a rage. 
 The castle instantly disappeared, a circle of fire surrounded 
 Graceful, and an invisible clock began to strike midnight. 
 At the first stroke the child started ; at the second, without 
 hesitating, he plunged headlong into the flames. To die for 
 his grandmother seemed to him the only means of showing 
 his love and repentance. 
 
IO2 Fairy Book. 
 
 VI. 
 
 To Graceful's surprise, the flames parted without touching 
 him, and he suddenly found himself in a new country, with 
 his two companions by his side. This country was no longer 
 Italy, but Russia, the end of the earth. He was wandering 
 on a mountain covered with snow. Around him he saw noth- 
 ing but great trees, coated with hoar-frost, and dripping water 
 from all their branches ; a damp and penetrating mist chilled 
 him to the bones ; the moist earth sunk under his feet ; and, to 
 crown his wretchedness, it was necessary to descend a steep 
 precipice, at the bottom of which a torrent was breaking nois- 
 ily over the rocks. Graceful took his dagger and cut a branch 
 from a tree to support his faltering steps. Fido, with his tail 
 between his legs, barked feebly ; and Pensive, his ruffled feath- 
 ers covered with icicles, clung to his master's shoulder. The 
 poor bird was half dead, but she encouraged Graceful, and did 
 not complain. 
 
 When, after infinite pains, he reached the foot of the moun- 
 tain, Graceful found a river filled with enormous icebergs, 
 striking against each other and whirling in the current, and 
 this river he must cross, without bridge, without boat, and with- 
 out aid. 
 
 " Master," said Fido, " I can go no farther. Accursed be 
 the fairy that drew me from nothingness to place me in your 
 service." Saying this, he lay down on the ground and would 
 not stir. Graceful vainly tried to restore his courage, and 
 called him his companion and friend. All that the poor dog 
 could do was to answer his master's caresses for the last time 
 by wagging his tail and licking his hands ; then his limbs stiff- 
 ened, and he expired. 
 
 Graceful took Fido on his back in order to carry him to the 
 Castle of Life, and boldly climbed one of the icebergs, still 
 
The Castle of Life. 103 
 
 followed by Pensive. With his staff he pushed this frail bark 
 into the middle of the current, which bore it away with fright- 
 ful rapidity. 
 
 " Master," said Pensive, " do you hear the roaring of the 
 waters ? We are floating toward a whirlpool which will swal- 
 low us up ! Give me a last caress, and farewell !" 
 
 " No," said Graceful ; " why should the fairies have deceived 
 us ? The shore may be close by ; perhaps the sun is shin- 
 ing behind the clouds. Mount, mount, my good Pensive ; 
 perchance above the fog you will find light, and will see the 
 Castle of Life !" 
 
 Pensive spread his half-frozen wings, and courageously 
 soared amidst the cold and mist. Graceful listened for a 
 moment to the sound of his flight ; then all was silent, while 
 the iceberg pursued its furious course through the darkness. 
 Graceful waited a long time ; at last, when he felt himself 
 alone, hope abandoned him, and he lay down to await death 
 on the tottering iceberg. Livid flashes of lightning shot 
 through the clouds, horrible bursts of thunder were heard, and 
 the end of the world and of time seemed approaching. All 
 at once, in the midst of his despair, Graceful heard the cry of 
 the swallow, and Pensive fell at his feet. " Master, master," 
 cried she, " you were right. I have seen the shore ; the dawn 
 is close at hand ; courage !" Saying this, she convulsively 
 spread her tired wings, and lay motionless and lifeless. 
 
 Graceful started up, placed the poor bird that had sacri- 
 ficed itself for him next his heart, and, with superhuman ar- 
 dor, urged the iceberg on to safety or destruction. Suddenly 
 he heard the roaring of the breakers. He fell on his knees 
 and closed his eyes, awaiting death. 
 
 A wave like a mountain broke over his head and cast him 
 fainting on the shore, which no living person had touched be- 
 fore him. 
 
IO4 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 VII. 
 
 WHEN Graceful recovered his senses, the ice, clouds, and 
 darkness had disappeared. He was lying on the ground in 
 the midst of a charming country, covered with trees bathed in 
 a soft light. In front of him was a beautiful castle, from 
 which bubbled a brook that flowed into a sea as blue, calm, 
 and transparent as the sky. Graceful looked about him ; he 
 was alone alone with the remains of his two companions, 
 which the waves had washed on the shore. Exhausted with 
 
The Castle of Life. 105 
 
 suffering and excitement, he dragged himself to the brook, 
 and bent over the water to refresh his parched lips, when 
 he shrank back with affright. It was not his face that he saw 
 in the water, but that of an old man with silvery locks who 
 strongly resembled him. He turned round ; there was no one 
 behind him. He again drew near the fountain ; he saw the old 
 man, or rather, doubtless, the old man was himself. " Great 
 fairies," he cried, " I understand you. If it is my life that you 
 wish in exchange for that of my grandmother, I joyfully accept 
 the sacrifice." And without troubling himself farther about 
 his old age and wrinkles, he plunged his head into the water 
 and drank eagerly. 
 
 On rising, he was astonished to see himself again as he 
 was when he left home, only more beautiful, with blacker hair 
 and brighter eyes than ever. He picked up his hat, which 
 had fallen near the spring, and which a drop of water had 
 touched by chance, when what was his surprise to see the but- 
 terfly that he had pinned to it fluttering its wings and seeking 
 to fly. He gave it its liberty, and ran to the beach for Fido 
 and Pensive, then plunged them both into the blessed foun- 
 tain. Pensive flew upward with a joyful cry, and disappeared 
 amid the turrets of the castle. Fido, shaking the water from 
 both ears, ran to the kennels of the palace, where he was met 
 by magnificent watch-dogs, which, instead of barking and 
 growling at the new-comer, welcomed him joyfully like an old 
 friend. Graceful had at last found the fountain of immortal- 
 ity, or rather the brook that flowed from it a brook already 
 greatly weakened, and which only gave two or three hundred 
 years of life to those that drank of it ; but nothing prevented 
 them from drinking anew. 
 
 Graceful filled his vial with this life-giving water, and ap- 
 proached the palace. His heart beat, for a last trial remain- 
 ed. So near success, he feared the more to fail. He mount- 
 
 E 2 
 
io6 Fairy Book. 
 
 ed the steps of the castle. All was closed and silent ; no one 
 was there to receive the traveler. When he had reached the 
 last step and was about to knock at the door, a voice, rather 
 gentle than harsh, stopped him. 
 
 " Have you loved ?" said the invisible voice. 
 
 " Yes," answered Graceful ; " I have loved my grandmother 
 better than any one in the world." 
 
 The door opened a little way. 
 
 " Have you suffered for her whom you have loved ?" re- 
 sumed the voice. 
 
 "I have suffered," replied Graceful ; "much through my own 
 fault, doubtless, but a little for her whom I wished to save." 
 
 The door opened half way, and the child caught a glimpse 
 of woods, waters, and a sky more beautiful than any thing of 
 which he had ever dreamed. 
 
 " Have you always done your duty ?" said the voice, in a 
 harsher tone. 
 
 " Alas ! no," replied Graceful, falling on his knees ; " but 
 when I have failed I have been punished by my remorse even 
 more than by the hard trials through which I have passed. 
 Forgive me, and punish me as I deserve, if I have not yet ex- 
 piated all my faults ; but save her whom I love save my 
 grandmother." 
 
 The door instantly opened wide, though Graceful saw no 
 one. Intoxicated with joy, he entered a court-yard surround- 
 ed with arbors embowered in foliage, with a fountain in the 
 midst, spouting from a tuft of flowers larger, more beautiful, 
 and more fragrant than any he had seen on earth. By the 
 side of the spring stood a woman dressed in white, of noble 
 bearing, and seemingly not more than forty years old. She 
 advanced to meet Graceful, and smiled on him so sweetly 
 that the child felt himself touched to the heart, and his eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
The Castle of Life. 107 
 
 " Don't you know me ?" said the woman. 
 
 " Oh, grandmother ! is it you ?" he exclaimed. " How came 
 you in the Castle of Life ?" 
 
 " My child," said she, pressing him to her heart, " He who 
 brought me here is an enchanter more powerful than the 
 fairies of the woods and the waters. I shall never more re- 
 turn to Salerno. I shall receive my reward here for the little 
 good I have done by tasting a happiness which time will not 
 destroy." 
 
 " And me, grandmother !" cried Graceful, " what will be- 
 come of me ? After seeing you here, how can I return to suf- 
 fer alone?" 
 
 " My dear child," she replied, " no one can live on earth 
 after he has caught a glimpse of the celestial delights of this 
 abode. You have lived, my dear Graceful ; life has nothing 
 more to teach you. You have passed in four days through 
 the desert where I languished eighty years, and henceforth 
 nothing can separate us." 
 
 The door closed, and from that time nothing was heard of 
 Graceful or his grandmother. It was in vain that search was 
 made for the palace and enchanted fountain ; they were never 
 more discovered on earth. But if we understood the language 
 of the stars, if we felt what their gentle rays tell us every even- 
 ing, we should long ago have learned from them where to look 
 for the Castle of Life and the Fountain of Immortality. 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 A DALMATIAN TALE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there were two brothers, who lived to- 
 gether in one family. One did every thing, while the other 
 was an idle fellow, who troubled himself about nothing but 
 eating and drinking. The harvests were always magnificent ; 
 they had cows, horses, sheep, pigs, bees, and every thing else 
 in plenty. 
 
 The elder brother, who did every thing, said to himself one 
 day, " Why should I work for this idler ? It is better for us 
 to separate ; I will work for myself alone, and he can do as 
 he likes." He said to his brother, therefore, 
 
 " Brother, it is not just for me to do every thing, while you 
 trouble yourself about nothing but eating and drinking ; we 
 must separate." 
 
 His brother tried to dissuade him from his plan, saying, 
 
 " Brother, don't do this, we are so well off as we are. You 
 have every thing in your own hands ; what is mine is yours ; 
 and you know that I am always satisfied with what you do or 
 order done." 
 
 The elder, however, persisted in his resolution till the youn- 
 ger was forced to yield. " Since it must be so," said he, " I am. 
 not angry; divide the property as you like." 
 
 The division made, each took his share. The idler hired a 
 drover for his cattle, a groom for his horses, a shepherd for 
 his sheep, a goatherd for his goats, a swineherd for his hogs, 
 and a keeper for his bees, and said to them all, " I intrust my 
 
Destiny. 109 
 
 property to you : may God have you in his keeping." And 
 he continued to stay at home with no more care than be- 
 fore. 
 
 The elder, on the contrary, labored for himself as he had 
 done for the common good ; he kept his own flocks, and had 
 an eye to every thing ; yet, in spite of all this, he found bad 
 luck and misfortune every where ; every thing went wrong 
 with him, until at last he was so poor that he had not even a 
 pair of shoes, but was forced to go barefoot. He said to him- 
 self, " I will go to my brother's house, and see how affairs 
 are prospering with him." 
 
 His road lay through a pasture in which a flock of sheep 
 was feeding. On approaching them he saw that they had no 
 shepherd. A beautiful young girl was seated near them, with 
 her distaff, spinning gold thread. 
 
 He saluted the young girl, and asked her to whom the flock 
 belonged. 
 
 " To him to whom I belong belong also these sheep," an- 
 swered she. 
 
 " And who are you ?" said he. 
 
 " I am your brother's fortune ?" she replied. 
 
 " And where is my fortune ?" he exclaimed, seized with 
 anger and envy. 
 
 " Ah ! she is far from you," said the young girl. 
 
 "Can I find her?" asked he. 
 
 "You can," she replied, "if you only look yonder." 
 
 On hearing these words, and seeing that the sheep were 
 the finest that could be imagined, he had no wish to see the 
 other flocks, but went straight to his brother, who, as soon as 
 he saw him, burst into tears, moved with pity. 
 
 "Where have you been so long?" asked he. And, seeing 
 him clothed in rags and barefooted, he gave him a pair of 
 shoes and some money. 
 
1 10 Fairy Book. 
 
 After staying three days in his brother's house, the poor 
 man set out for home. No sooner had he reached his house 
 than he threw a bag across his shoulder, with a piece of bread 
 in it, took a staff in his hand, and set out to seek his fortune. 
 
 After walking for some time he found himself in a great 
 forest, where he saw a wretched old hag asleep under a tree. 
 He gave her a blow on the back with his staff to awaken her. 
 She moved with difficulty, and, half opening her bleared eyes, 
 said to him, " Thank God that I was asleep, for if I had been 
 awake you would not have had those shoes." 
 
 " Who are you, then," asked he, " that would have prevent- 
 ed my having these shoes ?" 
 
 " I am your fortune," answered the old woman. 
 
 " What ! are you my fortune ?" cried he, striking his breast. 
 " May God exterminate you ! Who gave you to me ?" 
 
 " It was Destiny," replied the old woman. 
 
 "Where is Destiny?" he asked. 
 
 " Go and find him," said the old woman, lying down to 
 sleep again. 
 
 He set out in search of Destiny. After a long, long jour- 
 ney, at length he reached a wood, where he found a hermit, 
 of whom he asked the way to the abode of Destiny. 
 
 "Go straight up yonder mountain, and you will find his 
 castle," answered the hermit ; " but when you find him, take 
 care not to speak to him, but only do all that you see him do." 
 
 The traveler thanked the hermit, and took his way to the 
 mountain. When he reached the abode of Destiny, he saw a 
 magnificent palace full of servants constantly bustling about 
 and doing nothing. As to Destiny, he was supping at a table 
 bountifully served. When the stranger saw this, he also sat 
 down at the table and supped with the master of the house. 
 After supper Destiny went to bed, and his guest did the same. 
 
 At midnight a terrible noise was heard in the castle, and a 
 
Destiny. 1 1 1 
 
 voice cried, " Destiny, Destiny, such a number of souls have 
 come into the world this night ; give them something accord- 
 ing to thy good pleasure." 
 
 And behold ! Destiny rose, and opened a golden chest 
 filled with shining guineas, which he scattered by handfuls 
 about the room, saying, " Such as I am to-day, such shalt thou 
 be all thy life !" 
 
 At daybreak the beautiful castle had vanished, and in its 
 place stood an ordinary house, in which, however, nothing was 
 wanting. When evening came, Destiny sat down to supper. 
 His guest did the same, but no one spoke a word. Supper 
 over, they went to bed. At midnight a terrible noise was 
 heard, and a voice cried, " Destiny, Destiny, such a number 
 of souls have come into the world this night; give them 
 something according to thy good pleasure." 
 
 And behold ! Destiny rose, and opened a silver chest, but 
 this time there were no guineas in it, but only silver coin, with 
 a few small pieces of gold, which Destiny scattered on the 
 floor, saying, " Such as I am to-day, such shalt thou be all thy 
 life !" 
 
 At daybreak this house had also disappeared, and a small- 
 er one stood in its place. The same thing happened every 
 night, and every morning the house was smaller, until finally 
 there was nothing but a wretched hut. Destiny now took a 
 spade and began to dig the ground. His guest did the same, 
 and both worked all day. When night came, Destiny took a 
 crust of bread, and, breaking it in two, gave half to his com- 
 panion. This was all their supper. When they had eaten it 
 they went to bed. 
 
 At midnight a terrible noise was heard, and a voice cried 
 out, " Destiny, Destiny, such a number of souls have come 
 into the world this night ; give them something according to 
 thy good pleasure." 
 
1 1 2 Fairy Book. 
 
 And behold ! Destiny rose, and opened a wooden chest 
 filled with pebbles mixed with a few copper coins, which he 
 scattered on the ground, saying, " Such as I am to-day, such 
 shalt thou be all thy life !" 
 
 When morning dawned the cabin was changed into a splen- 
 did palace, as on the first day. Then, for the first time, Des- 
 tiny spoke to his guest. " Why did you come here ?" asked he. 
 
 The poor man told him the whole story of his wretched- 
 ness, and how he had come to ask Destiny himself why he 
 had given him such a bad fortune. 
 
 " You saw what I was the first night, when I scattered guin- 
 eas, and what followed," replied Destiny. " Such as I am on 
 the night that a man is born, such will that man be all his life. 
 You were born on a night of poverty ; you will always be poor. 
 Your brother, on the contrary, came into the world on a lucky 
 night ; he will always be fortunate. But, since you have taken 
 so much trouble to find me, I will tell you how to help your- 
 self. Your brother has a daughter by the name of Miliza, 
 who is as fortunate as her father. Take her for your wife 
 when you return home, but be careful always to say that all 
 that you have belongs to her." 
 
 The poor man thanked Destiny again and again, and set 
 out for home. As soon as he arrived, he went straight to 
 his brother's house and said, 
 
 " Brother, give me Miliza for a wife ; you see that I am all 
 alone in the world." 
 
 "I am willing," answered his brother ; " Miliza is yours." 
 
 The bridegroom carried Miliza to his house. He soon be- 
 came very rich, but he always took good care to say, "All that 
 I have belongs to Miliza." 
 
 One day, however, as he was admiring his wheat, which was 
 the most beautiful that ever was seen, a stranger passed by 
 and asked, " Whose wheat is this ?" 
 
Destiny. 113 
 
 " It is mine," answered he, without thinking. But scarcely 
 had he spoken, when behold ! the wheat took fire, and ' the 
 flames spread all over the field. Without stopping to put it 
 out, he ran after the traveler, crying, " Stop, sir, I was mis- 
 taken ; it belongs to Miliza, my brother's daughter." 
 
 The fire went out at once of its own accord. He had 
 learned a good lesson which he never forgot, and from that 
 time thenceforth he was fortunate, thanks to Miliza. 
 
THE TWELVE MONTHS. 
 
 A BOHEMIAN TALE. 
 
 THERE was once a woman who was left a widow with two 
 children. The elder, who was only her step-daughter, was 
 named Dobrunka ; the younger, who was as wicked as her 
 mother, was called Katinka. The mother worshiped her 
 daughter, but she hated Dobrunka, simply because she was 
 as beautiful as her sister was ugly. Dobrunka did not even 
 know that she was pretty, and she could not understand why 
 her step-mother flew into a rage at the mere sight of her. 
 The poor child was obliged to do all the work of the house ; 
 she had to sweep, cook, wash, sew, spin, weave, cut the grass, 
 and take care of the cow, while Katinka lived like a princess, 
 that is to say, did nothing. 
 
 Dobrunka worked with a good will, and took reproaches 
 and blows with the gentleness of a lamb ; but nothing soothed 
 her step-mother, for every day added to the beauty of the eld- 
 er sister and the ugliness of the younger. " They are grow- 
 ing up," thought the mother, " and suitors will soon appear, 
 who will refuse my daughter when they see this hateful Do- 
 brunka, who grows beautiful on purpose to spite me. I must 
 get rid of her, cost what it may." 
 
 One day in the middle of January, Katinka took a fancy 
 for some violets. She called Dobrunka, and said, " Go to the 
 forest and bring me a bunch of violets, that I may put them 
 in my bosom and enjoy their fragrance." 
 
 " Oh, sister, what an idea !" answered Dobrunka ; " as if 
 i here were any violets under the snow !" 
 
The Twelve Months. 1 1 5 
 
 " Hold your tongue, stupid fool," returned her sister, " and 
 do as I bid you. If you do not go to the forest and bring me 
 back a bunch of violets, I will beat you to a jelly." Upon 
 this, the mother took Dobrunka by the arm, put her out of 
 the door, and drew the bolt on her. 
 
 The poor girl went to the forest weeping bitterly. Every 
 thing was covered with snow ; there was not even a foot-path. 
 She lost her way, and wandered about till, famishing with 
 hunger and perishing with cold, she entreated God to take 
 her from this wretched life. 
 
 All at once she saw a light in the distance. She went on, 
 climbing higher and higher, until at last she reached the top 
 of a huge rock, upon which a great fire was built. Around 
 the fire were twelve stones, and on each stone sat a motion- 
 less figure, wrapped in a large mantle, his head covered with 
 a hood which fell over his eyes. Three of these mantles were 
 white like the snow, three were green like the grass of the 
 meadows, three were golden like the sheaves of ripe wheat, 
 and three were purple like the grapes of the vine. These 
 twelve figures, gazing at the fire in silence, were the Twelve 
 Months of the year. 
 
 Dobrunka knew January by his long white beard. He was 
 the only one that had a staff in his hand. The poor girl was 
 terribly frightened. She drew near, saying, in a timid voice, 
 " My good sirs, please to let me warm myself by your fire ; I 
 am freezing with cold." 
 
 January nodded his head. " Why have you come here, my 
 child ?" he asked. " What are you looking for ?" 
 
 " I am looking for violets," replied Dobrunka. 
 
 " This is not the season for them ; there are no violets in 
 the time of snow," said January, in his gruff voice. 
 
 " I know it," replied Dobrunka, sadly ; " but my sister and 
 mother will beat me to a jelly if I do not bring them some. 
 My good sirs, please to tell me where I can find them." 
 
n6 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 Old January rose, and, turning to a young man in a green 
 mantle, put his staff in his hand, and said to him, " Brother 
 March, this is your business." 
 
The Twelve Months. 117 
 
 March rose in turn, and stirred the fire with the staff, when 
 behold ! the flames rose, the snow melted, the buds put forth 
 on the trees, the grass turned green under the bushes, the 
 flowers peeped through the verdure, and the violets opened- 
 it was spring. 
 
 "Make haste, my child, and gather your violets," said 
 March. 
 
 Dobrunka gathered a large bouquet, thanked the Twelve 
 Months, and joyfully ran home. You can imagine the aston- 
 ishment of Katinka and the step-mother. The fragrance of 
 the violets filled the whole house. 
 
 " Where did you find these fine things ?" asked Katinka, in 
 a disdainful voice. 
 
 " Up yonder, on the mountain," answered her sister. " It 
 looked like a great blue carpet under the bushes." 
 
 Katinka put the bouquet in her bosom, and did not even 
 thank the poor child. 
 
 The next morning the wicked sister, as she sat idling by the 
 stove, took a fancy for some strawberries. 
 
 " Go to the forest and bring me some strawberries," said 
 she to Dobrunka. 
 
 " Oh, sister, what an idea ! as if there were any strawberries 
 under the snow!" 
 
 " Hold your tongue, stupid fool, and do as I bid you. If 
 you don't go to the forest and bring me back a basket of 
 strawberries, I will beat you to a jelly." 
 
 The mother took Dobrunka by the arm, put her out of the 
 door, and drew the bolt on her. 
 
 The poor girl returned to the forest, looking with all her 
 eyes for the light that she had seen the day before. She was 
 fortunate enough to spy it, and she reached the fire trembling 
 and almost frozen. 
 
 The Twelve Months were in their places, motionless and 
 
1 1 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 " My good sirs," said Dobrunka, " please to let me warm 
 myself by your fire ; I am almost frozen with cold." 
 
 "Why have you returned?" asked January. "What are 
 you looking for ?" 
 
 " I am looking for strawberries," answered she. 
 
 " This is not the season for them," returned January, in his 
 gruff voice ; "there are no strawberries under the snow." 
 
 " I know it," replied Dobrunka, sadly ; " but my mother 
 and sister will beat me to a jelly if I do not bring them some. 
 My good sirs, please to tell me where I can find them." 
 
 Old January rose, and, turning to a man in a golden man- 
 tle, he put his staff in his hand, saying, " Brother June, this is 
 your business." 
 
 June rose in turn, and stirred the fire with the staff, when 
 behold ! the flames rose, the snow melted, the earth grew 
 green, the trees were covered with leaves, the birds sang, 
 and the flowers opened it was summer. Thousands of 
 little white stars enameled the turf, then turned to red straw- 
 berries, looking, in their green cups, like rubies set in emer- 
 alds. 
 
 " Make haste, my child, and gather your strawberries," said 
 June. 
 
 Dobrunka filled her apron, thanked the Twelve Months, 
 and joyfully ran home. You may imagine the astonishment 
 of Katinka and the step-mother. The fragrance of the straw- 
 berries filled the whole house. 
 
 " Where did you find these fine things ?" asked Katinka, in 
 a disdainful voice. 
 
 " Up yonder on the mountain," answered her sister ; " there 
 were so many of them that they looked like blood poured on 
 the ground. 
 
 Katinka and her mother devoured the strawberries without 
 even thanking the poor child. 
 
The Twelve Months. 119 
 
 The third day the wicked sister took a fancy for some red 
 apples. The same threats, the same insults, and the same vi- 
 olence followed. Dobrunka ran to the mountain, and was 
 fortunate enough to find the Twelve Months warming them- 
 selves, motionless and silent. 
 
 " You here again, my child?" said old January, making room 
 for her by the fire. Dobrunka told him, with tears, how, if 
 she did not bring home some red apples, her mother and sis- 
 ter would beat her to death. 
 
 Old January repeated the ceremonies of the day before. 
 " Brother September," said he to a gray-bearded man in a 
 purple mantle, "this is your business." 
 
 September rose and stirred the fire with the staff, when be- 
 hold ! the flames ascended, the snow melted, and the trees 
 put forth a few yellow leaves, which fell one by one before the 
 wind it was autumn. The only flowers were a few late 
 pinks, daisies, and immortelles. Dobrunka saw but one thing, 
 an apple-tree with its rosy fruit. 
 
 " Make haste, my child ; shake the tree," said Septem- 
 ber. 
 
 She shook it, and an apple fell ; she shook it again, and a 
 second apple followed. 
 
 " Make haste, Dobrunka, make haste home !" cried Septem- 
 ber, in an imperious voice. 
 
 The good child thanked the Twelve Months, and joyfully 
 ran home. You may imagine the astonishment of Katinka 
 and the step-mother. 
 
 " Green apples in January ! , Where- did you get these ap- 
 ples ?" asked Katinka. 
 
 " Up yonder on the mountain ; there is a tree there that is 
 as red with them as a cherry-tree in July." 
 
 " Why did you bring only two ? You ate the rest on the 
 way." 
 
I2O Fairy Book. 
 
 " Oh, sister, I did not touch them ; I was only permitted to 
 shake the tree twice, and but two apples fell." 
 
 " Begone, you fool !" cried Katinka, striking her sister, who 
 ran away crying. 
 
 The wicked girl tasted one of the apples j she had never 
 eaten any thing so delicious in her life, neither had her moth- 
 er. How they regretted not having any more ! 
 
 " Mother," said Katinka, " give me my fur cloak. I will go 
 to the forest and find the tree, and, whether I am permitted or 
 not, I will shake it so hard that all the apples will be ours." 
 
 The mother tried to stop her. A spoiled child listens to 
 nothing. Katinka wrapped herself in her fur cloak, drew the 
 hood over her head, and hastened to the forest. 
 
 Every thing was covered with snow ; there was not even a 
 foot-path. Katinka lost her way, but she pushed on, spurred 
 by pride and covetousness. She spied a light in the distance. 
 She climbed and climbed till she reached the place, and found 
 the Twelve Months each seated on his stone, motionless and 
 silent. Without asking their permission, she approached the 
 fire. 
 
 " Why have you come here ? What do you want ? Where 
 are you going ?" asked old January, gruffly. 
 
 " What matters it to you, old fool ?" answered Katinka. " It 
 is none of your business where I came from or whither I am 
 going." She plunged into the forest. January frowned, and 
 raised his staff above his head. In the twinkling of an eye 
 the sky was overcast, the fire went out, the snow fell, and the 
 wind blew. Katinka could not see the way before her. She 
 lost herself, and vainly tried to retrace her steps. The snow 
 fell and the wind blew. She called her mother, she cursed 
 her sister, she cursed God. The snow fell and the wind blew. 
 Katinka froze, her limbs stiffened, and she fell motionless. 
 The snow still fell and the wind still blew. 
 
The Twelve Months. 121 
 
 The mother went without ceasing from the window to the 
 door, and from the door to the window. The hours passed, 
 and Katinka did not return. 
 
 " I must go and look for my daughter," said she. " The 
 child has forgotten herself with those hateful apples." She 
 took her fur cloak and hood, and hastened to the mountain. 
 Every thing was covered with snow ; there was not even a 
 foot-path. She plunged into the forest, calling her daughter. 
 The snow fell and the wind blew. She walked on with fever- 
 ish anxiety, shouting at the top of her voice. The snow still 
 fell and the wind still blew. 
 
 Dobrunka waited through the evening and the night, but no 
 one returned. In the morning she took her wheel and spun 
 a whole distaff full ; there was still no news. " What can 
 have happened ?" said the good girl, weeping. The sun was 
 shining through an icy mist, and the ground was covered with 
 snow. Dobrunka prayed for her mother and sister. They 
 did not return ; and it was not till spring that a shepherd 
 found the two corpses in the forest 
 
 Dobrunka remained the sole mistress of the house, the cow, 
 and the garden, to say nothing of a piece of meadow adjoin- 
 ing the house. But when a good and pretty girl has a field 
 under her window, the next thing that follows is a young farm- 
 er, who offers her his heart and hand. Dobrunka was soon 
 married. The Twelve Months did not abandon their child. 
 More than once, when the north wind blew fearfully and the 
 windows shook in their frames, old January stopped up all the 
 crevices of the house with snow, so that the cold might not 
 enter this peaceful abode. 
 
 Dobrunka lived to a good old age, always virtuous and 
 happy, having, according to the proverb, winter at the door, 
 summer in the barn, autumn in the cellar, and spring in the 
 heart. 
 
 F 
 
SSWANDA, THE PIPER. 
 
 A BOHEMIAN TALE. 
 
 SSWANDA, the Piper, was a jolly companion. Like every 
 true musician, he was born with an unquenchable thirst ; be- 
 sides, he was madly fond of play, and would have risked his 
 soul at strajak, the favorite game at cards in Bohemia. When 
 he had earned a little money, he would throw aside his pipes, 
 and drink and play with the first comer till he returned to his 
 home as light in pocket as when he had left it. But he was 
 always so merry, witty, and good-natured that not a drinker 
 ever left the table while the piper was there, and his name 
 still lives in Bohemia as the prince of good fellows. 
 
 One day there was a festival at Mokran, and no merry- 
 making was ever complete without the piper. Sswanda, after 
 blowing his pipe till midnight and earning twenty zwanzigers, 
 determined to amuse himself on his own account. Neither 
 prayers nor promises could persuade him to go on with his 
 music ; he was determined to drink his fill and to shuffle the 
 cards at his ease ; but, for the first time in his life, he found 
 no one to play with him. 
 
 Sswanda was not the man to quit the inn so long as he 
 had a kreutzer in his pocket, and on that day he had many 
 of them. By dint of talking, laughing, and drinking, he took 
 one of those fixed ideas which are not uncommon among 
 those who look too often in the bottom of their glass, and de- 
 termined to play at any price ; but all his neighbors refused 
 his challenge. Furious at finding no partner, he rose with an 
 unsteady step, paid for what he had drank, and left the inn, 
 
Sswanda, the Piper. 
 
 123 
 
 " I will go to Drazic," said he j " the schoolmaster and the 
 bailiff there are honest peo- 
 ple who are not afraid of 
 play, and I shall find part- 
 ners. Hurrah !" 
 
 The night was clear, and 
 the moon shone like a fish's 
 eye. On reaching a cross- 
 road, Sswanda raised his 
 eyes by chance, and stop- 
 ped mute and motionless. 
 A flock of ravens were 
 croaking over his head, and 
 in front of him rose four 
 posts, standing like pillars, 
 and connected at the top 
 by cross-beams, from each 
 of which swung a half-de- 
 voured corpse. It was a 
 robbers' gallows, a specta- 
 cle by no means amusing 
 to a less stoical spirit than 
 that of Sswanda. 
 
 He had not recovered 
 from the first shudder when 
 suddenly there appeared 
 before him a man dressed 
 in black, with pale and 
 hollow cheeks, and eyes 
 that glittered like carbun- 
 cles. 
 
 "Where are you going 
 so late, friend Piper?" asked he, in a soft voice. 
 
124 Fairy Book. 
 
 " To Drazic, Mr. Black Coat," answered the intrepid 
 Sswanda. 
 
 " Would you like to earn something by your music ?" 
 
 " I am tired of blowing," returned Sswanda. " I have some 
 silver in my pocket, and wish to amuse myself." 
 
 " Who talks to you of silver ? It is with gold that we pay." 
 
 Saying this, the stranger flashed before his eyes a handful 
 of shining ducats. The piper was the son of a thrifty moth- 
 er ; he knew not how to resist such an invitation, and followed 
 the black man and his gold. 
 
 How the time passed he never could remember. It is true 
 that his head was a little heavy. The only thing that he rec- 
 ollected was that the black man warned him to accept what- 
 ever was offered him, whether gold or wine, but never to re- 
 turn thanks except by saying " Good luck, brother !" 
 
 Without knowing how he had entered, he found himself in 
 a dark room where three men, dressed in black like his guide, 
 were playing at strajak by no other light than their glittering 
 eyes. On the table were piles of gold, and a jug from which 
 each one drank in his turn. 
 
 " Brothers," said the black man, " I bring you friend Sswan- 
 da, whom you have long known by reputation. I thought to 
 please you on this feast-day by giving you a little music." 
 
 " A good idea !" said one of the players. Then, taking the 
 jug, he handed it to Sswanda, saying, " Here, piper, drink and 
 play." 
 
 Sswanda had some scruples ; but, after all, it is impossible 
 to have charcoal without putting your finger? into the ashes. 
 The wine, though rather warm, was not bad. He replaced 
 the jug on the table, and, raising his hat, said, "Good luck, 
 brother !" as he had been advised. 
 
 He began to play, and never had his music produced such 
 an effect. Each note made the players leap for joy. Their 
 
Sswanda, the Piper. 123 
 
 eyes shot forth flames ; they moved about uneasily in their 
 chairs ; they staked the ducats by handfuls ; they shouted and 
 burst into loud fits of laughter without stirring a muscle of 
 their pallid faces. The jug passed from hand to hand, always 
 full, though replenished by no one. 
 
 As soon as Sswanda finished an air, they handed him the 
 jug, from which he never failed to drink deeply, and threw 
 handfuls of gold into his hat. " Good luck, brother !" he re- 
 peated, astounded at his fortune " good luck !" 
 
 The feast lasted a long time. At last, the piper having 
 struck up a polka, the black men, in a transport of mirth, 
 quitted the table, and danced and waltzed with an ardor and 
 frenzy which ill accorded with their icy faces. One of the 
 dancers gathered up all the gold that was heaped on the table, 
 and, pouring it into Sswanda's hat, " Here," said he, " take 
 this for the pleasure that you have given us." 
 
 " God bless you, my good lords !" said the dazzled piper. 
 Scarcely had he spoken when men, room, and cards vanished. 
 
 In the morning a peasant on his way to the fields heard 
 the sound of a pipe as he approached the cross-road. " It is 
 Sswanda," said he. But where was the piper ? Seated on a 
 corner of the gallows, he was blowing with all his might, while 
 the corpses of the robbers danced in the wind to his music. 
 
 " Halloo, comrade !" cried the peasant, " how long have you 
 been playing the cuckoo up there ?" 
 
 Sswanda started, dropped his pipe, opened his eyes, and 
 glided, bewildered, down the gallows. His first thought, how- 
 ever, was for his ducats. He rummaged his pockets, and 
 turned his hat inside out, but all in vain ; there was not even 
 a kreutzer ! 
 
 " My friend," said the peasant, making the sign of the cross, 
 " God has punished you by giving you the devil for a partner j 
 you love cards too well." 
 
i?6 Fairy Book. 
 
 " You are right," said Sswanda, trembling ; " I will never 
 touch them again in my life." 
 
 He kept his word j and, to thank Heaven for having pre- 
 served him from such peril, he took the fatal pipe to which 
 the devil had danced, and suspended it as a votive offering in 
 the church of Strakonic, his birth-place, where it may be seec 
 to this day. The pipe of Strakonic has become a proverb, 
 and it is even said that its sound is heard every year at the 
 day and hour when Sswanda played for Satan and his friends. 
 
THE GOLD BREAD. 
 
 A HUNGARIAN TALE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a widow who had a beautiful 
 daughter. The mother was modest and humble j the daugh- 
 ter, Marienka, was pride itself. She had suitors from all 
 sides, but none satisfied her ; the more they tried to please 
 her, the more she disdained them. 
 
 One night, when the poor mother could not sleep, she took 
 her beads and began to pray for her dear child, who gave 
 her more than one care. Marienka was asleep by her side. 
 As the mother gazed lovingly at her beautiful daughter, Ma- 
 rienka laughed in her sleep. 
 
 " What a beautiful dream she must have to laugh in this 
 way !" said the mother. Then she finished her prayer, hung 
 her beads on the wall, laid her head on the same pillow with 
 her daughter, and fell asleep. 
 
 " My dear child," said she in the morning, " what did you 
 dream last night that you laughed so ?" 
 
 " What did I dream, mamma ? I dreamed that a nobleman 
 came here for me in a copper coach, and that he put a ring 
 on my finger set with a stone that sparkled like the stars. 
 And when I entered the church, the people had eyes for no 
 one but the blessed Virgin and me." 
 
 " My daughter, my daughter, that was a proud dream !" 
 said the mother, shaking her head. But Marienka went out 
 singing. 
 
 The same day a wagon entered the yard. A handsome 
 
128 Fairy Book. 
 
 young farmer in good circumstances came to ask Marienka 
 to share a peasant's bread with him. The mother was pleased 
 with the suitor, but the proud Marienka refused him, saying, 
 " Though you should come in a copper coach, and put a ring 
 on my ringer set with a stone that sparkled like the stars, I 
 would not have you for a husband." And the farmer went 
 away storming at Marienka's pride. 
 
 The next night the mother waked, took her beads, and 
 prayed still more earnestly for her daughter, when behold ! 
 Marienka laughed again as she was sleeping. 
 
 " I wonder what she is dreaming," said the mother, who 
 prayed, unable to sleep. 
 
 " My dear child," she said the next morning, " what did 
 you dream last night that you laughed aloud ?" 
 
 " What did I dream, mamma ? I dreamed that a nobleman 
 came here for me in a silver coach, and that he offered me a 
 golden diadem. And when I entered the church, the people 
 looked at me more than they did at the blessed Virgin." 
 
 "Hush! you are blaspheming. Pray, my daughter, pray 
 that you may not fall into temptation." 
 
 But Marienka ran away to escape her mother's sermon. 
 
 The same day a carriage entered the yard. A young lord 
 came to entreat Marienka to share a nobleman's bread with 
 him. 
 
 " It is a great honor," said the mother ; but vanity is blind. 
 
 " Though you should come in a silver coach," said Marien- 
 ka to the new suitor, " and should offer me a golden diadem, 
 I would not have you for a husband." 
 
 " Take care, my child," said the poor mother ; " pride is a 
 device of the Evil One." 
 
 " Mothers never know what they are saying," thought Mari- 
 enka, and she went out shrugging her shoulders. 
 
 The third night the mother could not sleep for anxiety. As 
 
The Gold Bread. 129 
 
 she lay awake, praying for her daughter, behold ! Marienka 
 burst into a loud fit of laughter. 
 
 " Oh !" said the mother, " what can the unhappy child be 
 dreaming now ?" And she continued to pray till daylight. 
 
 " My dear child," said she in the morning, " what did you 
 dream last night ?" 
 
 " You will be angry again if I tell you," answered Marienka, 
 
 " No, no," replied the mother ; " tell me.". 
 
 " I dreamed that a noble lord, with a great train of attend- 
 ants, came to ask me in marriage. He was in a golden coach, 
 and he brought me a dress of gold lace. And when I entered 
 the church, the people looked at nobody but me." 
 
 The mother clasped her hands. Marienka, half dressed, 
 sprang from the bed and ran into the next room, to avoid a 
 lecture that was tiresome to her. 
 
 The same day three coaches entered the yard, one of cop- 
 per, one of silver, and one of gold ; the first drawn by two 
 horses, the second by four, and the third by eight, all capari- 
 soned with gold and pearls. From the copper and silver 
 coaches alighted pages dressed in scarlet breeches and green 
 jackets and cloaks, while from the golden coach stepped a 
 handsome nobleman all dressed in gold. He entered the 
 house, and, bending one knee on the ground, asked the moth- 
 er for her daughter's hand. 
 
 " What an honor !" thought the mother. 
 
 " My dream has come to pass," said Marienka. " You see, 
 mother, that, as usual, I was right and you were wrong." 
 
 She ran to her chamber, tied the betrothal knot, and offered 
 it smilingly as a pledge of her faith to the handsome lord, who, 
 on his side, put a ring on her finger set with a stone that 
 sparkled like the stars, and presented her with a golden dia- 
 dem and a dress of gold lace. 
 
 The proud girl ran to her room to dress for the ceremony, 
 F 2 
 
1 3 o 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 while the mother, still anxious, said to the bridegroom, " My 
 good sir, what bread do you offer my daughter ?" 
 
 " Among us," said he, " the bread is of copper, silver, and 
 gold : che can take her choice." 
 
 " What does this mean ?" thought the mother. But Mari- 
 enka had no anxiety ; she returned as beautiful as the sun, 
 took her lover's arm, and set out for the church without ask- 
 ing her mother's blessing. The poor woman was left to pray 
 
 alone on the threshold ; and when Marienka returned and 
 entered the carriage, she did not even turn round to look at 
 her mother or to bid her a last farewell. 
 
The Gold Bread. 131 
 
 The eight horses set off at a gallop, and did not stop till 
 they reached a huge rock, in which there was a hole as large 
 as the gate of a city. The horses plunged into the darkness, 
 the earth trembled, and the rock cracked and crumbled. 
 Marienka seized her husband's hand. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my fair one ; in a moment it will be 
 light" 
 
 All at once a thousand lights waved in the air. The dwarfs 
 of the mountain, each with a torch in his hand, came to salute 
 their lord, the King of the Mines. Marienka learned for the 
 first time her husband's name. Whether he was a spirit of 
 good or of evil, at least he was so rich that she did not regret 
 her choice. 
 
 They emerged from the darkness, and advanced through 
 bleached forests and mountains that raised their pale and 
 gloomy summits to the skies. Firs, beeches, birches, oaks, 
 rocks, all were of lead. At the end of the forest stretched a 
 vast meadow, the grass of which was of silver ; and at the 
 bottom of the meadow was a castle of gold, inlaid with dia- 
 monds and rubies. The carriage stopped before the door, 
 and the King of the Mines offered his hand to his bride, say- 
 ing, " My fair one, all that you see is yours." 
 
 Marienka was delighted. But it is impossible to make so 
 long a journey without being hungry ; and it was with pleas- 
 ure, therefore, that she saw the mountain dwarfs bring in a 
 table, every thing on which glittered with gold, silver, and 
 precious stones. The dishes were marvelous side-dishes of 
 emeralds, and roasts of gold on silver salvers. Every one ate 
 heartily except the bride, who begged her husband for a little 
 bread. 
 
 " Bring the copper bread," said the King of the Mines. 
 
 Marienka could not eat it. 
 
 " Bring the silver bread," said he. 
 
132 Fairy Book. 
 
 Marienka could not eat it. 
 
 " Bring the gold bread," said he, at length. 
 
 Marienka could not eat it. 
 
 " My fair one," said the King of the Mines, " I am very 
 sorry ; but what can I offer you ? We have no other bread." 
 
 The bride burst into tears. Her husband laughed aloud : 
 his heart was of metal, like his kingdom. 
 
 " Weep, if you like," he cried ; " it will do you no good. 
 What you wished for you possess : eat the bread that you 
 have chosen." 
 
 It was thus that the rich Marienka lived in her castle, dy- 
 ing of hunger, and seeking in vain for a root to allay the tor- 
 ture that was consuming her. God had humbled her by 
 granting her prayer. 
 
 Three days in the year, the Rogation Days, when the 
 ground half opens to receive the fruitful rain sent by the 
 Lord, Marienka returns to the earth. Dressed in rags, pale 
 and wrinkled, she begs from door to door, too happy when 
 any one throws her a few crusts, and when she receives as 
 alms from the poor what she lacks in her palace of gold a 
 little bread and a little pity. 
 
THE STORY OF THE NOSES. 
 
 A BOHEMIAN TALE. 
 
 AT Dewitz, in the neighborhood of Prague, there once lived 
 a rich and whimsical old farmer, who had a beautiful daugh- 
 ter. The students of Prague, of whom there were at that time 
 twenty-five thousand, often walked in the direction of Dewitz, 
 and more than one of them offered to follow the plow in hopes 
 of becoming the son-in-law of the farmer. The first condition 
 that the cunning peasant set on each new servant was this : " I 
 engage you," he would say, " for a year, that is, till the cuckoo 
 sings the return of spring ; but if, from now till then, you say 
 once that you are not satisfied, I will cut off the end of your 
 nose. I give you the same right over me," he added, laugh- 
 ing. And he did as he said. Prague was full of students 
 with the end of their nose glued on, which did not prevent an 
 ugly scar, and, still less, bad jokes. To return from the farm 
 disfigured and ridiculed was well calculated to cool the warm- 
 est passion. 
 
 A young man by the name of Coranda, somewhat ungainly 
 in manner, but cool, adroit, and cunning, which are not bad 
 aids in making one's fortune, took it in his head to try the ad- 
 venture. The farmer received him with his usual good na- 
 ture, and, the bargain made, sent him to the field to work. At 
 breakfast time the other servants were called, but good care 
 was taken to forget Coranda. At dinner it was the same. 
 Coranda gave himself no trouble about it. He went to the 
 house, and, while the farmer's wife was feeding the chickens, 
 unhooked an enormous ham from the kitchen rafters, took a 
 
134 Fairy Book. 
 
 huge loaf from the cupboard, and went back to the fields to 
 dine and take a nap. 
 
 " Are you satisfied ?" cried the farmer, when he returned at 
 night. 
 
 " Perfectly satisfied," said Coranda ; " I have dined better 
 than you have." 
 
 At that instant the farmer's wife came rushing in, crying 
 that her ham was gone. Coranda laughed, and the farmer 
 turned pale. 
 
 " Are you not satisfied ?" asked Coranda. 
 
 " A ham is only a ham," answered his master. " Such a 
 trifle does not trouble me." But after that time he took good 
 care not to leave the student fasting. 
 
 Sunday came. The farmer and his wife seated them- 
 selves in the wagon to go to church, saying to Coranda, " It 
 is your business to cook the dinner. Cut up the piece of 
 meat you see yonder, with onions, carrots, leeks, and pars- 
 ley, and boil them all together in the great pot over the 
 kitchen fire." 
 
 " Very well," answered Coranda. 
 
 There was a little pet dog at the farm-house by the name 
 of Parsley. Coranda killed him, skinned him, cut him up with 
 the meat and vegetables, and put the whole to boil over the 
 kitchen fire. When the farmer's wife returned, she called her 
 favorite ; but, alas ! she saw nothing but a bloody skin hang- 
 ing by the window. 
 
 " What have you done ?" said she to Coranda. 
 
 " What you ordered me, mistress. I have boiled the meat, 
 onions, carrots, and leeks, and parsley in the bargain." 
 
 " Wicked wretch !" cried the farmer, " had you the heart 
 to kill the innocent creature that was the joy of the house ?" 
 
 " Are you not satisfied ?" said Coranda, taking his knife 
 from his pocket. 
 
The Story of the Noses. 
 
 '35 
 
 " I did not not say that," returned the farmer. " A dead 
 dog is nothing but a dead dog." But he sighed. 
 
 A few days after, the farmer and his wife went to market. 
 Fearing their terrible servant, they said to him, " Stay at home, 
 and do exactly what you see others do." 
 
 " Very well," said Coranda. 
 
 There was an old shed in the yard, the roof of which was 
 falling to pieces. The carpenters came to repair it, and be- 
 gan, as usual, by tearing down the roof. Coranda took a lad- 
 der and mounted the 
 roof of the house, which 
 was quite new. Shin- 
 gles, lath, nails, and 
 tiles, he tore off every 
 thing, and scattered 
 them all to the winds. 
 When the farmer re- 
 turned, the house was 
 open to the sky. 
 
 "Villain!" said he, 
 "what new trick have 
 you played me ?" 
 
 " I have obeyed you, 
 master," answered Co- 
 randa. "You told me 
 to do exactly what I 
 saw others do. Are you 
 not satisfied?" And he 
 took out his knife. 
 
 " Satisfied !" return- 
 ed the farmer; "why 
 should I not be satisfied ? A few shingles more or less will 
 not ruin me." But he sighed. 
 
136 Fairy Book. 
 
 Night come, the farmer and his wife said to each other that 
 it was high time to get rid of this incarnate demon. As is 
 always the case with sensible people, they never did any thing 
 without consulting their daughter, it being the custom in Bo- 
 hemia to think that children always have more wit than their 
 parents. 
 
 " Father," said Helen, " I will hide in the great pear-tree 
 early in the morning, and call like the cuckoo. You can tell 
 Coranda that the year is up, since the cuckoo is singing ; pay 
 him, and send him away." 
 
 Early in the morning the plaintive cry of the cuckoo was 
 heard through the fields. The farmer seemed surprised. 
 " Well, my boy, spring is come," said he. " Do you hear the 
 cuckoo singing yonder ? I will pay you, and we will part good 
 friends." 
 
 " A cuckoo !" said Coranda ; " that is a bird which I have 
 always wanted to see." 
 
 He ran to the tree and shook it with all his might, when 
 behold ! a young girl fell from the branches, fortunately more 
 frightened than hurt. 
 
 " Villain !" cried the farmer. 
 
 " Are you not satisfied ?" said Coranda, opening his knife. 
 
 " Wretch ! you kill my daughter, and you think that I ought 
 to be satisfied ! I am furious. Begone, if you would not 
 die by my hand !" 
 
 " I will go when I have cut off your nose," said Coranda. 
 " I have kept my word, do you keep yours." 
 
 " Stop !" cried the farmer, putting his hand before his face 
 " you will surely let me redeem my nose ?" 
 
 " It depends on what you offer," said Coranda. 
 
 " Will you take ten sheep for it ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Ten cows?" 
 
The Story of the Noses. 137 
 
 " No ; I would rather cut off your nose." And he sharp- 
 ened his knife on the door-step. 
 
 " Father," said Helen, " the fault was mine ; it belongs to 
 me to repair it Coranda, will you take my hand instead of 
 my father's nose ?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Coranda. 
 
 "I make one condition," said the young girl. "We will 
 make the same bargain ; the first one of us that is not satis- 
 fied after marriage shall have his nose cut off by the other." 
 
 " Good," replied Coranda. " I would rather it was the 
 tongue but that will come next." 
 
 Never was a finer wedding seen at Prague, and never was 
 there a happier household. Coranda and the beautiful Helen 
 were a model pair. The husband and wife were never heard 
 to complain of each other ; they loved with drawn swords, 
 and, thanks to their ingenious bargain, kept for long years 
 both their love and their noses. 
 
THE THREE CITRONS. 
 
 A NEAPOLITAN TALE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived a king who was called the 
 King of the Vermilion Towers. He had but one son, whom 
 he loved as the apple of his eye, and who was the only hope 
 of a royal line about to become extinct. The old king's whole 
 ambition was to marry this illustrious prince to find him a 
 princess at once handsome, noble, young, and rich. He could 
 think of nothing but this wished-for marriage. 
 
 Unhappily, among all the virtues in which the heir to a 
 crown is never lacking, Carlino, for that was the young prince's 
 name, had the trifling fault of being shyer than a deer. He 
 shook his head and fled to the woods at the mere sound of 
 a woman's name, to the great grief of his father, who was in 
 despair at seeing his family about to die out. But his grief 
 was in vain : nothing touched the heart of Carlino. The tears 
 of a father, the prayers of a whole people, the interest of the 
 state, nothing could melt this stony heart. Twenty preachers 
 had wasted their eloquence and thirty senators their Latin in 
 reasoning with him. To be stubborn is one of the privileges 
 of royalty, as Carlino had known from his birth, and he would 
 have thought himself dishonored by being second to a mule 
 in obstinacy. 
 
 But more things often happen in an hour than in a hundred 
 years, and no one can say with safety, " This is a road that I 
 shall never travel." One morning at breakfast, as Carlino, in- 
 stead of listening to his father's sermon, was amusing himself 
 
The Three Citrons. 139 
 
 by watching the flies buzzing in the air, he forgot that he had 
 a knife in his hand, and pricked his finger in a gesture of im- 
 patience. The blood gushed forth and fell into a plate of 
 cream that had just been handed to him, where it made a 
 curious mixture of white and red. Either by chance or by 
 the punishment of Heaven, the prince was instantly seized 
 with the maddest caprice that could be imagined. 
 
 " Sir," said he to his father, " if I do not soon find a woman 
 as white and red as this cream dyed with my blood, I am 
 lost. This wonder must exist somewhere. I love her ; I am 
 dying for her ; I must have her ; I will have her. To a reso- 
 lute heart nothing is impossible. If you would have me live, 
 let me go in search of her, or before to-morrow I shall be 
 dead of loneliness." 
 
 The poor King of the Vermilion Towers was thunder- 
 struck at this folly. It seemed to him that his palace was 
 crumbling over his head ; he turned red and pale by turns, 
 stammered, wept, and finally cried, in a voice broken with 
 sobs, 
 
 " Oh, my child, the staff of my old age, my heart's blood, 
 the life of my soul, what an idea have you taken into your 
 head ! Have you lost your reason ? Yesterday you almost 
 made me die of sorrow by refusing to marry ; to-day you are 
 about to drive me from the world by another piece of folly. 
 Whither would you go, unhappy boy ? Why leave your home, 
 where you have been born and bred ? Do you know to what 
 danger and suffering the traveler exposes himself? Drive 
 away these perilous fancies, and stay with me, my child, if 
 you would not deprive me of life and destroy your kingdom 
 and house at one blow." 
 
 All these words, and others equally wise, had no more effect 
 than an official harangue. Carlino, his eye fixed and his brow 
 bent, listened to nothing but his passion. All that was said 
 
140 Fairy Book. 
 
 to him went in at one ear and out at the other ; it was elo- 
 quence cast to the winds. 
 
 When the old king, worn out with prayers and tears, per- 
 ceived that it was easier to melt a leaden weather-cock on its 
 steeple than a spoiled child in pursuit of his whim, he heaved 
 a deep sigh and determined to let Carlino go ; and giving 
 him counsels to which he scarcely listened, several bags rilled 
 with guineas, which were rather better received than the coun- 
 sels, and two trusty servants, the good king clasped his rebel- 
 lious son to his heart and bade him adieu, then mounted to 
 the top of the great tower to follow the ungrateful boy with 
 his eyes as far as he could see. When Carlino at last disap- 
 peared in the distance, the poor monarch thought that his 
 heart was breaking : he buried his face in his hands and wept, 
 not like a child, but like a father. The tears of a child are 
 like the summer rain, large drops that are soon dried up ; the 
 tears of a father are like the autumnal rain, which falls slowly 
 and soaks into the ground. 
 
 While the king wept, Carlino, mounted on a fine horse, 
 rode on gayly, his plume waving in the wind, like a hero 
 about to conquer the world. To find what he sought was not 
 an easy task, however, and his journey lasted more than one 
 day. He crossed mountains and valleys, traversed kingdoms, 
 duchies, earldoms, and baronies, and visited cities, villages, 
 castles, and cottages, gazing at all the women, and gazed at 
 by them in turn ; but all in vain : the treasure that he sought 
 was not to be found in old Europe. 
 
 At the end of four months he reached Marseilles, resolved 
 to embark for the Indies. At the sight of the raging sea, 
 however, his brave and faithful servants were seized with an 
 epidemic, called by the physicians stay-at-homeativeness in 
 Hebrew, and the headache in the feet in Latin. To the great 
 regret of these honest people, they were forced to quit their 
 
The Three Citrons. 141 
 
 good master and remain quietly on shore, wrapped in their 
 warm blankets, while Carlino, embarked on a frail bark, braved 
 the winds and waves. 
 
 Nothing can stop a heart hurried away by passion. The 
 prince roamed over Egypt, India, and China, going from prov- 
 ince to province, from city to city, from house to house, and 
 from cabin to cabin, every where seeking the original of the 
 fair image that was engraved on his heart, but in vain. He 
 saw women of all colors and shades, brown, blonde, olive, 
 sandy, white, yellow, red, and black, but he did not see her 
 whom he loved. 
 
 Always seeking and never finding, Carlino at last reached 
 the end of the world. There was nothing more before him 
 but the ocean and the sky. His hopes were at an end ; his 
 dream had vanished. As he was walking despairingly up and 
 down the sea-shore, he spied an old man warming himself in 
 the sun. The prince asked him if there was nothing beyond \ 
 these waves that stretched as far as the eye could reach. 
 
 " No," said the old man ; " no one has ever discovered any 
 thing in this shoreless ocean, or, at least, those who have ven- 
 tured on it have never returned to tell the story. I remem- 
 ber, however, having heard the old men among us say, when I 
 was a child," he added, " that their fathers had told them that 
 yonder, a long, long way off, far beyond the horizon, was the 
 Island of the Fates ; but woe to the imprudent man who ap- 
 proaches these merciless fairies ; he is struck with death at 
 their sight." 
 
 " What does that matter ?" cried Carlino ; " I would face 
 death itself to gain my wishes." 
 
 A bark lay by the strand. The prince sprang on board 
 and unfurled the sail. The wind, which blew off the shore, 
 hurried forward the frail craft, the land disappeared, and Car- 
 lino found himself in the midst of the ocean. In vain he 
 
142 Fairy Book. 
 
 gazed about him ; there was nothing but the sea the sea ev- 
 ery where ; In vain the bark bounded over the foaming waves 
 with the speed of lightning, like a steed with mane floating on 
 the wind ; there was nothing but the sea the sea every where. 
 Billows followed billows, the hours passed one after another, 
 the day declined, and the solitude and silence seemed to deep- 
 en around Carlino, when all at once he uttered a cry ; he saw 
 a black speck in the distance. At the same instant the bark, 
 shooting ahead like an arrow, struck upon the sand at the 
 foot of huge rocks, which raised their dark summits, notched 
 and worn by time, to the skies. Fate had thrown Carlino 
 upon that strand from which none had ever returned. 
 
 To climb this wall was not an easy matter ; there was nei- 
 ther road nor path ; and when Carlino, after long efforts, with 
 torn hands and wearied limbs, at last succeeded in reaching 
 a level spot, what he found was not calculated to reassure him. 
 He saw nothing but glaciers piled upon each other black, 
 damp rocks rising from the midst of the snows not a tree, not 
 a blade of grass, not a bit of moss : it was the picture of win- 
 ter and death. The only sign of life in this desert was a 
 wretched hovel, the roof of which was loaded with great stones 
 in order to resist the fury of the winds. The prince approach- 
 ed the hut, and was about to enter it, when he stopped short, 
 struck with surprise and terror at the spectacle which present- 
 ed itself. 
 
 At the end of the room was a great web of cloth, on which 
 were pictured all the conditions of life. There were kings, 
 soldiers, formers, and shepherds, with ladies richly dressed, 
 and peasant women spinning by their side. At the bottom 
 boys and girls were dancing gayly, holding each other by the 
 hand. Before the web walked the mistress of the house an 
 old woman, if the name woman can be given to a skeleton 
 with bones scarcely hidden by a skin yellower and more 
 
The Three Citrons. 143 
 
 transparent than wax. Like a spider ready to pounce upon 
 its prey, the old woman, armed with a great pair of shears, 
 peered at all the figures with a jealous eye, then suddenly fell 
 upon the web and cut it at random, when lo ! a piercing wail 
 rose from it that would have moved a heart of stone. The 
 tears of children, the sobs of mothers, the despair of lovers, 
 the last murmurs of old age, all human sorrow seemed min- 
 gled in this wail. At the sound the old woman burst into a 
 loud laugh, and her hideous face lighted up with ferocious de- 
 light while an invisible hand mended the web, eternally de- 
 stroyed and eternally repaired. 
 
 The hag, again opening her shears, was already approach- 
 ing the web anew, when she saw the shadow of Carlino. 
 
 " Fly, unhappy man," cried she, without turning round ; " I 
 know what brings you here, but I can do nothing for you. Go 
 to my sister ; perhaps she will give you what you desire. She 
 is Life I am Death." 
 
 Carlino did not wait for a second bidding. He rushed on- 
 ward, too happy to escape this scene of horror. 
 
 The landscape soon changed. Carlino found himself in a 
 fertile valley. On every side were harvests, blossoming fields, 
 vines loaded with grapes, and olive-trees full of fruit. In the 
 thick shade of a fig-tree, by a running spring, sat a blind 
 woman unrolling the last gold and silver thread from a spin- 
 dle. Around her lay several distaffs, full of different kinds 
 of materials ready for spinning flax, hemp, wool, silk, and 
 others. 
 
 When she had finished her task, the fairy stretched out hei 
 trembling hand at random, took the first distaff that came, 
 and began to spin. 
 
 Carlino bowed respectfully to the lady, and began with 
 emotion to tell her the story of his pilgrimage, when the fairy 
 stopped him at the first word. 
 
144 Fairy Book. 
 
 " My child," said she, " I can do nothing for you. I am 
 only a poor blind woman that does not even know herself 
 what she is doing. This distaff, which I have taken at ran- 
 dom, decides the fate of all who are born while I am spinning 
 it. Riches or poverty, happiness or misfortune, are attached 
 to this thread that I can not see. The slave of destiny, I can 
 create nothing. Go to my other sister ; perhaps she will give 
 you what you desire. She is Birth ; I am Life." 
 
 " Thanks, madam," answered Carlino ; and, with a light 
 heart, he ran to find the youngest of the Fates. He soon dis- 
 covered her, fresh and smiling as the spring. Every thing 
 about her was taking root and germinating : the corn was 
 bursting through the earth and putting forth its green blades 
 from the brown furrows ; the orange-blossoms were opening ; 
 the buds on the trees were unfolding their pink scales ; the 
 chickens, scarcely feathered, were running round the anxious 
 hen, and the lambs were clinging to their mother. It was the 
 first smile of life. 
 
 The fairy received the prince with 
 kindness. After listening to him with- 
 out laughing at his folly, she asked him 
 to sup with her, and at dessert gave 
 him three citrons, and a beautiful knife 
 with a mother-of-pearl handle. 
 
 " Carlino," said she, " you can now return to your father's 
 house : the prize is gained ; you have found what you have 
 been seeking. Go, then, and when you have reached your 
 kingdom, stop at the first fountain that you see, and cut one 
 of these citrons. A fairy will come forth, who will ask you for 
 a drink. Give her the water quickly, or she will slip through 
 your fingers like quicksilver. If the second escapes you in 
 the same way, have an eye to the last ; give her a drink in- 
 stantly, and you will have a wife according to your heart." 
 
The Three Citrons. 145 
 
 Intoxicated with joy, the prince kissed again and again 
 the charming hand that crowned his wishes. He was more 
 happy than wise, and little deserved to succeed ; but fairies 
 have their caprices, and Fortune is always a fairy. 
 
 It was a long distance from the end of the world to the 
 kingdom of the Vermilion Towers. Carlino experienced more 
 than one storm and braved more than one danger on his way 
 across land and sea, but at last, after a long voyage and a 
 thousand trials, he reached his father's country with his three 
 citrons, which he had treasured like the apple of his eye. 
 
 He was not more than two hours' journey from the royal 
 castle when he entered a dense forest, where he had hunted 
 many a time. A transparent fountain, bordered with wild 
 flowers and shaded by the trembling leaves of the aspen, in- 
 vited the traveler to repose. Carlino seated himself on a 
 carpet of verdure enameled with daisies, and, taking his knife, 
 cut one of the citrons. 
 
 All at once, a young girl as white as milk and as red as 
 a strawberry darted past him like lightning. "Give me a 
 drink !" said she, pausing an instant. 
 
 " How beautiful she is !" cried the prince, so ravished by 
 her charms that he forgot the advice of the Fate. He paid 
 dearly for it : in a second the fairy had disappeared. Carlino 
 smote his breast in despair, and stood as astonished as a child 
 that sees the running water slip through his fingers. 
 
 He tried to calm himself, and cut the next citron with a 
 trembling hand , but the second fairy was even more beauti- 
 ful and more fleeting than her sister. While Carlino admired 
 her, wonder-struck, in the twinkling of an eye she took flight. 
 
 This time the prince burst into tears, and wept so bitterly 
 that he seemed a part of the fountain. He sobbed, tore his 
 hair, and called down all the maledictions of heaven on his 
 head. 
 
 G 
 
146 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Fool that I am !" he cried ; " twice I have let her escape 
 as though my hands were tied. Fool that I am, I deserve 
 my fate. When I should have run like a greyhound, I stood 
 still like a post. A fine piece of business ! But all is not 
 lost : the third time conquers. I will try the magic knife 
 once more, and if it deceives me this time I will use it on 
 myself." 
 
 He cut the last citron. The third fairy darted forth, and 
 said, like her companions, " Give me a drink !" But the prince 
 had learned a lesson. He instantly gave her the water, when 
 lo ! a beautiful, slender young girl, as white as milk, with 
 cheeks like roses, stood before him, looking like a freshly- 
 opened rose-bud. She was a marvel of beauty such as the 
 world had never seen, as fresh as a lily and as graceful as a 
 swan : her hair was of brighter gold than the sun, her clear 
 blue eyes revealed the depths of her heart, her rosy lips seem- 
 ed made only to comfort and charm ; in a word, from head to 
 foot she was the most enchanting creature that had ever de- 
 scended from heaven to earth. It is a great pity that we 
 have no likeness of her. 
 
 At the sight of his bride the prince almost lost his reason 
 from joy and surprise. He could not understand how this 
 miracle of freshness and beauty had sprung from the bitter 
 rind of a citron. 
 
 " Am I asleep ?" he cried. " Am I dreaming ? If I am the 
 sport of a delusion, for pity's sake do not awaken me." 
 
 The fairy's smile soon reassured him. She accepted his 
 hand, and was the first to ask to repair to the good King of 
 the Vermilion Towers, who would be so happy to bless his 
 children. 
 
 " My love," answered Carlino, " I am as impatient as you 
 to see my father and to prove to him that I was right ; but we 
 can not enter the castle arm in arm like two peasants. You 
 
The Three Citrons. 147 
 
 must go like a princess ; you must be received like a queen. 
 Wait for me by this fountain ; I will run to the palace, and re- 
 turn in two hours with a dress and equipage worthy of you." 
 Saying this, he tenderly kissed her hand and left her. 
 
 The young girl was afraid on finding herself alone ; the cry 
 of a raven, the rustling of the trees, a dead branch broken by 
 the wind, every thing frightened her. She looked tremblingly 
 about her, and saw an old oak by the side of the fountain 
 whose huge trunk offered her a shelter. She climbed the tree 
 and hid herself in it all but her lovely face, which, encircled 
 by the foliage, was reflected in the transparent fountain as in 
 a clear mirror. 
 
 Now there was a negress, by the name of Lucy, who lived 
 in the neighborhood, and who was sent every day by her mis- 
 tress to the fountain for water. Lucy came, as usual, with her 
 pitcher on her shoulder, and, just as she was about to fill it, 
 she spied the image of the fairy in the spring. The fool, who 
 had never seen herself, thought that the face was her own. 
 "Poor Lucy!" she cried. "What! you, so fresh and beautiful, 
 are forced by your mistress to carry water like a beast of bur- 
 den ! No, never !" And, in her vanity, she dashed the pitch- 
 er to the ground and returned home. 
 
 When her mistress asked her why she had broken the pitch- 
 er, the slave shrugged her shoulders and said, " The pitcher 
 that goes often to the well is soon broken." Upon this, her 
 mistress gave her a little wooden cask, and ordered her to go 
 back immediately and fill it at the fountain. 
 
 The negress ran to the spring, and, gazing lovingly at the 
 beautiful image in the water, sighed and said, " No, I am not 
 an ape, as I am so often told ; I am more beautiful than my 
 mistress. Mules may carry casks not I !" She dashed the 
 cask on the ground, broke it in a thousand pieces, and re- 
 turned to her mistress, grumbling. 
 
148 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Where is the cask ?" asked her mistress, who was waiting 
 impatiently for the water. 
 
 " A mule ran against me and knocked it down, and it is all 
 broken to pieces." 
 
 At these words her mistress lost patience. Seizing a 
 broom, she gave the negress one of those lessons that are not 
 soon forgotten ; then, taking down a leathern bottle that was 
 hanging on the wall, 
 
 " Run, wretched ape," she said ; " and if you do not instant- 
 ly bring this back to me full of water, I will beat you within 
 an inch of your life." 
 
 The negress took to her heels in terror, and filled the bot- 
 tle obediently ; but when it was filled she stopped to look 
 once more in the fountain ; and seeing the lovely face reflect- 
 ed there, " No !" she cried, in a burst of anger " no, I will 
 not be a water-carrier ; no, I was not made to serve my mis- 
 tress like a dog." 
 
 Saying this, she took from her hair the great pin that held 
 it, and pierced the bottle through and through. The water 
 spouted out in every direction. At the sight the fairy in the 
 tree burst into a fit of laughter. The negress looked up, saw 
 the beautiful stranger, and understood the whole. 
 
 " Oh !" said she to herself, " so you are the cause of my 
 beating ; no matter, you shall pay me well for it." Then, rais- 
 ing her voice, she called, in her sweetest tones, " What are you 
 doing up there, lovely lady ?" 
 
 The fairy, who was as good as she was beautiful, tried to 
 comfort the slave by talking with her. The acquaintance 
 was soon made ; an innocent soul is unsuspicious in friend- 
 ship. The fairy, without distrust, told the negress all that had 
 happened to her and the prince, why she was alone in the for- 
 est, and how she was every instant expecting Carlino with a 
 grand equipage to conduct his bride to the King of the Ver 
 
The Three Citrons. 
 
 149 
 
 milion Towers, and to marry her there in the presence of all 
 the court. 
 
 On hearing this story, the wicked and envious negress con- 
 ceived an abominable idea. "Madam," said she, "if the 
 prince is coming with all his suite, you must be ready to meet 
 him. Your hair is all in disorder ; let me come to you, and I 
 will comb it" 
 
 " With pleasure," answered the fairy, with a gracious smile, 
 as she stretched out a little white hand, which looked, in 
 Lucy's great black paw, like a crystal mirror in an ebony 
 frame. 
 
 No sooner had she climbed the tree than the wicked slave 
 
150 Fairy Book. 
 
 untied the fairy's hair and began to comb it ; then, all at 
 once, taking her great hair-pin, she pierced her to the brain. 
 Feeling herself wounded, the fairy cried, " Palomba ! Palom- 
 ba !" when she instantly turned to a wood-pigeon, and flew 
 away. The horrible negress took her victim's place, and 
 stretched out her neck among the foliage, looking like a 
 statue of jet in a niche of emerald. 
 
 Meanwhile the prince, mounted on a magnificent horse, 
 was riding thither at full speed, followed by a long cavalcade. 
 Poor Carlino was astonished to find a crow where he had left 
 a swan. He almost lost his reason, his voice was choked 
 with tears, and he gazed in all directions, hoping to see his 
 bride among the foliage. But the negress, putting on a suffer- 
 ing air, said to him, casting down her eyes, " Look no farther, 
 my prince ; a wicked fairy has made me her victim, and a 
 wretched fate has changed your lily to charcoal." 
 
 Though he cursed the fairies who had played on his credu- 
 lity, Carlino, like a true prince, would not break his word. 
 He gallantly gave his hand to Lucy, and helped her to descend 
 from the tree, all the while heaving sighs that would have 
 melted a heart of stone. When the negress was dressed like 
 a princess, and covered with lace and diamonds that adorn- 
 ed her as the stars adorn the night, by rendering the darkness 
 still more visible, Carlino seated her at his right hand, in a 
 magnificent carriage lined with plate glass and drawn by six 
 white horses, and took his way to the palace, as happy as a 
 criminal with the rope about his neck. 
 
 The old king came to meet them a league from the castle. 
 The wonderful stories of his son had turned his brain. In 
 spite of etiquette and against the remonstrances of his court- 
 iers, he hastened to admire the incomparable beauty of his 
 daughter-in-law. " Upon my word," he exclaimed at the sight 
 of a crow instead of the dove that had been promised him 
 
The Three Citrons. 
 
 " upon my word, this is too much. I knew that my son was 
 mad, but I did not know that he was blind. Is this the spot- 
 less lily that he has been to the end of the world to seek? 
 Is this the rose fresher than the morning dew, the mira- 
 cle of beauty that has come from the rind of a citron ? Does 
 he think that I will bear this new insult to my gray hairs ? 
 Does he think that I will leave to mulatto children the empire 
 of the Vermilion Towers, the glorious inheritance of my an- 
 cestors ? This baboon shall never enter my palace." 
 
 The prince fell at his father's feet and tried to move him. 
 The prime minister, a man of great experience, remonstrated 
 with his master that, at court, black often becomes white and 
 white black in the space of twenty-four hours ; and that there 
 was no reason to be astonished at such a very natural meta- 
 morphosis. What was the King of the Vermilion Towers to 
 do ? He was a king and a father, and by this double title al- 
 ways accustomed to do the will of others : he yielded and 
 consented with a bad grace to this strange union. The court 
 gazette announced to the whole kingdom the happy choice 
 that the prince had made, and ordered the people to rejoice. 
 
152 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 The wedding was postponed for a week ; it was impossible to 
 make the preparations for the ceremony in less time than 
 this. 
 
 The negress was lodged in a magnificent suite of apart- 
 ments; countesses disputed with each other the honor of 
 putting on her slippers ; and duchesses obtained, not with- 
 out difficulty, the glorious privilege of handing her her night- 
 gown. The town and castle were adorned with flags of all 
 colors ; walls were thrown down, yews were planted, walks 
 were graveled, old speeches were fur- 
 bished up, stale compliments were 
 newly framed, and poems and sonnets 
 that had done duty every where were 
 patched up anew. There was but one 
 idea in the kingdom that of thankful- 
 ness to the prince for having chosen a 
 wife so worthy of him. 
 
 The kitchen was not forgotten. Three 
 hundred scullions, a hundred cooks, and 
 fifty stewards set to work, under the su- 
 
The Three Citrons. 153 
 
 perintendence of the famous Bouchibus, the chief of the royal 
 kitchens. Pigs were killed, sheep cut up, capons larded, 
 pigeons plucked, and turkeys spitted : it was a universal mas- 
 sacre. It is impossible to have a feast worthy of the name 
 without the help of the poultry-yard. 
 
 In the midst of this bustle a beautiful wood-pigeon, with 
 blue wings, perched on one of the kitchen windows, and 
 cooed in a plaintive voice, 
 
 " Bouchibus, tell me, for you must know, sure, 
 What has Carlino to do with the Moor?" 
 
 The great Bouchibus was at first too busy with public af- 
 fairs to attend to the cooing of a pigeon ; but, after a while, 
 he began to be astonished at understanding the language of 
 birds, and thought it his duty to inform his new mistress of 
 the wonder. The negress did not disdain to go to the kitch- 
 en. As soon as she heard the song, with a cry of affright, she 
 ordered Bouchibus to catch the pigeon and make a stew of it. 
 
 No sooner said than done. The poor bird suffered itself 
 to be caught without resistance. In an instant Bouchibus, 
 armed with his great knife, cut off its head and threw it into 
 the garden. Three drops of blood fell on the ground ; and 
 three days after there sprang from the earth a beautiful citron- 
 tree, which grew so fast that before night it was in blossom. 
 
 The prince, while taking the air in his balcony, chanced to 
 spy a citron-tree which he had never seen before. He called 
 the cook, and asked him who had planted this beautiful tree. 
 The story of Bouchibus perplexed him greatly. He at once 
 commanded, under penalty of death, that no one should touch 
 the citron-tree, and that the greatest care should be taken 
 of it. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as he awoke, the prince hasten- 
 ed to the garden. There were already three citrons on the 
 tree three citrons exactly like those which the Fate had given 
 
 G 2 
 
154 Fairy Book. 
 
 him. Carlino gathered them, hastened to his apartments, and 
 shut himself up under lock and key. With a. trembling hand 
 he filled a golden cup, set with rubies, which had belonged to 
 his mother, with water, and opened the magic knife, which had 
 never left him. 
 
 He cut a citron, and the first fairy came forth. Carlino 
 scarcely glanced at her, and suffered her to take flight. It 
 was the same with the second ; but as soon as the third ap- 
 peared, he gave her the cup, from which she drank with a 
 smile, and stood before him more beautiful and graceful than 
 ever. 
 
 The fairy then told Carlino all that she had suffered from 
 the wicked negress. The prince, beside himself with mingled 
 joy and anger, laughed and wept, sang and raved. The king, 
 hearing the noise, ran to see what was the matter, and you 
 may judge of his surprise. He danced about like a madman, 
 with his crown on his head and his sceptre in his hand. All 
 at once he stopped short, bent his brow, which was a sign that 
 a thought had struck him, threw a large veil over the prin- 
 cess which covered her from head to foot, and, taking her by 
 the hand, led her to the dining-room. 
 
 It was the hour for breakfast. The ministers and courtiers 
 were ranged round a long table, magnificently served, waiting 
 for the entrance of the royal family to be seated. The king 
 called the guests one after another, and, raising the veil as 
 each approached the fairy, asked, 
 
 " What shall be done to the person who sought to destroy 
 this marvel of beauty ?" 
 
 And each one, wonder-struck, answered in his own way. 
 Some said that the author of such a crime deserved a hempen 
 cravat ; others thought that the wretch should be thrown into 
 the water with a stone to his neck. Beheading seemed to 
 the old minister too mild a punishment for such a villain ; he 
 
The Three Citrons. 
 
 155 
 
 was in favor of flaying him alive, and all present applauded 
 his humanity. 
 
 When the negress's turn came, she approached without sus- 
 
 picion, and did not recognize the fairy. " Sire," said she, " a 
 monster capable of injuring this charming creature deserves 
 to be roasted alive in an oven, and to have his ashes thrown 
 to the winds." 
 
 " You have pronounced your own sentence," cried the King 
 of the Vermilion Towers. " Wretch, behold your victim, and 
 prepare to die. Let a funeral pile be built in the square in 
 front of the castle. I will give my good people the pleasure 
 of seeing a witch burn ; it will occupy them for an hour or 
 two." 
 
 " Sire," said the young fairy, taking the king's hand, " your 
 majesty surely will not refuse me a wedding gift?" 
 
 " No, indeed, my child," replied the old king. " Ask what 
 you will ; should it be my crown, I will gladly give it to you." 
 
 " Sire," continued the fairy, " grant me this wretched crea- 
 ture's pardon. An ignorant and miserable slave, life has 
 
156 Fairy Book. 
 
 taught her nothing but hatred and malice ; let me render her 
 happy, and teach her that the only happiness on earth con- 
 sists in loving others." 
 
 " My daughter," said the king, " it is very evident that you 
 are a fairy ; you know nothing of human justice. Among us, 
 we do not reform the wicked, we kill them ; it is sooner done. 
 But I have given my word ; tame this serpent at your own 
 risk and peril ; I am willing." 
 
 The fairy raised the negress, who kissed her hands, weep- 
 ing; then they all sat down to the table. The king was so 
 happy that he ate enough for four. As to Carlino, who kept 
 his eyes fixed on his bride, he cut his thumb five or six times 
 in a fit of absent-mindedness, which each time put him in the 
 best humor imaginable. Every thing gives us pleasure when 
 the heart is happy. 
 
 When the old king died, full of years and honor, Carlino 
 and his lovely wife ascended the throne in turn. For half a 
 century, if history is to be believed, they neither raised the 
 taxes, shed a drop of blood, nor caused a tear to fall ; and 
 although more than a thousand years have passed since then, 
 the good people of the Vermilion Towers still sigh at the 
 mention of this distant age, and little children are not the 
 only ones to ask when the fairies will reign again. 
 
STORY OF COQUERICO. 
 
 A SPANISH TALE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a handsome hen who lived 
 like a great lady in the poultry-yard of a rich farmer, sur- 
 rounded by a numerous family which clucked about her, and 
 none of which clamored more loudly or picked up the corn 
 faster with his beak than a poor little deformed and crippled 
 chicken. This was precisely the one that the mother loved 
 best. It is the way with all mothers ; the weakest and most 
 unsightly are always their favorites. This misshapen creature 
 had but one eye, one wing, and one leg in good condition ; it 
 might have been thought that Solomon had executed his mem- 
 orable sentence on Coquerico, for that was the name of the 
 wretched chicken, and cut him in two with his famous sword. 
 When a person is one-eyed, lame, and one-armed, he may rea- 
 sonably be expected to be modest ; but our Castilian ragamuf- 
 fin was prouder than his father, the best spurred, most ele- 
 gant, bravest, and most gallant cock to be seen from Burgos 
 to Madrid. He thought himself a phcenix of grace and 
 beauty, and passed the best part of the day in admiring him- 
 self in the brook. If one of his brothers ran against him by 
 accident, he abused him, called him envious and jealous, and 
 risked his only remaining eye in battle ; if the hens clucked 
 on seeing him, he said it was to hide their spite because he 
 did not condescend to look at them. 
 
 One day, when he was more puffed up with vanity than 
 usual, he resolved no longer to remain in such a narrow 
 
158 Fairy Book. 
 
 sphere, but to go out into the world, where he would be bet- 
 ter appreciated. 
 
 " My lady mother," said he, " I am tired of Spain ; I am 
 going to Rome to see the pope and cardinals." 
 
 "What are you thinking of, my poor child!" cried his 
 mother. " Who has put such a folly into your head ? Nev- 
 er has one of our family been known to quit his country, 
 and, for this reason, we are the honor of our race, and are 
 proud of our genealogy. Where will you find a poultry-yard 
 like this mulberry-trees to shade you, a whitewashed hen- 
 roost, a magnificent dunghill, worms and corn every where, 
 brothers that love you, and three great dogs to guard you 
 from the foxes ? Do you not think that at Rome itself you 
 will regret the ease and plenty of such a life ?" 
 
 Coquerico shrugged his crippled wing in token of disdain. 
 " You are a simple woman, my good mother," said he ; " ev- 
 ery thing is accounted worthy of admiration by him who has 
 never quitted his dunghill. But I have wit enough to see that 
 my brothers have no ideas, and that my cousins are nothing 
 but rustics. My genius is stifling in this hole ; I wish to roam 
 the world and seek my fortune." 
 
 " But, my son, have you never looked in the brook ?" re- 
 sumed the poor hen. " Don't you know that you lack an eye, 
 a leg, and a wing ? To make your fortune, you need the eyes 
 of a fox, the legs of a spider, and the wings of a vulture. 
 Once outside of these walls, you are lost." 
 
 " My good mother," replied Coquerico, " when a hen hatch- 
 es a duck, she is always frightened on seeing it run to the wa- 
 ter. You know me no better. It is my nature to succeed by 
 my wit and talent. I must have a public capable of appre- 
 ciating the charms of my person ; my place is not among in- 
 ferior people." 
 
 " My son," said the hen, seeing all her counsels useless, 
 
Story of Coquerico. 159 
 
 " my son, listen at least to your mother's last words. If you 
 go to Rome, take care to avoid St. Peter's Church the saint, 
 it is said, dislikes cocks, especially when they crow. Shun, 
 moreover, certain personages called cooks and scullions ; you 
 will know them by their paper caps, their tucked-up sleeves, 
 and the great knives which they wear at their sides. They 
 are licensed assassins, who track our steps without pity, and 
 cut our throats without giving us time to cry mercy. And 
 now, my child," she added, raising her claw, "receive my 
 blessing. May St. James, the patron saint of pilgrims, protect 
 thee !" 
 
 Coquerico pretended not to see the tear that trembled in 
 his mother's eye, nor did he trouble himself any more about 
 his father, who bristled his plumage and seemed about to call 
 him back. Without caring for those whom he left behind, he 
 glided through the half-open door, and, once outside, flapped 
 his only wing and crowed three times, to celebrate his free- 
 dom" Cock-a-doodle-doo !" 
 
 As he half flew, half hopped over the fields, he came to the 
 bed of a brook which had been dried up by the sun. In the 
 middle of the sands, however, still trickled a tiny thread of 
 water, so small that it was choked by a couple of dead leaves 
 that had fallen into it. 
 
 " My friend," exclaimed the streamlet at the sight of our 
 traveler, " my friend, you see my weakness ; I have not even 
 the strength to carry away these leaves which obstruct my 
 passage, much less to make a circuit, so completely am I ex- 
 hausted. With a stroke of your beak you can restore me to 
 life. I am not an ingrate ; if you oblige me, you may count 
 on my gratitude the first rainy day, when the water from heav- 
 en shall have restored my strength." 
 
 " You are jesting ?" said Coquerico. " Do I look like one 
 whose business it is to sweep the brooks ? Apply to those of 
 
160 Fairy Book. 
 
 your own sort." And, with his sound leg, he leaped across the 
 streamlet. 
 
 " You will remember me when you least expect it," mur- 
 mured the brook, but with so feeble a voice that it was lost 
 on the proud cock. 
 
 A little farther on, Coquerico saw the wind lying breathless 
 on the ground. 
 
 " Dear Coquerico, come to my aid," it cried ; " here on earth 
 we should help each other. You see to what I am reduced 
 by the heat of the day ; I, who in former times uprooted the 
 olive-trees and lashed the waves to frenzy, lie here well-nigh 
 slain by the dog star. I suffered myself to be lulled to sleep 
 by the perfume of the roses with which I was playing ; and 
 lo ! here I am, stretched almost lifeless upon the ground. If 
 you will raise me a couple of inches with your beak and fan 
 me a little with your wing, I shall have the strength to mount 
 to yonder white clouds which I see in the distance, where I 
 shall receive aid enough from my family to keep me alive till 
 I gain fresh strength from the next whirlwind." 
 
 " My lord,' 1 answered the spiteful Coquerico, " your excel- 
 lency has more than once amused himself by playing tricks 
 at my expense. It is not a week since your lordship glided 
 like a traitor behind me, and diverted himself by opening my 
 tail like a fan and covering me with confusion in the face of 
 nations. Have patience, therefore, my worthy friend ; mock- 
 ers always have their turn ; it does them good to repent, and 
 to learn to respect those whose birth, wit, and beauty should 
 screen them from the jests of a fool." And Coquerico, brist- 
 ling his plumage, crowed three times in his shrillest voice and 
 proudly strutted onward. 
 
 A little farther on he came to a newly-mown field, where 
 the farmers had piled up the weeds in order to burn them. 
 Coquerico approached a smoking heap, hoping to find some 
 
Story of Coquerico. 161 
 
 stray kernels of corn, and saw a little flame which was char- 
 ring the green stalks without being able to set them on fire. 
 
 " My good friend," cried the flame to the new-comer, " you 
 are just in time to save my life ; I am dying for want of air. 
 I can not imagine what has become of my cousin, the wind, 
 who cares for nothing but his own amusement. Bring me a 
 few dry straws to rekindle my strength, and you will not have 
 obliged an ingrate." 
 
 " Wait a moment," said Coquerico, " and I will serve you 
 as you deserve, insolent fellow that dares ask my help !" And 
 behold ! he leaped on the heap of dried weeds, and trampled 
 it down till he smothered both flame and smoke ; after which 
 he exultingly shouted three times " Cock-a-doodle-doo !" and 
 flapped his wings, as if he had done a great deed. 
 
 Proudly strutting onward and crowing, Coquerico at last 
 arrived at Rome, the place to which all roads lead. Scarcely 
 had he reached the city when he hastened to the great church 
 of St. Peter. Grand and beautiful as it was, he did not stop 
 to admire it, but, planting himself in front of the main en- 
 trance, where he looked like a fly among the great columns, 
 he raised himself on tip-toe and began to shout " Cock-a-doo- 
 dle-doo !" only to enrage the saint and disobey his mother. 
 
 He had not yet ended his song when one of the pope's 
 guard, who chanced to hear him, laid hands on the insolent 
 wretch who dared thus to insult the saint, and carried him 
 home in order to roast him for supper. 
 
 "Quick !" said he to his wife on entering the house, "give 
 me some boiling water ; here is a sinner to be punished." 
 
 " Pardon, pardon, Madam Water !" cried Coquerico. " Oh, 
 good and gentle water, the best and purest thing in the world, 
 do not scald me, I pray you !" 
 
 " Did you have pity on me when I implored your aid, un- 
 grateful wretch ?" answered the water, boiling with indignation. 
 
162 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 And with a single gush it inundated him from head to foot, 
 and left not a bit of down on his body. 
 
 The unhappy Coquerico stripped of all his feathers, the 
 soldier took him and laid him on the gridiron. 
 
 " Oh, fire, do not burn me !" cried he, in an agony of terror. 
 " Oh, beautiful and brilliant fire, the brother of the sun and 
 the cousin of the diamond, spare an unhappy creature j re- 
 strain thy ardor, and soften thy flame ; do not roast me !" 
 
 " Did you have pity on me when I implored your aid, un- 
 grateful wretch ?" answered the fire, and, fiercely blazing with 
 anger, in an instant it burnt Coquerico to a coal. 
 
Story of Coquerico. 163 
 
 The soldier, seeing his roast chicken in this deplorable 
 condition, took him by the leg and threw him out of the win- 
 dow. The wind bore the unhappy fowl to a dunghill, where 
 it left him for a moment. 
 
 " Oh, wind," murmured Coquerico, who still breathed, " oh, 
 kindly zephyr, protecting breeze, behold me cured of my vain 
 follies ; let me rest on the paternal dunghill." 
 
 " Let you rest !" roared the wind. " Wait, and I will teach 
 you how I treat ingrates." And with one blast it sent him 
 so high in the air that, as he fell back, he was transfixed by 
 a steeple. 
 
 There St. Peter was awaiting him. With his own hand he 
 nailed him to the highest steeple in Rome, where he is still 
 shown to travelers. However high placed he may be, all de- 
 spise him because he turns with the slightest wind ; black, 
 dried up, stripped of his feathers, and beaten by the rain, he 
 is no longer called Coquerico, but Weathercock ; and thus ex- 
 piates, and must expiate eternally, his disobedience, vanity, 
 and wickedness. 
 
KINO BIZARRE AND PRINCE CHARMING; 
 
 OR, THE ART OF GOVERNING MEN. 
 A TALE OF ALL NATIONS. 
 
 I. 
 
 KING BIZARRE AND PRINCE CHARMING. 
 
 IN the kingdom of Wild Oats, a happy country, a land bless- 
 ed of heaven, where the men are always right and the women 
 never wrong, there lived long ago a king who thought of noth- 
 ing but the happiness of his kingdom, and who, it is said, 
 never was dull for lack of amusement. Whether he was be- 
 loved by his people is doubtful ; i^js certain that the courtiers 
 had little esteem and less love for their prince. For this rea- 
 son, they had given him the surname of King Bizarre", the only 
 title by which he is known in history, as is seen in the Great 
 Chronicles of the Kingdoms and Principalities of the World which 
 have never existed, a learned masterpiece which has immor- 
 talized the erudition and criticism of the reverend father, Doc- 
 tor Melchisedec de Mentiras y Necedad. 
 
 Left a widower after a year's marriage, Bizarre had fixed 
 his whole affections on his son and heir, who was the most 
 beautiful child imaginable. His complexion was as fresh as 
 a rose ; his beautiful fair hair fell in golden curls on his shoul- 
 ders ; add to this clear blue eyes, a straight nose, a small 
 mouth, and a dimpled chin, and you have the portrait of a 
 cherub. At twelve years of age this young marvel danced 
 enchantingly, rode like a ridihg-master, and fenced to perfec- 
 tion. No one could have helped being won by his smile and 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 165 
 
 the truly royal manner in which he saluted the crowd in pass- 
 ing when he was in good humor. For this reason, the voice 
 of the people, which is never mistaken, had christened him 
 Prince Charming, and this name always clung to him. 
 
 Charming was as beautiful as the day ; but the sun itself, 
 it is said, has spots, and princes do not disdain to resemble 
 the sun. The child dazzled the court with his fine mien ; but 
 there were shadows here and there which did not escape the 
 piercing eye of love or envy. Supple, agile, and adroit in all 
 kinds of bodily exercises, Charming had an indolent mind. 
 He lacked application, and had taken a fancy that he ought 
 to know every thing without t studying. It is true that gov- 
 ernesses, courtiers, and servants had continually repeated to 
 him that work was not made for kings, and that a prince al- 
 ways knows enough when he lavishes pn poets, writers, and 
 artists, with a prodigal and disdainful hand, a little of the 
 money which the people are too happy to offer him. 
 
 These maxims tickled Charming's pride ; and at twelve 
 years of age, the beautiful child, with precocious firmness, 
 had steadily refused to learn the alphabet. Three teachers, 
 chosen from the most .able and patient instructors, a priest, a 
 philosopher, and a colonel, had attempted^ turn to bend his 
 youthful obstinacy ; but the priest had wasted his philosophy, 
 the philosopher his tactics, and the colonel his Latin. - Left 
 master of the field of battle, Charming listened to nothing but 
 his caprice, and lived lawless and unconstrained. As stub- 
 born as a mule, as irascible as a turkey-cock, as dainty as a 
 cat, and as idle as an adder, but an' accomplished prince 
 withal, he was the pride of the beautiful country of Wild Oats, 
 and the hope and love of a people that esteemed nothing in 
 their kings but grace and beauty. 
 
1 66 Fairy Book. 
 
 II. 
 
 P A Z Z A. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING he had been brought up at court,- King 
 Bizarre was a man of sense. Charming's ignorance was far 
 from pleasing to him, and he often asked himself with anxiety 
 what would become of his kingdom in the hands of a prince 
 whom the basest of flatterers might easily deceive. But what 
 was he to do, what means could he employ with a child that a 
 worshiped wife had bequeathed to him in dying ? Rather than 
 see his son weep, Bizarre would have given him his crown \ 
 his affection rendered him powerless. Love is not blind, 
 whatever the poets may say ; alas ! it would be too happy not 
 to see a jot. It is the torment of him who loves to become, 
 despite himself, the slave- and accomplice of the ingrate who 
 feels himself beloved. 
 
 Every day, after the council, the king went to spend the 
 evening with the Countess of Castro, an old lady who had 
 dandled him on her knees when an infant, and who alone 
 could recall to him the sweet memories of his childhood and 
 youth. She was very ugly, and something of a witch, it 
 is said ; but the world is so wicked that we must never be- 
 lieve more than half its scandal. The countess had large 
 features and luxuriant gray hair, and it was easy to see that 
 she had been beautiful in former times. 
 
 One day, when Charming had been more unreasonable 
 than usual, the king entered the countess's house with an 
 anxious air, and, seating himself before the c*ard-table, began 
 to play a game of Patience. It was his way of diverting his 
 thoughts and forgetting for a few hours the cares of royalty. 
 Scarcely had he ranged sixteen cards in a square when he 
 heaved a deep sigh. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 167 
 
 " Countessr," he cried, " you see before you the most wretch- 
 ed of fathers and kings. Despite his natural grace, Charm- 
 ing is every day becoming more willful and vicious. Must I 
 leave such an heir after me, and intrust the happiness of my 
 people to a crowned fool ?" 
 
 " That is the way with Nature," replied the countess ; " she 
 always distributes her gifts with an impartial hand. Stupidity 
 and beauty go hand in hand, and wit and ugliness are sel- 
 d$m separated. I have an example of this in my own family. 
 A few days ago a great-grand-niece was sent to me, a child 
 under ten years old, that has no other relative : she is as taw- 
 ny as a frog, as scraggy as a spider, yet, withal, as cunning as 
 an ape, and as learned as a book. Judge for yourself, sire j 
 here is my little monster coming to salute you." 
 
 JBizarre turned his head and saw a child that answered in 
 every respect to the countess's description. With a high, 
 round forehead, black, wild -looking eyes, rough hair turned 
 back in the Chinese fashion, dull, brown skin, great white 
 teeth, red hands, and long arms, she was any thing but a 
 beauty. But the chrysalis gives birth to the butterfly : wait a 
 few years, and you will see what pretty women come from 
 these frightful little girls of ten. 
 
 The little monster approached the king, and courtesied to 
 him with so serious an air that Bizarre could not help laugh- 
 ing, though he felt little like it. 
 
 " Who are you ?" asked he, chucking the child under the 
 chin. 
 
 " Sire," she answered, gravely, " I am Donna Dolores Rosa- 
 rio Coral Concha Balthazara Melchiora Gaspara y Todos San- 
 tos, the daughter of the noble knight Don Pasquale Bartolo- 
 meo Francesco de Asiz y " 
 
 " Enough," said -the king ; " I did not ask for your genealo- 
 
1 68 Fairy Book. 
 
 gy; we are witnessing neither your baptism nor marriage. 
 Whak~ar e you commonly called ?" 
 I " Sire," replied she, " I am called Pazza."* 
 
 " And why are you called Pazza ?" 
 
 " Because it is not my name." 
 
 " That is strange," said the king. 
 
 " No, it is natural," replied the child. " My aunt pretends 
 that I am too giddy for any saint to wish to own me for her 
 god-daughter, and that is why she has given me a name that 
 can offend no one in Paradise." 
 
 "Well answered, my child. I see that you are not an or- 
 dinary girl. The saints in Paradise are not always treated 
 with such consideration. Since you know so much, tell me 
 what is a wise man ?" 
 
 " A wise man, sire, is one who knows what he says when 
 he speaks, and what he does when he acts." / 
 
 " Upon my word," exclaimed the king, rt if my wise men 
 were what you fancy them, I would make the Academy of 
 Sciences my council of state, and would give it my kingdom 
 to govern. What is an ignorant man ?" 
 
 " Sire," returned Pazza, " there are three kinds of ignorant 
 men : he who knows nothing, he who talks of what he does 
 not know, and he who will learn nothing ; all three are fit for 
 nothing but to be burned or hung." 
 
 " That is a proverb ; do you know what proverbs are called?" 
 
 "Yes, sire ; they are called the wisdom of nations." 
 
 " And why are they called so ?" 
 
 "Because they are mad; they say whatever you please; 
 they are of all colors, to suit all tastes. Proverbs are like 
 bells, which answer yes or no according to the humor of their 
 listener." 
 
 * That is to say, Madcap, in Italian. It appears that a very mixed language is spoken 
 in the kingdom of Wild Oats. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 1 69 
 
 Upon which, springing 
 with both feet from the 
 ground, Pazza caught a fly 
 that was buzzing about the 
 king's nose ; then, leaving 
 Bizarre astonished, she took 
 her doll, and, seating her- 
 self on the ground, began 
 to rock it in her arms. 
 
 " Well, sire," the countess 
 said, "what do you think | 
 of this child?" 
 
 " She has too much wit," 
 answered the king; "she 
 will not live long." 
 
 " Ah ! sire," exclaimed Pazza, " you are not complimentary 
 to my aunt ; she is considerably older than I am." 
 
 " Hush, gipsy !" said the old lady, smiling ; " don't you know 
 that nobody lectures kings ?" 
 
 "Countess," said Bizarre, "an idea has just struck me, 
 which is so strange that I hardly dare tell it to you ; yet I 
 have a violent wish to carry it out. I can do nothing with 
 my son ; reason has no power v/ith the stubborn child ; who 
 knows whether folly would not be more successful? If I 
 thought so, I would make Pazza Charming's teacher. / The 
 intractable boy, who rejects all masters, might be defenseless 
 before a child. The only objection is that no one will be of 
 my opinion ; I shall have every body against me." 
 
 " Bah !" said the countess ; " every body is so stupid that it 
 is a proof that you are right that you think differently." 
 H 
 
170 Fairy Book. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE FIRST LESSON. 
 
 IN this manner Pazza was intrusted with the instruction of 
 the young prinoe^A There was no official appointment ; it 
 was not announced in the court gazette that the king, with 
 his usual wisdom, had found an unparalleled genius at the 
 first attempt, to whom he had confided the heart and mind 
 of his child ; but the very next morning Charming was sent 
 to the countess's house, and was permitted to play with 
 Pazza. 
 
 The two children, left alone together, gazed at each other 
 11 in silence. Pazza, being the bolder, was the first to speak. 
 
 " What is your name ?" asked she. 
 
 " Those who know me call me Your Highness," answered 
 Charming, in a piqued tone ; " those who do not know me call 
 me simply My Lord, and every body says Sir to me ; etiquette 
 requires it." 
 
 " What is etiquette ?" asked Pazza. 
 
 "I don't know," replied Charming. "When I want to 
 jump, shout, and roll on the ground, I am told that it is con- 
 trary to etiquette ; then I keep still, and yawn for lack of 
 amusement that is etiquette." 
 
 " Since we are here to amuse ourselves," resumed Pazza, 
 " there is no etiquette needed 3 speak to me as if I were your 
 sister, and I will speak to you as if you were my brother. I 
 will not call you My Lord." 
 
 " But you don't know me," said Charming. 
 
 "What does that matter?" returned Pazza; "I will love 
 you, that is better. They say that you dance beautifully ; 
 teach me to dance, will you ?" 
 
 The ice was broken ; Charming took the young girl by the 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 171 
 
 waist, and in less than half an hour taught her the last new 
 polka. 
 
 " How well you dance !j said he. " You have caught the 
 step directly." 
 
 " It is because you are a good teacher," she replied. " Now 
 it is my turn to teach you somethin^j 
 
 She took a beautiful picture-book, and showed him fine 
 buildings, fishes, statesmen, parrots, scholars, curious animals, 
 and flowers, all of which greatly amused Charming. 
 
 " See," said Pazza, " here is the explanation of all the pic- 
 tures ; read it." 
 
 " I don't know how to read," replied Charming. 
 
 " I will teach you ; I will be your little tutor." 
 
 " No," replied the stubborn prince, fldo not wish to read. 
 My masters tire me." 
 
 " Very well ; but I am not a master. See, here is an A, a 
 beautiful great A ; say A." 
 
172 Fairy Book. 
 
 " No," returned Charming, frowning, " I will never say A." 
 
 " Not to please me ?" 
 
 " No, never. Enough of this ; I do not like people to dif- 
 fer from me." 
 
 " Sir," said Pazza, " a polite man never refuses ladies any 
 thing." 
 
 " I would refuse the devil in petticoats," replied the young 
 prince, tossing his head. " I am tired of you ; let me alone. 
 I don't love you any longer ; call me My Lord." 
 
 "My Lord Charming, or my charming lord," said Pazza, 
 flushed with anger, " you shall read, or I will know the reason 
 why." 
 
 " I won't read." 
 
 " Will you not ? One two three !" 
 
 " No ! no ! no !" 
 
 Pazza raised her hand, ad IQ! the king's son received a 
 box on the ear. / Pazza had been told that she was witty to 
 the ends of her fingers, and had been stupid enough to be- 
 ^ieve it ; it is never right to jest with children. 
 { At this first lesson in reading, Charming turned pale and 
 trembled ; the blood mounted to his cheeks, his eyes filled 
 with tears, and he gazed at his young teacher with a look 
 that made her start ; then all at once, with a great effort, he 
 regained his self-possession, and said, in a tremulous voice, 
 " Pazza, that is A." And the same day, and at one sitting, 
 he learned all the letters of the alphabet ; at the end of the 
 week he spelt readily, and before the month was ended he 
 read with ease. 
 
 King Bizarre was delighted. He kissed Pazza on both 
 cheeks ; he insisted on having her always with him or his son, 
 and made this child his friend and counselor, to the great 
 disdain of all the courtiers. Charming, still gloomy and si- 
 lent, learned all that his young Mentor could teach him, then 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 173 
 
 returned to his former preceptors, whom he astonished by his 
 intelligence and docility^ He soon knew his grammar so 
 well that the priest asked himself one day whether, by chance, 
 these definitions, which he had never understood, had not a 
 meaning. Charming none the less astonished the philoso- 
 pher, who taught him every evening the opposite of what the 
 priest had taught him in the morning. But, of all his mas- 
 ters, the one to whom he listened with the least repugnance 
 was the colonel. It is true that Bayonet, for that was the 
 colonel's name, was a skillful strategist, and that he could say, 
 like the ancient poet, with a slight variation, " I am a man, 
 and nothing that pertains to the art of dispatching poor hu- 
 man beings is indifferent 4o me." It was he that initiated 
 Charming into the mysteries of button gaiters and shoulder- 
 straps ; it was he that taught his pupil that the noblest study 
 for a prince is the drilling of battalions, and that the ground- 
 work of statesmanship is to have reviews in order to make 
 war, and to make war in order to have reviews. 
 
 This was not perhaps altogether according to Bizarre's idea 
 of the art of government ; but he thought he could correct 
 any errors in the future, and, besides, he was so rejoiced at 
 Charming's progress that he was unwilling in any way to med- 
 dle with the admirable work of an education so long consid- 
 ered hopeless. 
 
 " My child," he often said, " never forget that you owe ev- 
 ery thing to Pazza." As the king spoke thus, Pazza gazed 
 tenderly at the young man. Despite all her wit, she was fool- 
 ish enough to love him. Charming contented himself with 
 coldly answering that gratitude was a princely virtue, and that 
 Pazza should some day learn that her pupil had forgotten 
 nothing, i 
 
174 Fairy Book. 
 
 IV. 
 
 PAZZA'S WEDDING. 
 
 WHEN Prince Charming had attained his seventeenth year, 
 he went one morning in search of King Bizarre, whose health 
 was declining, and who was very desirous of seeing his son 
 married before his death. 
 
 " Father," said he, " I have long reflected on your wise 
 words. You gave me life, but Pazza has done still more in 
 awakening my mind and soul. I see but one way of paying 
 the debt of my heart ; that is, to marry the woman to whom I 
 am indebted for what I am. I come to ask you for Pazza's 
 hand." 
 
 " My dear child," answered Bizarre, " this step does you 
 credit. Pazza is not of royal blood; she is not the one whom, 
 in different circumstances, I should have chosen for your wife ; 
 but her virtues, her merit, and, above all, the sendee which 
 she has rendered us, make me forget idle prejudices. Pazza 
 has the soul of a queen ; she shall mount the throne with 
 you. In the country of Wild Oats, wit and humor are held in 
 sufficient estimation to win you forgiveness for what fools call 
 a misalliance, and what I call a princely marriage. Happy 
 is he who can choose an intelligent wife, capable of under- 
 standing and loving him! To-morrow your betrothal shall 
 be celebrated, and in two years your marriage shall take place. 
 
 The marriage occurred more speedily than the king had 
 foreseen. Fifteen months after these memorable words, Bi- 
 zarre expired of languor and exhaustion.* He had taken the 
 vocation of king in earnest ; he fell a victim to royalty. The 
 old countess and Pazza wept their friend and benefactor, but 
 they were the only mourners. Without being a bad son, 
 Charming was engrossed with the cares of the empire ; and 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 175 
 
 the court expected every thing from the new reign, and 
 thought no more about the old king, whose eyes were closed 
 in death. 
 
 After honoring his father's memory by magnificent ob- 
 uies, the young prince, thenceforth wholly devoted to love, 
 celebrated his marriage with a splendor that charmed the 
 good people of Wild Oats. ' The taxes were doubled, but who 
 could regret money so nobly employed ? Men came from a 
 hundred leagues round to gaze at the new king, and Pazza, 
 whose growing beauty and air of goodness fascinated all 
 hearts, was not less admired. There were interminable din- 
 ners, harangues longer than the dinners, and poems more te- 
 dious than the harangues. In a word, it was an incompara- 
 ble festival, which was talked of for six months after. 
 
 Evening come, Charming took the hand of his graceful, 
 timid, and blushing bride, and with cold politeness led her 
 through the corridors of the old castle. All at once Pazza 
 was frightened to find herself in a gloomy dungeon, with grated 
 windows, and huge bars and locks. 
 
 " What is this ?" asked she ; " it looks like a prison." 
 
 " Yes," said the prince, with a terrible look, " it is a prison 
 which you will quit only for the grave." 
 
 " My dear, you frighten me," said Pazza, smiling. " Am I 
 a criminal without knowing it ? Have I deserved your dis- 
 pleasure, that you threaten me with a dungeon ?" 
 
 " You have a short memory," replied Charming. " An in- 
 sult is written on sand to the giver ; it is inscribed on marble 
 and bronze to the receiver." 
 
 "Charming," returned the poor child, beginning to be afraid, 
 "you are repeating something from those speeches that tired 
 me so much. Can you find nothing better to say to me to- 
 day?" 
 
 " Wretch !" cried the king, " you no longer remember the box 
 
176 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 on the ear that you gave me seven years ago, but I have not 
 forgotten it. Know that if I have wished you for my wife, it 
 has been only to have your life in my hands, and to make you 
 slowly expiate your crime of high treason." 
 
 " My dear," said Pazza, with a pettish manner, " you may 
 put on your Bluebeard airs, but you will not frighten me, I as- 
 sure you. I know you, Charming, and I warn you that if you 
 do not put an end to this bad jest, I will not only give you one 
 box on the ear, but three, before I forgive you. Make haste 
 and let me go out, or I vow that I will keep my word." 
 
 " Vow it then, madam," cried the prince, furious at not in- 
 timidating his victim. " I accept your vow. I vow too, on 
 my side, that I will never acknowledge you as my wife till I 
 have been base enough to receive three times an insult which 
 nothing but blood can wash out. He laughs well that laughs 
 last. Here, Rachimburg !" 
 
 At this terrible name, a jailer with a bushy beard and 
 

 King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 177 
 
 threatening mien entered the room, pushed the queen on a 
 wretched truckle-bed, and shut and double-locked the iron 
 door. A 
 
 IfPazza wept, it was so quietly that no one heard her. 
 Tired of the silence, Charming departed, with rage in his 
 heart, resolving that his rigor should break the pride that 
 braved him. Vengeance, it is said, is the delight of kings. 
 
 Two hours later the countess received a note by a sure 
 hand acquainting her with the sad fate of her niece. How 
 this note reached her is known to me, but I will not betray 
 the secret. If a charitable jailer is found by chance, he should 
 be treated with consideration j the species is rare, and is daily 
 becoming rarer. 
 
 V. 
 
 A TERRIBLE EVENT. 
 
 THE next morning the court gazette announced that the 
 queen had been seized with a raging fit of madness on the 
 very night of her wedding, and that there was little hope of 
 saving her. There was scarcely a courtier, indeed, that had 
 not observed the princess's restless air on the evening before, 
 and no one was surprised at her malady. All pitied the king, 
 who received with a gloomy and constrained mien the expres- 
 sions of affection which were lavished on him. He was doubt- 
 less weighed down with grief, but this grief appeared very 
 much lightened after the visit of the countess. 
 
 The good lady was very sad, and had a great desire to see 
 her poor child, but she was so old, and found herself so weak 
 and sensitive, that she entreated the king to spare her a heart- 
 rending spectacle. She threw herself into the arms of Charm- 
 ing, who tenderly embraced her, and withdrew, saying that she 
 placed all her hope and trust in the love of the king and the 
 talent of the chief physician of the court. 
 
 H 2 
 
: 
 
 178 Fairy Book. 
 
 She had scarcely left the room when the physician whisper- 
 ed a few words in Charming's ear which called to his face a 
 smile quickly repressed. The countess pacified, there was 
 nothing more to fear ; the vengeance was sure. 
 
 Doctor Wieduwillst was a great physician. Born in the coun- 
 try of Dreams, he had early quitted his native land to seek 
 his fortune in the kingdom of Wild Oats. / He was too able 
 a man not to find it. In the five years that he had spent in 
 the celebrated University of Lugenmaulberg, the medical theo- 
 ry had changed twenty-five times, and, thanks to this solid 
 education, the doctor had a firmness of principle which noth- 
 ing could shake. He had the frankness and bluntness of a 
 soldier, it was said : he swore at times, even with ladies ; a 
 rudeness which left him at liberty always to be of the same 
 mind withuthe- stronger, and to demand a fee for having no 
 opinion. K The queen had fallen into his incorruptible hands. 
 
 She had been imprisoned for three days, and the town was 
 already beginning to talk of something else, when one morn- 
 ing Rachimburg abruptly entered the king's apartments with 
 a distracted air, and threw himself trembling at his feet. 
 
 " Sire," said he, " I bring you my head. The queen has 
 disappeared." 
 
 " What do you tell me !" exclaimed the king, turning pale ; 
 " the thing is impossible ; the dungeon is barred on all sides."' 
 
 "Yes," said the jailer, " the thing is impossible, that is cer- 
 tain ; the bars are in their places, the walls are whole, and 
 neither the locks nor the bolts have been disturbed j but there 
 are witches in the world that pass through walls without mov- 
 ing a stone, and who knows but what the prisoner is one of 
 them ? Was it ever known whence she came ?" 
 
 The king sent in search of the doctor. He was a strong- 
 minded man, and had little faith in witches. He sounded the 
 walls, shook the bars, and cross-examined the jailer, but all to 
 
 , 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 1 79 
 
 no purpose. Trusty men were sent every where through the 
 town, and spies were set on the countess, whom the doctor 
 suspected, but all in vain, and after a week the search was 
 abandoned. Rachimburg lost his place as jailer, but as he 
 possessed the royal secret, as he was needed, and as he thirst- 
 ed to avenge himself, he was made the warden of the royal 
 castle. Furious at his bad luck, he exercised his supervision 
 with such strictness that in less than three days he arrested 
 Wieduwillst himself half a dozen times, and disarmed all sus- 
 picion. 
 
 At the end of a week some fishermen brought to the court 
 the robe and mantle of the queen. The waves had cast on 
 the shore these sad relics, covered with sand and sea-foam. 
 That the poor mad woman had drowned herself, no one doubt- 
 ed on seeing the grief of the king and the tears of the countess. 
 The council was assembled. It decided with a unanimous 
 voice that the queen was legally dead, and that the king was 
 legally a widower, and, for the interest of the people, entreated 
 his majesty to abridge a painful mourning, and to marry again 
 as soon as possible, in order to strengthen the dynasty. /This 
 decision was transmitted to the king by Wieduwillst, the chief 
 physician to the king and president of the royal council, who 
 made so touching a speech that the whole court burst into 
 tears, and Charming threw himself into the doctor's arms, 
 calling him his cruel friend. 
 
 It is unnecessary to say that the funeral of a queen so much 
 lamented was magnificent. In the kingdom of Wild Oats ev- 
 ery thing serves as a pretext for ceremony. The pageant was 
 worthy of admiration, but the most admirable thing in it was 
 the attitude of the young girls of the court. Every one looked 
 at Charming, who was handsomer than ever in his mourning 
 dress ; every one wept with one eye in honor of the princess, 
 and smiled with the other to attract the king. Ah ! had pho- 
 
; 
 
 180 Fairy Book. 
 
 tography only been invented, what portraits would antiquity 
 have transmitted to us what models for our painters ! The 
 passions still existed among these good people ; their mobile 
 faces were animated by love, hatred, and anger ; to-day we 
 are all so virtuous and prudent that we all wear the same 
 dress, the same hat, and the same expression. Civilization is 
 the triumph of morality and the ruin of art. 
 
 After the description of the funeral ceremonies, which, ac- 
 cording to etiquette, filled six columns, the court gazette laid 
 down rules for the full and the second mourning, blue and pink, 
 which are the mourning colors in the kingdom of Wild Oats. 
 The court was required to be in deep affliction for three weeks, 
 and to be comforted by degrees during the three weeks fol- 
 lowing; but carnival occurring during the period of the sec- 
 ond mourning, and respect being had for trade, it was determ- 
 ined to give a masked ball at the palace. Tailors and dress- 
 makers immediately set to work, invitations were solicited by 
 great and small, and men began to intrigue as if the fate of 
 the monarchy had been in question. 
 
 It was in this solemn manner that they mourned for poor 
 
 ; Pazza. f 
 J 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE MASKED BALL. 
 
 THE great day so impatiently expected at length arrived. 
 For six weeks the good people of Wild Oats had been in a 
 fever of excitement. / Nothing more was heard of ministers, 
 senators, generals, magistrates, princesses, duchesses, and citi- 
 zens ; for twenty leagues round, clowns, harlequins, punchinel- 
 los, gipsies, Columbines, and Follies alone were to be seen. 
 Politics were silenced, or, rather, the nation was divided into 
 two great parties, the conservatives that went to the ball, and 
 the opposition that staid at home. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 1 8 1 
 
 If the official gazette is to be believed, the festival out- 
 shone in splendor all others past and to come. The ball was 
 held in the midst of the gardens, in a rotunda magnificently 
 decorated. A winding walk, shaded by elms and dimly light- 
 ed by alabaster lamps, led to a hall resplendent with gold, 
 verdure, flowers, and light. An orchestra, half concealed in 
 the foliage, breathed forth music, by turns plaintive and gay. 
 Add to this the richness of the costumes, the brilliancy of the 
 diamonds, the piquancy of the masks, and the charm of in- 
 trigue, and you will see that it would have needed the soul of 
 an ancient Stoic to resist the intoxication of pleasure. 
 
 Yet Prince Charming was not amused. Concealed under a 
 blue domino, with his face entirely masked, he had addressed 
 himself to the most elegant and sprightly women, and had lav- 
 ishly displayed his wit and grace, yet he had met with nothing 
 but indifference and coldness. / They scarcely listened to him, 
 answered with a yawn, and hastened to quit him. All eyes 
 were fixed on a black domino with pink rosettes that moved 
 carelessly among the dancers, receiving with the air of a sul- 
 tan the compliments and smiles that every one lavished on 
 him. This domino was the Lord Wieduwillst, a great friend 
 of the prince, but still more the friend of his own pleasure. 
 In an unguarded moment the doctor had said that morning 
 by chance, under the seal of secrecy, and to two ladies only, 
 that the prince would wear pink rosettes in his black domino. 
 Was it his fault if the ladies had been indiscreet or the prince 
 had changed his mind ? 
 
 While the doctor was enjoying, despite himself, indeed, his 
 unexpected triumph, Charming seated himself in a corner of 
 the hall and buried his face in his hands, f Alone in the midst 
 of the crowd, he abandoned himself to reflection, and the im- 
 age of Pazza rose before him. He had no reproaches to make 
 himself; his vengeance was just, yet he felt an indescribable 
 
1 82 Fairy Book. 
 
 remorse. Poor Pazza ! no doubt she had been guilty ; but at 
 least she loved him, she understood him, she listened to him, 
 her eyes sparkling with joy. How different from all those 
 fools who had not recognized a prince under a domino at the 
 first moment by his wit ! 
 
 He rose suddenly to quit the hall, when he perceived, a lit- 
 tle way off, a mask that had also left the crowd and seemed 
 lost in contemplation. A half-open domino disclosed a gip- 
 sy's dress and a pair of slippers with buckles, containing a foot 
 smaller than that of Cinderella. 
 
 The king approached the stranger, and saw through the 
 velvet mask a pair of large black eyes, the melancholy glance 
 of which surprised and charmed him. 
 
 " Fair mask," said he, " your place is not here. Why are 
 you not among the eager and curious crowd that is pressing 
 around the prince to dispute his smile and heart? Do you 
 not know that there is a crown to be gained there ?" 
 
 " I make no such pretensions," answered the domino, in a 
 grave, sweet voice. " In this game of chance one runs the 
 risk of taking the servant for the king. I am too proud to 
 expose myself to such a hazard." 
 
 " But if I show you the prince ?" 
 
 " What could I say to him ?" replied the stranger. " I could 
 not blame him without offense, or praise him without flat- 
 tery." 
 
 " You think much evil of him, then ?" 
 
 " No, a little evil and much good ; but what does it mat- 
 ter ?" And, opening her fan, the domino relapsed into her 
 reverie. 
 
 This indifference surprised Charming. He addressed her 
 with warmth, she replied coldly ; he prayed her so urgently 
 to listen to him that she finally consented to do so, not in the 
 ball-room, where the heat was overpowering and the curiosity 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 183 
 
 indiscreet, but in the long elm-walk, where a few promenaders 
 were seeking silence and fresh air. 
 
 The night was advancing, and the gipsy had already spoken 
 several times of retiring, to the great regret of the prince, who 
 vainly entreated her to unmask. The stranger made no 
 reply. 
 
 " You drive me to despair," cried he, inspired with strange 
 respect and admiration for this mysterious figure. " Why this 
 cruel silence ?" 
 
 " Because I know you, my lord," replied the stranger, with 
 emotion. " Your voice, which goes to the heart, your lan- 
 guage, your grace, all tell me who you are. Let me go, Prince 
 Charming." 
 
 " No, madam," cried the prince, delighted at so much wit, 
 " you alone have recognized me, you alone have understood 
 me, to you belong my heart and kingdom. Throw off that sus- 
 picious mask ; this very instant we will return to the ball-room, 
 and I will present to the ignorant crowd the woman whom I 
 have had the happiness not to displease. Say but one word, 
 and all my people shall be at your feet." 
 
 " My lord," replied the stranger, sadly, " permit me to re- 
 fuse an offer which does me honor, and the memory of which 
 I shall always preserve-/ I am ambitious, I own ; the time 
 has been when I should have been proud to share your 
 throne and name ; but, before all things, I am a woman, and 
 place all my happiness in love, {""fwill not have a divided 
 heart, should my rival be only a memory ; I am jealous even 
 of the past." 
 
 " I have never loved in my life," cried the prince, with a ve- 
 hemence that made the stranger start. " There is a mystery 
 concerning my marriage which I can reveal only to my wife ; 
 but I swear to you that I have never given away my heart ; I 
 love now for the first time." 
 
184 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Show me your hand," said the gipsy, approaching the 
 lamp, " and let me see whether you have told the truth." J 
 
 Charming extended his hand with assurance ; the gipsy 
 studied the lines and sighed. 
 
 " You are right, my lord," said she, " you have never loved. 
 But this does not appease my jealousy. Another woman has 
 loved you before me. These sacred bonds are not broken by 
 death ; the queen still loves you you belong to her. To ac- 
 cept a heart which is no longer at your disposal would be 
 sacrilegious and criminal in me. Farewell." 
 
 "Madam," said the king, with an ill -assured voice, "you 
 do not know what you make me suffer. There are things 
 which I would gladly bury in eternal silence, but which you 
 force me to reveal. The queen never loved me ; ambition 
 alone dictated her conduct." 
 
 " That is not so," said the stranger, letting go the prince's 
 hand. " The queen loved you." 
 
 " No, madam," replied Charming ; " my father and I were 
 the victims of a detestable intrigue." 
 
 " Enough !" said the stranger, whose hands trembled and 
 whose ringers worked in a strange manner. " Respect the 
 dead ; do not slander them." 
 
 " Madam," said the prince, " I assure you, and none ever 
 doubted my word, that the queen never loved me. She was 
 a wicked woman." 
 
 " Ah !" said the domino. 
 
 "Willful, violent, and jealous." 
 
 " If she was jealous, she loved you," interrupted the mask. 
 " Seek for proofs which have at least a shadow of probability ; 
 ^o not accuse a heart which was wholly yours." 
 
 " So far from loving me," said the king, excitedly, " the very 
 'flight of my marriage she dared tell me to my face that she 
 had married me only for my crown." 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 185 
 
 " That is not true," said the gipsy, raising her hand. 
 
 " I swear it," replied Charming. 
 
 " You lie !" cried the stranger. And lo ! a box on the ear 
 blinded the prince ; the blow was repeated, and the stranger 
 fled. 
 
 The king stepped back furious, and sought the hilt of his 
 sword ; but men do not go to balls armed as for war ; for his 
 sole weapon he found a knot of ribbons. He ran after his 
 enemy, but which way had she fled?/ Charming lost himself 
 twenty times in the labyrinth ; he met none but peaceful dom- 
 inos walking in couples, and scarcely glancing at him as he 
 passed. Breathless, distracted, and desperate, he returned to 
 the ball-room, where he doubted not that the stranger had 
 taken refuge ; but how was he to find her ? 
 
 A brilliant idea crossed the prince's mind ; he would order 
 all to unmask, and would doubtless see the gipsy, confounded 
 by the king's presence and betrayed by her own agitation. 
 He instantly leaped on a chair, and exclaimed in a loud voice 
 that caused every one to start, 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, day is approaching and pleasure 
 is languishing ; let us revive mirth by a new caprice. Off 
 with the masks ! I set the example ; let all who love me fol- 
 low it." 
 
 He threw off his domino, raised his mask, and appeared in 
 the richest and most elegant Spanish costume ever worn by 
 prince. There was a general outcry ; all eyes were at first 
 turned toward the king, then toward the black domino with 
 pink rosettes, who retreated as fast as possible with a modesty 
 that was not affected. All unmasked. The ladies gathered 
 round the king, who, it was remarked, had the most violent 
 fancy for the gipsy costume. Young or old, all the gipsies re- 
 ceived his homage ; he took them by the hand, and gazed at 
 them with an air which made all the other masks ready to 
 
1 86 Fairy Book. 
 
 burst with envy, then made a sign to the orchestra ; the dance 
 recommenced, and the prince disappeared. 
 
 He hastened again to the elm-walk in search of the trait- 
 ress who had insulted him, doubtless led by vengeance. His 
 blood boiled in his veins ; he wandered at random, suddenly 
 stopping short, looking, listening, and spying in all directions. 
 At the faintest gleam of light through the foliage he sprang 
 forward like a madman, laughing and weeping at the same 
 time as though distracted. 
 
 At the turn of an alley he met Rachimburg advancing to- 
 ward him trembling, with an air of terror. 
 
 " Sire," murmured he, in a mysterious voice, " has your 
 majesty seen it ?" 
 
 " What ?'| asked the king. 
 
 " The spectre ; it passed close by me. I am a lost man ; I 
 shall die to-morrow." 
 
 "What spectre?" said Charming. "What fool's tale are 
 you telling me ?" 
 
 " A spectre a domino with flashing eyes, that threw me 
 on my knees and boxed my ears twice." 
 
 " It is she !" cried the king ; " it is she ! Why did you let 
 her go ?" 
 
 "Your majesty, I had not my pike; but if ever I see her 
 again, I will knock her down." 
 
 " Do no such thing !" returned the king. " If ever she re- 
 turns, do not frighten her ; follow her and discover her re- 
 treat. But where is she ? which way did she go ? Lead me ; 
 if I find her your fortune is made." 
 
 / " Sire," said the honest porter, looking at the moon, " if the 
 j spectre is any where, it must be up yonder ; I saw it, as plain- 
 ly as I see your majesty, dissolving in mist. But, before tak- 
 ing flight, it gave me a message for your majesty." 
 
 "What? Speak quickly!" A 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 187 
 
 " Sire, its words were terrible ; I shall never dare repeat 
 them to your majesty." 
 
 " Speak, I order you." 
 
 " Sire, the spectre said, in a sepulchral voice, ' Tell the king 
 that if he marries again he is a dead man. The loved one 
 will return.' " 
 
 " Here," said the prince, whose eyes shone with a strange 
 lustre, " take my purse. Henceforth I attach you to my per- 
 son ; I appoint you my first attendant, counting on your devo- 
 tion and prudence. Let this affair remain a secret between 
 wSj 
 
 " That makes two," murmured Rachimburg, as he depart- 
 ed with a firm tread, like a man that neither suffers himself 
 to be cast down by fear or dazzled by good fortune. He was 
 a strong-minded man. 
 
 The next morning the court gazette contained the following 
 lines, in the form of a letter without signature, in the unoffi- 
 cial part of the paper : 
 
 "A rumor has been spread that the king is thinking of 
 marrying again. The king knows what he owes to his people, 
 and is always ready to sacrifice himself for the happiness of 
 his subjects. But the people of Wild Oats have too much 
 delicacy not to respect a recent affliction. The king's whole 
 thoughts are fixed on his beloved wife ; he hopes the consola- 
 tion from time that is at present refused him." 
 
 This note threw the court and town in agitation. The 
 young girls thought the scruples of the prince exaggerated ; 
 more than one mother shrugged her shoulders, and said that 
 the king had vulgar prejudices worthy only of the common 
 people ; but at night there was strife in every well-ordered 
 household. There was not a wife of any pretensions to aris- 
 tocratic birth that did not quarrel with her unworthy spouse, 
 and force him to admit that there was but one heart capable 
 
1 88 Fairy Book. 
 
 of love, and but one faithful husband in the whole kingdom, 
 namely, Prince Charming. 
 
 VII. 
 
 TWO CONSULTATIONS. 
 
 AFTER so much excitement, the king was seized with a cruel 
 fit of tediumjTo divert himself, he attempted every kind of 
 pleasure ; he hunted, he presided over his council, he went to 
 the play and the opera, he received all the state corporations 
 with their wives, he read a Carthaginian novel, and j^eyiewed 
 the troops half a score of times ; but all in vain :/an inexo- 
 rable memory, an ever-present image left him no rest or peace. 
 The gipsy pursued him even in his dreams ; he saw her, he 
 talked to her, and she listened to him ; but, by some unac- 
 countable fatality, as soon as she raised her mask, Pazza's 
 pale, sad face always appeared. 
 
 The doctor was the only confidant to whom Charming 
 could avow his remorse, but at this word Wieduwillst burst 
 into laughter. 
 
 " The effect of habit, sire," he said. " Gain time, multiply 
 impressions, and all will be effaced." 
 
 To procure the prince excitement and to drive away sorrow 
 by a bold diversion, the doctor supped every evening alone 
 with his majesty, and poured out intoxication and forgetful- 
 ness with a liberal hand. Wieduwillst did not spare himself, 
 but wine had little effect on his strong brain ; he would Jiave 
 defied Bacchus and Silenus together with Charming. [While 
 the prince, by turn noisy and silent, plunged into the extremes 
 of joy and sadness, always restless and never happy, Wiedu- 
 willst, calm and smiling, directed his thoughts, and, through 
 pure goodness of soul, took upon himself all the fatigue and 
 care of the government. 
 
they: 
 
 frh 
 
 i ter. 
 
 King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 189 
 
 Three decrees had already placed in his hands the police, 
 the courts, and the finances. The doctor well understood 
 all the advantages of centralization. The way in which he 
 administered the taxes relieved him from all personal anxiety 
 for the future. The courts punished those who clamored too 
 loudly ; the police silenced those who whispered too much. 
 Nevertheless, in spite of the ability of these political schemes, 
 the people, always ungrateful, did not appreciate their happi- 
 ness. The inhabitants of Wild Oats delight in complaining ; 
 the pleasure was spoiled for them. King Bizarre's name was 
 in all hearts, and every one regretted the good old times when 
 they^shouted over the roof-tops that they were gagged. 
 
 The doctor was ambitious ; he was born for a prime minis- 
 ter. Every morning some new ordinance made the people 
 feel that the king was nothing and the minister every thing. 
 Charming was the only one that did not perceive his nothing- 
 ness. Shut up in his palace, and dying of ennui, his sole com- 
 panion was a page placed near him by the prime minister on 
 Rachimburg's recommendation. Frolicsome, chattering, and 
 indiscreet, a good musician and capital card-player, Tonto, for 
 that was the page's name, amused the king by his pranks ; he 
 pleased the prime minister no less, but by other virtues. J De- 
 voted to his benefactor, the good-natured page innocently re- 
 peated to him the most trifling words of the prince an easy 
 task, moreover, as the king was constantly dreaming and never 
 spoke. 
 
 h 
 
 t is a fine thing to have the advantages of power ; but ap- 
 petite comes by eating even with ministers. The ambitious 
 doctor began to desire both the honors and lustre of royalty. 
 Charming's best friend did not once think of dethroning him ; 
 nations sometimes have foolish prejudices and cling to old 
 habits, but nothing was easier than to frighten a sick prince, 
 and send him afar off in search of a cure that would be long 
 
190 Fairy Book. 
 
 in coming, while in his absence the doctor would reign as his 
 proxy. 
 
 Charming was young ; he still clung to life, and, moreover, 
 how could he resist the tender solicitude of the good doctor ? 
 The three most renowned physicians of the faculty met one 
 
 evening in consultation at the palace long Tristram, fat Jo- 
 cundus, and little Guilleret, three celebrated men three gen- 
 iuses who had made their fortune, each with one idea, which 
 had been the reason why they had never had any more. 
 
 After the king had been cross-questioned, looked at, han- 
 dled, auscultated, and turned round again and again, Tristram 
 spoke first, in a rude voice, 
 
 " Sire," said he, " you must be bled like a peasant, and live 
 without any exertion whatever. Your disease is a deficiency 
 of blood, a constitutional atony. Nothing but a journey to the 
 Clear Waters can cure you. Go quickly, or you are a dead 
 man. You have my opinion." 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 191 
 
 " Sire," said fat Jocundus, " I fully share the admirable 
 opinion of my dear professional brother. You are suffering 
 from superabundant vitality. Your disease is a constitutional 
 plethora. Go, drink the Clear Waters, and you will be a well 
 man again. You have my opinion." 
 
 " Sire," said little Guilleret, " the diagnostic of my masters 
 fills me with admiration. I bow before their learning. Like 
 them, I believe that you are suffering from disorder of the 
 sympathetic nerves. Your disease is a constitutional nervous- 
 ness. Drink the Clear Waters. Go quickly, or you are a dead 
 man. You have my opinion." 
 
 A unanimous opinion was drawn up and immediately car- 
 ried to the court gazette by Tonto ; and the three doctors 
 rose, bowed to the minister and the king, shook hands with 
 each other, and went down stairs quarreling or laughing, I 
 know not which ; the chronicle is almost illegible, owing to a 
 large blot in this place. 
 
 After the three physicians had gone, Wieduwillst read the 
 
 (opinion, reflected deeply, and looked at the king, Charming, 
 who had supped a little better this evening even than usual, 
 had not once listened to the doctors, but sat gazing around 
 him with bloodshot eyes. 
 
 " Sire," said he, " it is the unanimous opinion of these gen- 
 tlemen that, if you wish to be cured, you must go to the Clear 
 Waters and abandon the affairs of state. Such a resolution 
 appears to me unworthy of your royal majesty. A great prince 
 should sacrifice himself for his people, and " 
 
 " Enough," said the king ; " spare me this worn-out moral- 
 izing, and come to the conclusion. You wish me to go, my 
 good friend ; you are dying for me to do so, for my own inter- 
 est, of course. Draw up a decree placing the regency in your 
 hands, and I will sign it." 
 
 " Sire, the decree is here, in your portfolio ; a good minister 
 
1 92 Fairy Book. 
 
 always has papers drawn up to suit whatever circumstances 
 may arise. He never knows what may happen." 
 
 Charming took the pen, carelessly signed the decree with- 
 out reading it, and handed it to the minister, who approached 
 to receive it with a smile ; then, seized with a new caprice, he 
 drew back the paper and read it. 
 
 " What !" said he, " no statement of reasons ; nothing to 
 assure my people of the kindness I bear them ! Doctor, you 
 are too modest ; to-morrow this decree shall be in the gazette, 
 with a statement from the hand of your friend and master. 
 Good-night ; these gentlemen have tired me." 
 
 The doctor went out with a light step, erect brow, and 
 sparkling eye, prouder and more insolent than ever. Charm- 
 ing sunk again into his reverie, thinking that, in spite of all, 
 he was not the most unhappy of princes, since Heaven had 
 given .him such a friend. 
 
 All at once the strangest little doctor that had ever been 
 
 It seen in a castle entered the king's apartment unannounced. 
 
 1 He wore a wig with long white curls, his snow-white beard 
 
 fell on his breast, and his eyes were so bright and youthful 
 
 that it seemed as though they must have come into the world 
 
 sixty years after the rest of his body. 
 
 " Where are those knaves ?" cried he, with a shrill voice, 
 rapping on the floor with his cane. "Where are those ig- 
 norant fellows, those pedants, those ill-bred men that did not 
 wait for me ? Ah ! so you are the patient," said he to the 
 stupefied king. " That is good ; put out your tongue. Quick ! 
 I am in a hurry." 
 
 " Who are you ?" asked the king. 
 
 " I am Doctor Truth, the greatest doctor in the world, as 
 you will soon see, in spite of my modesty. Ask Wieduwillst, 
 my pupil, who sent for me from the Land of Dreams. I cure , 
 every body, even those who are not ill. Put out your tongue \\ 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 193 
 
 that's right. Where is the opinion ? Very well. Atony 
 asinis ! Plethora asini! Nerypusness asinorum! Drink 
 the Clear Waters asininum !\ Do you know what is your dis- 
 ease ? It is vexation, and even worse." 
 
 " Do you see that ?" said Charming, terrified. 
 
 " Yes, my son, it is written on your tongue. But I will cure 
 you : it shall be done by to-morrow noon." 
 
 " To-morrow !" said the king. " All my treasures " 
 
 " Silence, my son. What portfolio is that ? the minister's ? 
 Good. Sign these three papers for me." 
 
 " They are blank decrees," said the king. " What do you 
 wish to do with them ?" 
 
 " They are my ordinances. Sign. Well done, my son ; be 
 obedient, and to-morrow noon you shall be as gay as a lark. 
 First ordinance : If you would live at peace, appear at peace ; 
 I suppress six regiments. Second ordinance : A penny in a 
 peasant's pocket is worth twenty in the king's treasury; I 
 suppress one fourth of the taxes. Third ordinance : Liberty 
 is like the sunshine it is the happiness and fortune of the 
 poor ; I throw open the political prisons and demolish the 
 debtors' prisons. You are laughing, my son ; it is a good sign 
 when a patient laughs at his doctor." 
 
 " Yes," said Charming, " I am laughing to think of Wiedu- 
 willst's face to-morrow on reading these ordinances in the 
 court gazette. Enough of these follies, buffoon doctor ; give 
 me back the papers and put an end to this farce." 
 
 " What is this ?" said the little man, taking up the decree of 
 the regency. " God forgive me ! it is an abdication. What 
 are you thinking of, Prince Charming ? What ! the inherit- 
 ance bequeathed to you by your fathers, the people intrusted 
 to you by God, your name, your honor, will you throw all these 
 at the feet of an adventurer ? Will you let yourself be de- 
 
 I 
 
194 Fairy Book. 
 
 throned and duped by a deceiver ? Impossible ! It does not 
 suit me ; I oppose it. Do you hear ?'^/ 
 
 " What insolent fellow addresses^ his prince in this way ?" 
 
 " Politeness is not in words. Charming, are you mad ? are 
 you dreaming ? Are you wholly without heart,?'' 
 
 " This is too much !" cried the king. !" Begone, wretch, or I 
 will throw you out of the window." 
 
 " Begone !" said the little doctor, in a shrill voice. " No, not 
 till I have destroyed this mad and stupid document. See, I 
 tear your abdication in pieces and trample it under foot !" 
 
 Charming seized the madman and called his guards. No 
 one answered. The little man struggled with wonderful 
 strength. With his foot he threw the lamp on the ground ; 
 but the king, despite the darkness, kept fast hold of the sor- 
 cerer, who felt his strength failing. 
 
 " Let me go !" murmured he ; " for Heaven's sake let me 
 go ! You know not what you are doing. You are breaking 
 my arm." 
 
 His words and prayers were useless. Suddenly a shower 
 of blows, dealt by a strong hand, fell on the king's ears. 
 Charming let go his hold in surprise, and turned to attack his 
 invisible enemy. He found nothing but empty space, and, 
 staggering in the darkness, cried loudly for the help that did 
 not come. Such a thing could not have happened in a min- 
 ister's house ; kings are always worse guarded. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE END OF A DREAM. 
 
 AT last a door opened, and Rachimburg entered, according 
 to etiquette, to undress the king. The faithful servant ap- 
 peared greatly vexed to find him without a light, groping 
 along the wall. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 195 
 
 " Where is that infernal doctor ?" asked Charming, foaming 
 with rage. 
 
 " It is more than an hour, sire, since his excellency quitted 
 the palace ?" 
 
 " Who is talking of Wieduwillst ?" cried the king. " Which 
 way did the villain go that just insulted me ?" 
 
 Rachimburg looked at the prince with a contrite air, and 
 raised his eyes to heaven, sighing. 
 
 " A man went out of the door that leads to your rooms," 
 said Charming. " How did he enter, and where has he fled ?" 
 
 " Sire," said Rachimburg, " I have neither quitted my post 
 nor seen any one." 
 
 " I tell you that a man was in this room a moment ago." 
 
 " Sire, your majesty is never mistaken ; if a man was in this 
 room he is here still, unless he has flown through the window, 
 or your majesty has been dreaming." 
 
 " Fool, do I look like a man that has been dreaming ? Did 
 I overturn this lamp ? did I tear these papers ?" 
 
 " Sire, I am nothing but a worm of the earth ; God forbid 
 that I should contradict my sovereign. Your majesty does 
 not hire me to give him the lie. But this year strange dreams 
 are an epidemic. No one knows what he may do or suffer in 
 his sleep. Only just now I was overtaken with sleep in spite 
 of myself, and if I were not sure that I was dreaming, I should 
 declare that an invisible hand boxed my ears twice, at which 
 I awakened with a start." 
 
 " It was the spectre !" said the king. 
 
 " Your majesty is right," replied Rachimburg ; " I am noth- 
 ing but a simpleton ; it was the spectre." 
 
 " And I did not know her !" resumed Charming. " Never- 
 theless, it was her voice and air. What does this mean ? Is 
 it a new insult ? Is it a warning from heaven ? Does some 
 danger threaten me ? No matter, I will remain in my king- 
 
196 Fairy Book. 
 
 dom. My friend, not a word of all this : take this purse, and 
 keep the secret." 
 
 "That makes the third," murmured the faithful Rachim- 
 burg, as he undressed the king with a zeal and address which 
 several times made his majesty smile. 
 
 So many emotions one after another banished sleep ; it was 
 daybreak before the prince dozed, and broad daylight before 
 he awoke. In the first moment between sleeping and waking 
 Charming fancied that he heard a strange noise bells ring- 
 ing, cannon firing, and three or four bands of music playing 
 each a different air. He was not mistaken ; it was an infer- 
 nal hubbub. The king rang : Rachimburg entered, carrying 
 a bouquet of flowers. 
 
 "Sire," said he, "will his majesty permit the humblest of 
 his servants to be the first to express to him the universal 
 joy? Your people are intoxicated with love and gratitude. 
 The taxes lessened, the prisons opened, the army reduced ! 
 Sire, you are the greatest prince in the world ; never has earth 
 seen a ruler like you. Show yourself at the balcony ; answer 
 these cries of ' Hurrah for the king !' Smile on the people 
 that bless you." 
 
 Rachimburg could not finish ; tears choked his voice. He 
 attempted to wipe his eyes, but, in his excitement, he took the 
 gazette from his pocket instead of a handkerchief, and began 
 to kiss it like a madman. 
 
 Charming took the journal, and vainly attempted, while 
 dressing, to collect his ideas. By what chance had these in- 
 sane ordinances found their way into the official journal? 
 Who had sent them ? Why did not Wieduwillst make his ap- 
 pearance? The prince wished to reflect, consult, and ques- 
 tion ; but the people were under the windows, and their maj- 
 esties were too impatient to wait. 
 
 As soon as the king appeared in the balcony he was greeted 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 197 
 
 with shouts of enthusiasm which, despite every thing, thrilled 
 his heart. Men tossed their caps in the air, women waved 
 their handkerchiefs, mothers lifted up their children and made 
 them stretch their innocent hands to heaven, and repeat, "Hur- 
 rah for the king !" The guns of the palace guards were decked 
 with flowers, the drums beat, and the officers' swords flashed 
 in the sun. It was a scene of delirious joy. Charming was 
 infected by the general emotion ; he wept without exactly 
 knowing why. At that instant the clock struck noon. The 
 spectre was right the prince was cured. / 
 
 After the crowd it was the turn of the corporations, all of 
 whom, the ministers at the head, came to congratulate and 
 thank the king for having so well understood the wishes of his 
 faithful counselors. A single person was lacking, namely, 
 Wieduwillst. None knew where he had hidden his ignorance 
 and spite. A mysterious note received by him that morning 
 had occasioned his flight, yet this note contained only the 
 words, The king knows all! Who had written this fatal letter ? 
 Not the prince ; he alone, perhaps, in the palace, thought of 
 the minister, and wondered at not seeing him by his side. 
 
 All at once Tonto entered, pale and haggard. He ran to 
 the king, and gave him a letter which an officer had brought 
 at full gallop. The governor of the province, General Bay 
 onet, sent terrible news ; the six disbanded regiments had 
 mutinied, headed by Wieduwillst. The rebels had proclaimed 
 the downfall of the king, whom they accused of abominable 
 crimes, especially of the murder of the queen. Numerous 
 and well commanded, they were approaching the city, which 
 was defended only by a few doubtful and disaffected regi- 
 ments. Bayonet entreated the king to come instantly and 
 take command ; an hour later, and all would be lost. 
 
 Hurried on by Tonto and Rachimburg, the king secretly 
 quitted the palace, followed by a few officers. \ A proclama- 
 
198 Fairy Book. 
 
 tion, placarded on all the walls of the city and at every corner 
 of the streets, declared that there was no truth in the rumors 
 spread by a few malicious persons, and that the army had 
 never been more devoted or faithful. Upon this there was 
 a universal panic ; stocks fell fifty per cent, in half an hour, 
 and did not rise again till unofficial news arrived that the king 
 had been well received at head-quarters. 
 
 IX. 
 
 HEROIC REMEDIES FOR GREAT EVILS. 
 
 THE news was false ; the prince had been received with 
 great coldness. It was his own fault. Sad, despondent, and 
 abstracted, Charming had neither found a jest for the soldiers 
 nor a word of trust for the officers. He entered the general's 
 tent and fell into a chair. Tonto was little less disheartened. 
 
 " Sire," said Bayonet, " permit me to speak to you with the 
 frankness of a soldier and the freedom of an old friend. The 
 army is murmuring and hesitating ; we must secure it, or all 
 is lost. The enemy is in sight ; we must attack him. Five 
 minutes sometimes decide the fate of empires ; it is so with 
 us now. Do not wait till it is too late." 
 
 " Very well," said the king. " To horse ! in an instant I 
 will be with you." 
 
 Left alone with Tonto and Rachimburg, the king exclaimed, 
 in despair, " My good friends, quit a master who can do no 
 more for you. I shall not dispute my wretched life with my 
 enemies. Betrayed in friendship and treacherously assas- 
 sinated, I recognize in my misfortune the hand of an aven- 
 ging God. It is in punishment for my crime. I killed the 
 queen in my stupid vengeance ; the hour has come to expiate 
 my fault, and I am ready." 
 
 " Sire," said Tonto, trying to smile, " shake off these sad 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 1 99 
 
 thoughts. If the queen were here she would tell you to de- 
 fend yourself. Believe me," he added, twisting his budding 
 mustache, " I am acquainted with women ! Were they dead, 
 they would still love to avenge themselves. Besides, you did 
 not kill the queen ; and perhaps she is not so dead as you 
 imagine." 
 
 " What do you say ?" exclaimed the king ; " you are losing 
 your reason." 
 
 " I say that there are women who die expressly to enrage 
 their husbands ; why should there not be those that would 
 rise from the dead to enrage them still more? Leave the 
 dead, and think of the living who love you. You are a king ; 
 fight like a king, and, if necessary, fall like a king."; 
 
 " Sire," said Bayonet, entering, sword in hand, " time 
 presses." 
 
 " General, to horse !" cried Tonto ; " let us go." 
 
 Bayonet quitted the room to give the needful orders. When 
 he was gone, Charming looked at Tonto and said, f No, I will 
 not go. I do not understand my feelings ; I abhor myself. 
 I am not afraid of death ; I am going to kill myself; never- 
 theless, I will not fight." 
 
 " Sire," said Tonto, " in Heaven's name, summon up your 
 courage. To horse ! Great God !" he exclaimed, wringing 
 his hands, "the prince will not listen to me; we are lost. 
 Come !" said he, taking hold of Charming's cloak ; "up, sire ; 
 to horse, unhappy prince ! Save your kingdom save your 
 people save all that love you. Coward ! look at me ; I am 
 nothing but a child, yet I am about to die for you. Fight ! do 
 not disgrace yourself. If you do not rise I will insult you 
 I, your servant. You are a coward ; do you hear ? a cow- 
 ard!" 
 
 And behold, the insolent page boxed the king's ears. / 
 
 "S'death!" cried Charming, drawing his sword." "Before 
 
 ' 
 

 2OO Fairy Book. 
 
 dying I will have the pleasure of punishing one subject, at 
 least." 
 
 But the page had left the tent. With one bound he sprang 
 into the saddle and galloped toward the enemy, sword in 
 hand, crying, u The king ! my friends the king ! Sound the 
 trumpets ! Forward !" 
 
 Charming, mad with anger, spurred his horse in pursuit of 
 the page : like a bull at the sight of a red flag, he rushed for- 
 ward, head downward, caring neither for death nor danger. 
 Bayonet rushed after the king, and the army after the general. 
 It was the finest cavalry charge ever known in history. 
 
 At the noise of the squadrons, which shook the ground like 
 thunder, the enemy, surprised, scarcely had time to form in 
 line of battle. One man, however, had recognized the king 
 the infamous Wieduwillst Charming was alone ; wholly ab- 
 sorbed in his vengeance, he saw nothing but the page whom 
 he was pursuing. The traitor threw himself on the prince, 
 sword in hand, and would have slain him at one stroke had 
 not Tonto, plunging his spurs into the flanks of his horse, 
 made the animal rear and fall on Wieduwillst. The page re- 
 ceived the blow intended for his master. He threw up his 
 arms and fell with a loud cry; but his fall, at least, was 
 avenged. The king thrust his sword into the throat of the 
 treacherous physician^nd drew it forth, dripping with blood, 
 not without pleasure. Man is decidedly the king of wild 
 beasts. 
 
 The traitor's death decided the fate of the day. The royal 
 army, electrified by the heroism of its leader, soon dispersed 
 the straggling battalions. The rebels, having nothing more 
 to hope, sued for pardon, and their prayer was granted by the 
 happy and clement king. \ 
 
 An hour after quitting the camp where he had wished to 
 die, Charming returned in triumph, bringing with him con- 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 201 
 
 querors and conquered, all blended in the same ranks, the 
 former loudly protesting their loyalty, the latter overpowering 
 them with their enthusiasm. Nothing sharpens devotion so 
 much as a little treason. 
 
 X. 
 
 IN WHICH WE SEE THAT IT IS WRONG TO JUDGE ACCORDING 
 TO APPEARANCES, AND THAT TONTO WAS NOT TONTO. 
 
 THE king entered his tent to rest a moment, when the sight 
 of Rachimburg reminded him of Tonto. 
 
 " Is the page dead ?" he asked. 
 
 " No, sire," answered Rachimburg ; " unfortunately for him, 
 he is still living ; he is hopeless. I ordered him carried to his 
 aunt's, the Countess de Castro's, close by here." 
 
 "Is he the countess's nephew?" said the king. "I was 
 never told of it." 
 
 " Your majesty has forgotten it," replied Rachimburg, qui- 
 etly. " The poor child is fatally wounded in the shoulder ; he 
 can not recover. It would give him great happiness could he 
 see your majesty before he dies." 
 
 " Very well," returned the king ; " lead me to him." 
 
 On his arrival at the castle Charming was met by the count- 
 ess, who conducted him to a darkened room. The page was 
 stretched, pale and bleeding, on a couch ; nevertheless, he had 
 strength to raise his head and welcome the king. 
 
 " What a miracle !" exclaimed Charming. " This is the 
 strangest wound that I ever saw in my life : one side of Ton- 
 to's mustache is gone !" 
 
 " Sire," said the countess, " the blade of the sword probably 
 swept off one side. Nothing is so capricious as sword wounds, 
 as every one knows." 
 
 " How strange !" cried the king. " On one side it is Tonto, 
 
 12 
 
2O2 Fairy Book. 
 
 my page, my insolent subject, 
 and on the other it is no, I 
 am not mistaken it is you, 
 my good angel and my savior 
 it is you, my poor Pazza !" 
 
 He fell on his knees and 
 seized her hand, which lay on 
 the coverlet. 
 
 " Sire," said Pazza, " my days are numbered, but before dy- 
 ing" 
 
 " No, no, Pazza, you shall not die," cried the king, in tears. 
 " Before dying," she added, casting down her eyes, " I hope 
 that your majesty will forgive me the box on the ear which I 
 gave you this morning in indiscreet zeal " 
 
 " Enough," said the king ; " I forgive you. After all, a 
 throne and honor were well worth what I received." 
 "Alas !" said Pazza, "that is not all." 
 " What !" exclaimed Charming, " is there any thing more !" 
 " Oh, sire, what have you done ?" cried the countess ; " my 
 child is dying !" 
 
 " My Pazza, you must not die !" exclaimed the king. " Speak, 
 and be sure that I forgive in advance all you have done. Alas ! 
 it is I that have need of forgiveness." 
 
 " Sire, the little doctor who took the liberty of boxing your 
 majesty's ears " 
 
 " Was it you that sent him ?" asked Charming, with a frown. 
 " No, sire, I myself was he. Ah ! what would I not have 
 done to save my king! It was I who, to save your majesty 
 from the traitorous knaves that surrounded you, took the lib- 
 erty of boxing your ears " 
 
 " Enough," said Charming ; " I forgive you, though the les- 
 son was a harsh one." 
 
 " Alas ! this is not all," said Pazza. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 203 
 
 " What, more !" cried the king, rising. 
 
 " Oh, aunt, I am dying !" exclaimed Pazza. By dint of 
 care, however, she was restored to life ; and, turning her lan- 
 guishing eyes toward the king, " Sire," said she, " the gipsy 
 girl at the masked ball, who dared to box your ears " 
 
 " Was yourself, Pazza ?" said Charming. " Oh, I forgive 
 you for that; I well deserved it. How could I doubt you, 
 who are sincerity itself! But, now I think of it, do you re- 
 member the rash vow that you made on the night of our mar- 
 riage ? You have, kept your promise, it is for me to keep 
 mine. Pazza, make haste to recover, and return to the castle 
 from which happiness fled with you." 
 
 " I have a last favor to ask of your majesty," said Pazza. 
 " Rachimburg was the witness this morning of a scene for 
 which I blush, and of which all must remain ignorant. I 
 commend this faithful servant to your goodness." 
 
 " Rachimburg," said the king, " take this purse, and keep 
 the secret under penalty of your head." 
 
2O4 Fairy Book. 
 
 "That makes the fourth," whispered Rachimburg to him- 
 self; "my fortune is made." 
 
 In a few moments Pazza was asleep. " Do you think that 
 she will recover ?'' asked Charming, anxiously, of the countess. 
 
 " Bah !" said the old lady. " No matter how ill a woman 
 may be, happiness will bring her back from the brink of the 
 grave. Kiss the queen, my nephew ; it will do her more good 
 than all the doctors in the world." 
 
 Charming stooped and kissed the sleeping Pazza. An an- 
 gelic smile stole over her features, at the sight of which he 
 wept like a child. 
 
 XL 
 
 A WIFE SHOULD OBEY HER HUSBAND. 
 
 THE countess was right (women are always right past 
 sixty). A fortnight of happiness set Pazza on her feet again, 
 and enabled her to make a triumphant entry into the city with 
 the king, her husband. Her paleness, and her wounded arm, 
 which she carried in a sling, added to her grace and beauty. 
 Charming had eyes for no one but the queen, and the people's 
 looks followed the king's, i 
 
 They were more than aA hour in reaching the castle. The 
 magistrates had erected not less than three triumphal arches, 
 frowning fortresses, defended each by thirty-six deputations 
 and thirty-six speeches. The first arch, made of trellis-work, 
 and adorned with leaves and flowers, bore the inscription, 
 
 - TO THE MOST TENDER AND FAITHFUL OF HUSBANDS. 
 
 This was intrusted to the keeping of five or six thousand 
 young girls, dressed in white, with pink ribbons, representing 
 the spring of the year, the hope of the future, welcoming Glory 
 and Beauty. 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 205 
 
 The second arch, more solidly built, was a frame covered 
 with tapestry, surmounted by Justice, with her eyes bandaged 
 and her scales in her hand. 
 
 On the pedestal of the statue was written, 
 
 TO THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE, 
 THE BEST AND WISEST OF PRINCES. 
 
 A host of priests, statesmen, and magistrates, in robes of 
 all colors, represented Religion, Wisdom, and Virtue ; at least 
 so said these venerable and discreet personages, who are never 
 in error. 
 
 Last came an immense arch, a true military trophy, bearing 
 as its motto, 
 
 TO THE BOLDEST AND MOST VALIANT OF KINGS. 
 
 Here the army awaited its general, and the queen was sa- 
 luted by the majestic voice of a hundred cannon and two 
 hundred drums a voice before which all human eloquence 
 falters, and which always has the last word. 
 
 I spare you a description of the dinner, which was intermin- 
 able, and of sixty more speeches from the court gazette, where 
 they had already done service two or three times, and where- 
 in they were again deposited for the use of future generations. 
 There is nothing so monotonous as happiness, and we must 
 be indulgent to those who sing its praises officially. In such 
 cases, the ablest is he who says the least. 
 
 The long evening, during which the king had lavished his 
 most gracious smiles on those whom he despised at the bot- 
 tom of his heart, was at length at an end, and Charming led 
 Pazza, no longer to a dungeon, but to a magnificent apart- 
 ment, where a new surprise awaited her. At the bottom of 
 the room was an illuminated transparency, on which were 
 written lines so bad that a king alone could have been the 
 
206 Fairy Book. 
 
 author of them. These lines, which were not published in the 
 official gazette, have been handed down to us by one of those 
 indiscreet persons who suffer no follies of the past to be lost 
 Such persons are the rag-pickers of history. 
 
 " Ye indolent dunces, who rust in your sloth, 
 
 Too lazy or willful to learn ; 
 Ye courtiers, who crowd round the king, nothing loth 
 
 By base flattery his favor to earn ; 
 Ye doctors, who laugh at us cowards, and sell 
 
 Long words and wise oracles dear-r 
 Beware lest some night a mischievous sprite 
 
 Should give you a box on the ear. 
 
 " And you, ye proud husbands, puffed up with conceit, 
 
 Who deem yourselves statesmen so wise 
 That the whole world admiringly bows at your feet 
 
 Who truth, love, and goodness despise 
 Beware lest some day your less frivolous wives, 
 
 Derided by those they held dear, 
 Should start from your side, aroused by just pride, 
 
 And give you a box on the ear." 
 
 " What means this enigma, sire ?" asked Pazza. 
 irx^" It means that I do myself justice," answered the king. 
 .'. " I am nothing except through you, dear Pazza ; all that I 
 know and all that I think I owe to you. Without you I am 
 nothing but a soulless body, fit only for follies." 
 
 " Pardon me if I contradict your majesty," said Pazza. 
 
 " Oh," returned the king, " I affect no false modesty ; I know 
 very well that I have the clearest head of any in my council ; 
 my ministers themselves are forced to acknowledge it, for they 
 are always of my opinion ; but with all this there is more wis- 
 dom in your little finger than in all my royal brain. My reso- 
 lution, therefore, is fixed. Let my court and people celebrate 
 my wisdom, my goodness, and even my valor ; it is all very 
 well, and I accept the homage. You alone have the right to 
 laugh at it, and you will not betray me. But from this day I 
 abandon my power to you. The king, my dear Pazza, will be 
 
King Bizarre and Prince Charming. 207 
 
 only the chief of your subjects, the faithful minister of your 
 will. You shall write the piece and I will play it ; the applause 
 will be mine, according to custom, and I will give it back to 
 you by force of love." 
 
 " Do not talk in this way, my dear," said Pazza. 
 
 " I know what I am saying," returned the king, warmly. " I 
 wish you to rule ; I mean that in my empire, as in my house, 
 nothing shall be done except by your command ; I am the 
 master and the king ; I desire and order it." 
 
 " Sire," said Pazza, " I am your wife and servant j it is my 
 duty to obey." 
 
 After this, says the chronicle, they lived happily to a good 
 'old age, beloved by all their subjects ; and the people of the 
 kingdom of Wild Oats still talk of the good old days of 
 Prince Charming and the Princess Pazza. 
 
ABDALLAH; 
 
 OR, THE FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. 
 
 AN ARABIAN TALE. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE JOY OF THE HOUSE. 
 
 AT Djiddah the rich, on the shores of the Red Sea, there 
 once lived an Egyptian merchant by the name of Hadji Man- 
 sour. It was said that he had formerly been a slave of the 
 great Ali Bey, and had served by turns, and sometimes even 
 at the same time, the French and the Turks, the Mamelukes 
 and Mehemet Ali, in the wars of Egypt. During the struggle 
 each party relied on him for provisions, arms, and camels, yet 
 after the battle he always complained of having ruined him- 
 self for the victor. It is true that at that time no one showed 
 more zeal, and no one obtained more cheaply the spoils of the 
 vanquished. In this honest vocation the obliging Mansour 
 had gained great wealth, though not without some anxieties. 
 He had been denounced by the envious as a spy, he had been 
 bastinadoed by fanatics as a traitor, twice even he would have 
 been hung had it not been for the charity of a pacha, who 
 had consented, for the trifling sum of a million of piastres, to 
 acknowledge such shining innocence. Mansour had too lofty 
 a soul to be dismayed by these political risks ; and if he re- 
 tired, when peace was made, to Djiddah, it was only because 
 lawful commerce was thenceforth the only road that led to 
 fortune. 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 209 
 
 In this new kind of life Mansour was neither less prudent 
 nor less successful. It was a common report that his house 
 was paved with gold and precious stones. Little love was 
 bestowed on the Egyptian, who was a stranger in Arabia, and 
 who passed for one of the harshest of creditors ; but at Djid- 
 dah men dared not openly show contempt for a man who 
 measured gold by the bushel, and as soon as Mansour ap- 
 peared in the bazar, all ran to vie for the honor of holding his 
 stirrup and kissing his hand. The merchant received all this 
 homage with the modesty of a man who knows the preroga- 
 tives of wealth : thirty years of avarice and cunning had 
 brought all honest men to his feet. 
 
 One thing alone was lacking to this favorite of fortune, and 
 disturbed his happiness : he had no children. When he pass- 
 ed before the shop of a poor tradesman and saw the father 
 surrounded by young sons, the hope and pride of the house, 
 he sighed with regret and envy, and on his return he shut 
 himself up in his warehouse, forgot his pipe, and, instead of 
 telling his beads or reciting the verses of the Koran, slowly 
 stroked his white beard, reflecting with terror in his heart 
 that old age was approaching, and that he should leave none 
 of his flesh and blood behind him to carry on the business 
 after he was gone. His only heir was the pacha, who might 
 grow tired of waiting, in which case what would hinder him 
 from dispatching a solitary foreigner, and laying violent hands 
 on these dearly-bought treasures ? 
 
 These thoughts and fears poisoned the life of the Egyptian. 
 What was his joy, therefore, when one of his wives, an Abys- 
 sinian woman, announced to him that he would soon be a 
 father ! At this news the good man wellnigh lost his reason. 
 Twice as avaricious and covetous since he had begun to 
 amass treasures for his child, he shut himself up to weigh and 
 count his gold, unfolded his rich stuffs, and dug up his dia- 
 
2io Fairy Book. 
 
 monds, pearls, and rubies ; then talked to these lifeless things 
 as if they could understand him, and told them of the new 
 master who would watch over and love them in turn. When 
 he went into the city he insisted on talking to all he met of his 
 son, for it was a son that God owed his faithful servant, and 
 was greatly astonished to see every one attending to his busi- 
 ness as usual, when all the inhabitants of Djiddah should 
 have had but one thought, namely, that God, in his justice, 
 was about to bless the house of the shrewd and fortunate 
 Mansour. 
 
 The Egyptian was not disappointed in his expectations; 
 and, that nothing might be wanting to his happiness, a son 
 was born to him at the most favorable hour of the most auspi- 
 cious month of the year. When, on the eighth day, he was 
 permitted to see this long-wished-for child, he tremblingly ap- 
 proached the palm-tree cradle, lined with cotton, where the 
 heir of the Mansours was sleeping on a silken handkerchief 
 embroidered with gold, and, gently raising the veil that cover- 
 ed it, perceived a robust infant, almost as black as his mother, 
 already gathering the cotton about him with his tiny hands. 
 At this sight Mansour stood dumb with admiration ; large 
 tears trickled down his cheeks ; then, controlling his feelings 
 with an effort, he took the babe in his arms, and, approaching 
 his lips to its ear, " God is great," he murmured ; " there is no 
 God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet." More tran- 
 quil after this prayer, he gazed lovingly at his son. " Oh, gift 
 of God," cried he, "thou art but a week old, but, to see thy 
 strength and grace, one would take thee for a year at least. 
 Thy face shines like the full moon ! Say," said he, turning to 
 the mother, " what have you named him ?" 
 
 " If God had afflicted me with a daughter," answered the 
 Ethiopian, " I should have chosen a name for her ; but since 
 I have had the glory of bringing a man-child into the world, 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 2 1 1 
 
 to you belongs that honor. Beware, however, of too ambitious 
 a name, which might arouse the jealousy of the evil eye." 
 
 Mansour was reflecting, when suddenly he heard a noise in 
 the street. A Persian dervish was driving before him an ass 
 laden with provisions, while a crowd of children was follow- 
 ing the heretic, and showering him with abuse and blows. 
 The dervish pressed forward like a man who neither feared 
 nor sought martyrdom, stopping now and then to rail at his 
 enemies. " Accursed be thou, oh Omar !"* cried he, striking 
 the ass, " and accursed be all who resemble thee !" " Behold 
 a new proof of my happiness !" cried Mansour. " My child 
 shall be called Omar ; such a name will ward off the evil eye, 
 and preserve him from all witchcraft." 
 
 As he was replacing the babe in the cradle, a Bedouin 
 woman entered the room with an infant in her arms. She 
 was tall and well formed ; her face was unveiled, as is the 
 custom in the desert ; and her mien was so graceful and dig- 
 nified that, poorly clad as she was, she might have been taken 
 for a sultana. 
 
 " Welcome, Halima," said Mansour. " I have not forgotten 
 that Yusuf, your husband, fell in my service while defending 
 my last caravan. The moment has come to prove that I am 
 not ungrateful. You know what I expect of you. If I can 
 not make my son a sherif or give him the green turban, I can 
 at least cause him to be brought up like the son of a sherif, 
 under a tent, among the noble Beni Amurs. Admitted into 
 your family, and nurtured with your son, my beloved Omar 
 will learn a purer speech than mine, and will find friends 
 among your kindred who will protect him in after years. On 
 my side, I shall fittingly recognize and reward your devotion. 
 Let the friendship of our children begin from this day ; from 
 this day let them sleep in the same cradle. To-morrow you 
 
 * Homar, or Omar, in Arabic, signifies an ass. 
 
212 Fairy Book. 
 
 shall carry them away, that they may grow up together in your 
 tribe. Omar shall be your son as Abdallah shall be mine ; 
 may Fortune smile on both !" 
 
 " May God be their refuge against Satan, the accursed !" 
 answered Halima, bowing her head. "We are in God's 
 hands \ to Him we must return." 
 
 Mansour looked at her, smiling. He was a freethinker, 
 and had little faith in God, although his name was constantly 
 on his lips. He had lived too long, and mixed too much with 
 men, to believe that God meddles much with the affairs of 
 this world ; on the other hand, he had a strong belief in the 
 devil, of whom he stood in great lear. The only action in his 
 whole life for which he reproached himself was that of having 
 thrown seven stones at the great devil of Jamrat at the time 
 of his pilgrimage to Mecca, and he still feared the rancor of 
 Satan whom he had stoned. Doubtless he was proud of 
 having cheaply earned the noble title of hadji,* which ren- 
 dered him worthy of respect in the eyes of his customers ; it 
 was with the purest devotion that he spoke of the Caaba, f 
 that gem of Paradise placed by Father Abraham in the holy 
 city of Mecca, but at heart he was not easy respecting the 
 consequences of his imprudence, and would even have sur- 
 rendered the name of hadji to have been sure of the devil's 
 forgiveness for his rashness. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE HOROSCOPE. 
 
 THE same evening, just as the moon was rising, the wise 
 Mansour entered the room where the two children were sleep- 
 ing peacefully in each other's arms, followed by a ragged der 
 
 * Hadji, or saint, is the name given to those who have made the pilgrimage to Mecca. 
 t The holy house, or principal temple of Mecca. 
 
Abdallak ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 213 
 
 vish, with a dirty, uncombed beard, bearing a strong resem- 
 blance to the reviled heretic of the morning. He was one of 
 those shameless beggars who seek the fortunes of others in 
 the stars without ever rinding their own therein, and who, al- 
 ways pursued and hooted at, and always employed, will last 
 as long as the malice of Satan, or the avarice and credulity of 
 men. Halima was unwilling to leave the children with this 
 suspicious personage, but Mansour commanded it, and she 
 was forced to obey. Scarcely had she quitted the room when 
 the Egyptian led the dervish to the cradle, and ordered him 
 to draw his son's horoscope. 
 
 After attentively gazing at the child, the astrologer mount- 
 ed the house-top and observed the stars ; then, taking a coal, 
 he traced a large circle, divided into several compartments, 
 in which he placed the planets, and at length declared that 
 the heavens were not inauspicious. If Mars and Venus were 
 indifferent, Mercury, on the contrary, appeared under a better 
 aspect. This was all that he could tell for the two sequins 
 that Mansour had given him. 
 
 The merchant led the diviner back to the chamber, and, 
 showing him two large doubloons, " Is there no means," said 
 he, " of knowing more ? Have the stars already revealed all 
 their secrets ?" 
 
 " Art is infinite," answered the dervish, pouncing on the 
 gold ; " I can also tell you under the influence of what sign 
 the child is destined to live." 
 
 Drawing from his girdle a cabalistic tablet and a bronze 
 pen, the astrologer wrote the names of the child and the 
 mother, placing the letters in a line ; he then calculated the 
 numerical value of the letters, and, looking at Mansour with 
 sparkling eyes, " Happy father," he said, " your son is born 
 under the sign of the Balance ; if he lives, he may expect ev- 
 ery thing from fortune." 
 
214 Fairy Book. 
 
 " What, if he lives !" cried Mansour. " What is it that you 
 read on that accursed tablet ? Does any danger threaten my 
 son?" 
 
 " Yes," replied the dervish, " a danger which I can not de- 
 fine. His best friend will be his worst enemy." 
 
 " Ha ! what was I about to do ?" said the Egyptian. " Per- 
 chance this Bedouin child, whom I have placed in my son's 
 cradle, will one day be his murderer ? If I thought so, I would 
 strangle him on the spot." 
 
 " Beware of it," returned the diviner. " If your son's life 
 is bound up with that of this child, you would only kill them 
 both at one blow. There is no proof that this Bedouin, des- 
 tined to dwell among the tents, will one day be the best friend 
 of the richest merchant of Djiddah. Besides, what refuge is 
 there against destiny ? Can you change what is traced by the 
 pen of the angels ? What is written is written." 
 
 " Doubtless," said the merchant ; " but God His name be 
 exalted! has said, in the Book of Books, 'Cast not your- 
 selves down with your own hands into perdition.' " 
 
 " The day of death," returned the dervish, gravely, " is one 
 of the five mysteries, the key of which God holds in his own 
 hands. Do you remember the story of the man who was with 
 Solomon one day when Azrael passed by the king in a visible 
 shape ? Frightened by the look cast on him by the terrible 
 stranger, he asked who he was ; and upon Solomon's ac- 
 quainting him that it was the angel of death, ' He seems to 
 want me,' said he ; ' wherefore order the wind to carry me 
 hence to India.' Which being accordingly done, the angel 
 said to Solomon, 1 1 looked so earnestly at this man out of 
 wonder, because I was commanded to take his soul in India, 
 and found him with thee in Palestine.' 
 
 " No man can flee from death. Do as he will, 
 Falls soon or late the arm e'er raised to strike ; 
 The sage is he who looks it in the face, 
 Nor fears nor braves the doom decreed by Fate." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 215 
 
 With these words the astrologer bowed to take leave of 
 Mansour, who clutched his robe. 
 
 " Have you any thing more to ask me ?" said the dervish, 
 looking attentively at the Egyptian. 
 
 " Yes," replied the merchant ; " but I dare not give utter- 
 ance to my thoughts. Yet you seem to me a friend, and you 
 will pardon a father's weakness where his son's interest is 
 concerned. A wise man like you, who reads the stars, must 
 have carried your curiosity to great lengths. It is said that 
 there are men who, by dint of science, have discovered the 
 great name of God that name which has been revealed only 
 to the apostles and the Prophet (his name be blessed !) that 
 name which suffices to raise the dead and kill the living 
 that name which causes the world to tremble, and compels 
 the infernal powers and Eblis* himself to obey it like a slave. 
 Do you perchance know one of these learned men, and do 
 you think that he would refuse to oblige a man who had not 
 the reputation of being ungrateful ?" 
 
 " You are prudence itself," returned the astrologer, in a low 
 voice, approaching Mansour ; " you may be trusted ; yet words 
 are naught but wind, and the fairest promises like dreams 
 that take flight with the morning." 
 
 For his sole reply Mansour thrust his right arm into the 
 dervish's long sleeve, and placed one finger in his hand. 
 
 " A purse !"t exclaimed the astrologer, in a disdainful tone j 
 " it is the price of a camel. What madman would evoke Sa- 
 tan at the risk of his own life for such a trifle ?" 
 
 The Egyptian stretched out a second finger, looking at the 
 dervish, whose face wore an air of indifference ; then, after a 
 moment's silence, he heaved a deep sigh and placed a third 
 finger in the dervish's hand. 
 
 * One of the names of Satan among the Arabs, 
 t A purse is about twenty-five dollars. 
 
216 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Three purses !" said the astrologer ; " it is the cost of an 
 infidel slave. The soul of a Mussulman can not be bought 
 at such a price. Let us part, Mansour, and forget the im- 
 prudent words you have spoken." 
 
 " Do not abandon me !" cried the merchant, grasping the 
 dervish's arm with his whole hand. " Five purses are a large 
 sum, and all that I can give. If necessary, I add to it the 
 offer of my soul ; our common peril will answer to you for my 
 discretion." 
 
 " Give me the five purses, then," returned the magician, 
 " and my friendship shall do the rest. I own my weakness ; 
 I have been unable to see you without being drawn to you : 
 may this yielding not cost me too dear !" 
 
 Mansour brought the money. The dervish weighed it sev- 
 eral times, and placed it in his girdle with the tranquillity of a 
 resolute heart ; then, taking the lamp, he walked three times 
 round the cradle, murmuring strange words, waving the light 
 before the child's face, and prostrating himself again and 
 again at the four corners of the room, followed by Mansour, 
 who trembled with fear and anxiety. 
 
 After all these ceremonies, which appeared endless to the 
 merchant, the magician placed the lamp on a bench along the 
 wall, and, taking a little box from his inexhaustible girdle, 
 poured a black powder upon the burning wick. A thick 
 smoke instantly filled the whole room, amid which Mansour 
 fancied that he saw the infernal figure and flaming eyes of an 
 Afrite.* The dervish seized him by the arm, and both threw 
 themselves on the carpet, their faces buried in their hands. 
 
 " Speak," said the dervish, in a breathless voice, " speak, 
 but do not lift your head as you value your life. Make three 
 wishes : Eblis is here, and will grant your prayer." 
 
 " I wish that my son may be rich all his life," murmured 
 Mansour. 
 
 * One of the infernal genii. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 2 1 7 
 
 " So be it !" returned a strange voice, which seemed to come 
 from the other end of the room, though Mansour had seen 
 the apparition before him. 
 
 " I wish that my son may always have good health," contin- 
 ued the Egyptian, " for, without health, of what use is fortune ?" 
 
 " So be it !" returned the voice. 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Mansour hesitated as to 
 his third wish. " Shall I wish for wit ?" thought he. " No, he 
 is my son, and he will inherit his father's cunning." The der- 
 vish's prediction suddenly recurred to his memory. " Threat- 
 ened by his best friend," thought he, " there is but one means 
 of safety for him, namely, to love no one, and to think of him- 
 self alone. Besides, anxiety for others spoils our own life, 
 and those we oblige are always ungrateful. I wish that my 
 son may love no one but himself," said he, at length. 
 
 K 
 
218 Fairy Book. 
 
 " So be it !" returned the voice, with a terrible cry, which 
 frightened the Egyptian so much that he remained motionless 
 till the dervish pulled the skirt of his robe and commanded 
 him to rise. At the same moment a jet of flame shot from 
 the lamp, and the whole room seemed in a blaze. Mansour, 
 terrified at his own rashness, rushed to the door to assure 
 himself that he was still alive and that nothing had changed 
 in the house. 
 
 While the dervish was putting on his cloak and sandals 
 like a man whom habit hardens against fear, a woman rushed 
 to the cradle of the infants. It was Halima,who had remain- 
 ed near the room during the enchantment, and whose terror 
 had been heightened by Mansour's sudden departure. Her 
 first care was to wet her finger with her lips and pass it over 
 the forehead of the children, repeating a formula to ward off 
 the evil eye. The serenity of the. dervish reassured her; she 
 blamed herself for having suspected this pious personage of 
 magic, who wore on his face the blissful tranquillity of sanctity, 
 and, respectfully approaching him, she kissed the hem of his 
 robe. "Holy man," said she, "my son is an orphan, and I am 
 a poor woman ; I can offer you nothing but gratitude, but " 
 
 " Well, well," exclaimed the astrologer, " I know in advance 
 what you would ask of me that your son should be rich, is it 
 not ? For this, what need have you of my aid ? Make him a 
 merchant, and let him steal like old Mansour ; make him a 
 bashaw, and let him pillage his brethren ; make him a der- 
 vish, and let him flatter and lie : all the vices lead to fortune 
 when they are joined with the vilest of all avarice. This is 
 the secret of life. Adieu." 
 
 "This is not what I wish," said the astonished Halima; 
 " you do wrong to deride me in this way. My son will be an 
 honest man, like his father.; and what I wish is that he may 
 be happy here on earth." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 219 
 
 " Virtuous and happy !" cried the dervish, with a sardonic 
 laugh ; " and you address yourself to me ! My good woman, 
 what you want is the four-leaved clover, which none has seen 
 since Adam. Let your son seek it ; if he finds it, be sure 
 that he will lack for nothing." 
 
 " What is the four-leaved clover ?" cried the anxious mother ; 
 but the magician had disappeared, never more to return. Man 
 or demon, none has since beheld him. Halima, full of emo- 
 tion, bent over the cradle and gazed at her son, who seemed 
 to smile on her in his sleep. " Rest in peace," said she, " and 
 rely on my love. I know not what this talisman is of which 
 the dervish speaks, but, child of my soul ! we will seek it to- 
 gether, and something tells me that you will find it. Satan is 
 cunning and man is weak, but God rules the heart of his faith- 
 ful and does what he will." 
 
 III. 
 
 THE EDUCATION. 
 
 IN choosing the Bedouin woman to whom to intrust Omar, 
 Mansour had given a new proof of his usual prudence. From 
 the first day Halima showed her nursling all a mother's affec- 
 tion, and tended him more carefully than her own offspring. 
 When she was forced to leave her tent, the cherished child that 
 she carried on her shoulder was always Et Tagir, or the little 
 merchant, as Omar was called among the Beni Amurs. Yet 
 what a difference was there between the two brothers ! Tall, 
 slender, supple, and agile, with his clear eyes and brilliant 
 complexion, Abdallah would have filled any father's heart with 
 pride ; while the son of Mansour, with his swarthy skin, thick 
 neck, and round paunch, was only an Egyptian astray in the 
 desert. What mattered it to the Bedouin woman ? Had she 
 not nourished them both with the same milk? Who knows 
 
220 Fairy Book. 
 
 even whether, like a true mother, she had not a secret weak* 
 ness for the child which had the most need of her love ? 
 
 As he grew, Abdallah soon showed all the nobleness of his 
 race. On seeing him with the Egyptian, one would have said 
 that he already felt himself the master of the tent, and was 
 proud of exercising the rites of hospitality. Although but six 
 months older than Omar, he made himself his brother's guard- 
 ian and protector, and his greatest pleasure was to amuse, 
 serve, and defend him. In all the games and feasts, he in- 
 sisted on giving the little merchant the best place ; and when- 
 ever a quarrel arose, it was always he, and he alone, that 
 fought, adroit, strong, and hardy, like a son of the desert. 
 
 Omar willingly remained in the background, as if he al- 
 ready understood the advantage to be derived from an uncal- 
 culating friendship. As indolent as a dweller in cities, he 
 seldom quitted the tent. The Bedouin ran between the legs 
 of the mares, wrestled with the colts, and climbed the camels 
 without making them kneel ; the Egyptian, his legs crossed 
 on a mat, passed the greater part of the day in sleeping, and 
 felt naught but disdain for the noisy exploits which made the 
 joy of Abdallah. When he mixed with other children, it was 
 only to play merchant with them. The son of Mansour had 
 singular skill in bartering a date for a citron, a citron for an 
 orange, and an orange for a piece of coral or some other toy. 
 At ten years of age, Omar had already found that the best use 
 of a rosary was to aid in counting. He was not, however, un- 
 grateful ; he loved his brother after his fashion. He shower- 
 ed innumerable caresses on Abdallah, who seldom returned 
 home without bringing bananas, pomegranates, apricots, or 
 some other fruit that had been given him by the women of 
 the neighborhood, who were charmed with his grace and 
 sprightliness. By dint of tenderness, Omar always secured 
 what he wished ; but he was not better pleased with the sue- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 221 
 
 cess of his cunning than was his brother in letting himself be 
 despoiled by the one he loved. Each of us is born with his 
 destiny clinging about his neck like a heavy collar, and hur- 
 rying him onward ; a fox nurtured by a lioness will always be 
 a fox, and a merchant's son will never make a Bedouin. 
 
 At the age of ten, thanks to Halima, Abdallah's education 
 was finished ; he knew all that a Beni Amur needed to know. 
 The son of Yusuf could recite the genealogy of his family and 
 tribe ; he knew the pedigree, name, surname, coat, and brand 
 of all the horses ; he could read in the stars the hour of the 
 night, and the shadows told him the time of the day. No 
 one knew better how to make the camels kneel ; no one 
 chanted to them in a more melodious voice those sweet songs 
 which shorten their way and make them quicken their pace, 
 despite fatigue and heat. Already even he handled the gun 
 and brandished the lance and sabre as if he had been in half 
 a score of caravans. Halima contemplated his youthful cour- 
 age with tears of joy, happy to see that the child whom she 
 had brought into the world would some day be the honor of 
 his people and the delight of his tribe. 
 
 Halima was a true Mussulman; she knew that wisdom, 
 strength, and consolation are in God alone. The children 
 were scarcely seven years old when she had already taught 
 chem to recite the five prayers and make the ablutions. In 
 the morning, as soon as a faint light illumined the east; at 
 noon, when the sun turned ; in the afternoon, when the shad- 
 ows began to lengthen ; at even, when the sun set in the hori- 
 zon ; and, lastly, at night, when darkness covered the earth, 
 Omar and Abdallah stretched the carpet of prayer upon the 
 ground, and, turning toward Mecca, repeated the holy words 
 which comprise all religion, " There is no god but God, and 
 Mohammed is his prophet." The prayer ended, Halima loved 
 to repeat to the children the precepts of Ayesha precepts 
 
222 Fairy Book. 
 
 which she made the rule of her life. " Sons of my soul P she 
 would say to them, " listen to what Ayesha, the beloved spouse 
 of the Prophet, the peerless virgin, and the mother of the 
 faithful, replied to a Mussulman who asked her counsel. 
 Remember these holy maxims ; they are the legacy of the 
 Prophet himself, and the pearl of truth. 
 
 " Acknowledge that there is but one God alone ; remain 
 steadfast in the faith; instruct yourself; bridle your tongue; 
 repress your wrath 3 forbear to do evil ; associate with the 
 good ; screen the faults of your neighbor ; relieve the poor by 
 your alms ; and expect your reward in eternity." 
 
 The two children were thus brought up, surrounded with 
 the same love, and a love so tender and equal that the two 
 brothers never suspected that they were not of the same 
 blood. One day, however, an old man entered the tent, arm- 
 ed with a tablet of wood, painted white, on which elegant char- 
 acters were traced in black. The sheik enjoyed great renown 
 in the tribe ; it was said that he had formerly studied at Cairo 
 in El Azar, that splendid mosque, the fountain of light, which 
 is the joy of the faithful and the despair of infidels. He was 
 so learned that he could read the Koran, and copy with a 
 reed the ninety-nine names of God, and the Fat-hah.* To 
 the great astonishment of the Bedouin, the old man, after 
 talking in a low tone to Halima, who put a purse in his hand, 
 turned his sole attention to the son of Mansour, caressed him 
 with paternal tenderness, seated him by his side, put the tab- 
 let in his hands, and, after teaching him how to sway the head 
 and body to aid the memory, made him chant the whole al- 
 phabet after him. Omar took so lively an interest in his les- 
 son that on the very first day he learned the numerical value 
 of all the letters. The sheik embraced him anew, promising 
 him that, if he went on in this way, he would soon be more 
 
 * The first chapter of the Koran, and the usual prayer of the Mussulmen. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 223 
 
 learned than his master, and quitted the tent without even 
 looking at Abdallah. 
 
 The poor boy's heart swelled at the sight of this lesson of 
 his brother's, by which he would have gladly profited. He 
 was spared a second trial. The next morning he was sent to 
 the fields to tend his mother's sheep. He was not alone ; he 
 had been placed in the care of a maternal uncle, a one-eyed 
 and crippled old shepherd, but a man of good counsel. Hafiz, 
 for this was the name of Halima's brother, was a brave soldier 
 and a pious Mussulman, who had seen much and suffered 
 much. The companion of Yusuf, Abdallah's father, and wound- 
 ed by his side, he was the last prop of an almost extinct family, 
 and, alone and childless as he was, he loved his nephew as his 
 own son. 
 
 It was he that had opposed the plan of making Abdallah a 
 scholar. "Would you know more than the Prophet, whom 
 may God protect and bless !" said he to the young Bedouin. 
 " What would you read the Koran ? But is it on vile rags 
 or your own heart that its sacred words should be en- 
 graved? Strange books what is the use? Is not every 
 thing contained in the Koran ? Is it not for rash spirits who 
 seek the truth elsewhere that it is written, ' The likeness of 
 those who take other patrons besides God is as the likeness 
 of the spider, which maketh herself a house ? but the weak- 
 est of all houses, surely, is the house of the spider, if they knew 
 this.' Those whose minds are swallowed up in books are like 
 asses laden with foreign wealth, which serves only to weigh 
 them down. Man was not born to amass the thoughts of 
 others, but to act for himself. Go forward, my son, with an 
 upright heart and in the fear of the Lord. At the age of 
 strength God will give thee wisdom and knowledge as to the 
 son of Jacob. It is thus that he rewards the just, for he him- 
 self has said it." 
 
224 Fairy Book. 
 
 These words kindled Abdallah's heart. Every day, when 
 the noontide heat confined them within the tent, Hafiz recited 
 to the son of Yusuf a few verses of the holy book, and made 
 him repeat them after him in turn. In this way, by degrees, 
 he taught him the whole Koran, beginning, after the Fdt-hdh, 
 with the short chapters On Men, The Day break , and The Unity 
 of God, and ending with the long and beautiful teachings con- 
 tained in the chapters On Women, The Family of Imran, and 
 The Cow. The child was like the sands of the desert, which 
 drink up the rain-drops without losing a single one ; he never 
 wearied of chanting this rhythmic prose, as superior to poetry as 
 the Word of God is to that of men. Day and night he repeat- 
 ed these precepts in which eloquence and wisdom are strung 
 together like pearls^n a necklace. Whenever a good Mussul- 
 man wished to give a feast to his comrades or to pay honors 
 to the tomb of a friend, the lame shepherd and his disciple 
 were called upon to recite the whole Koran or one of its thir- 
 ty sections. Seated on the ground around the master and 
 pupil, the Beni Amurs greedily drank in the divine words. 
 " God is great !" they exclaimed. " Gabriel himself was not 
 more beautiful than this young man when he deposited the 
 eternal revelation in the heart of the Prophet." 
 
 Hafiz not only taught his nephew the text of the Koran, 
 but also repeated to him the words of the Prophet which have 
 been handed down to us by his friends. He taught him the 
 four great duties enjoined by God on all who would be saved 
 the five daily prayers, the giving of one fortieth in alms, the 
 fast of Ramadan, and the pilgrimage to Mecca ; and held up 
 to his detestation the seven great sins those sins which beget 
 seven hundred others, and which destroy the soul idolatry, 
 that crime which God, according to his explicit declaration, 
 never pardons ; murder ; the charge of adultery falsely brought 
 against an honest woman ; wrong done to orphans ; usury ; 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 225 
 
 flight in an expedition against the infidels, and disobedience 
 to parents. " Oh, my son," he exclaimed, at the close of each 
 lesson, " thou who, by the decree of God, hast been placed 
 among the number of those who have received the Scriptures, 
 daily repeat that divine promise which is our whole strength 
 and comfort here below: 'Whoever obeyeth God and the 
 apostle, they shall be with those unto whom God has been 
 gracious, of the prophets, and the sincere, and the martyrs, 
 and the righteous, and these are most excellent company. 
 This is bounty from God, and from God nothing is hidden/ " 
 
 In order not to weary Abdallah, Hafiz often interspersed 
 his teachings with the stories of some of those innumerable 
 prophets to whose keeping God confided the truth while await- 
 ing the coming of Mohammed. Sometimes it was Adam, our 
 first father, to whom God in his goodness taught the name of 
 every living thing on earth. By the command of the Lord, 
 these creatures, born of fire, adored man, born of the dust of 
 the earth. A single one refused, the ungrateful Eblis, urged 
 by his pride to destruction. Unhappily, Adam and Eve suf- 
 fered themselves to be tempted by the enemy, and ate of the 
 forbidden fruit. To punish their disobedience, God drove 
 them from Paradise. Adam was flung upon the island of 
 Serendib, where his footprint may still be seen, and Eve fell at 
 Djiddah, where she was doomed to live two centuries in soli- 
 tude. God, however, at last took pity on the unhappy couple, 
 and Gabriel again reunited them on Mount Arafat, near that 
 miraculous spot where Abraham and Ishmael were to found 
 the holy Caaba. 
 
 At another time the cripple would tell how God showed 
 Abraham the kingdom of the heavens and the earth, that he 
 might know true science. Reared in the faith of his fathers, 
 the son of Azer worshipped the stars. When the night over- 
 shadowed him, he saw a star and cried, " This is my Lord !" 
 
 K 2 
 
226 Fairy Book. 
 
 but when it set he said, "I like not gods which set." And 
 when he saw the moon rising he cried, " This is my Lord ;" 
 but when he saw it set he said, " Verily, if my Lord direct me 
 not, I shall become as one of the people who go astray." 
 And when he saw the sun rising he said, " This is my Lord , 
 this is the greatest ;" but when he saw it set he said, " Oh, my 
 people, verily I am clear of your idolatrous worship." The 
 son of Azer understood that the stars scattered through the 
 heavens revealed a higher hand, as the footprints on the sand 
 tell of the traveler that has gone before. 
 
 Like a true Mussulman, Abraham had no sooner found the 
 true faith than he broke all the idols of his people except 
 Baal, on whose neck he hung the axe with which he had de- 
 molished them. When the furious Chaldeans asked who had 
 treated their gods in such a manner, " It is Baal," said Abra- 
 ham ; " ask him, and see what he will answer you." " An 
 idol can not speak," cried the Chaldeans ; and they said, 
 " Thou art an unbeliever !" But who can enlighten those who 
 have eyes, yet see not ! They are blinded by the very light 
 of truth. Furious at having been discomfited by a child, 
 Nimrod, the King of the Chaldeans, ordered Abraham to be 
 thrown into a fiery furnace. Vain cruelty ! the Lord Eternal 
 holds the power of life and death. By the command of God, 
 the fire consumed none but the unbelievers. For Abraham, 
 the funeral pile turned to a verdant meadow, and the flames 
 that surrounded him to a cool and refreshing breeze. It 
 is thus that the Lord lifts up the just and humbles the 
 proud. 
 
 Who could exhaust the sacred stories which have been 
 handed down to us by the Koran and tradition ! They are 
 more numerous and more beautiful than the stars in a sum- 
 mer sky. Hafiz told them as he had received them from his 
 fathers, and Abdallah repeated them with the like ardor and 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 227 
 
 faith. Sometimes it was of David, the blacksmith king, to 
 whom God taught the art of fabricating coats of mail to pro- 
 tect the faithful ; sometimes it was of Solomon, under whose 
 dominion the Lord placed the winds, the birds, and the genii. 
 Or it was of Balkis, the Queen of Sheba, when, seated on her 
 throne of gold and silver, set with precious stones, she received 
 Solomon's letter, brought her by a bird, kissed the seal, at 
 which Satan trembled, and became a Mussulman at the voice 
 of the wisest of kings. Or it was of the sleeping compan- 
 ions in the cavern, who awaited the reign of truth three hund- 
 red and nine years, with their faithful dog, El Rakim, crouch- 
 ed at their feet. Or it was of the sacred camel brought forth 
 from the rock at the prayer of Saleh, to confound the unbe- 
 lief of the Talmudites. When did God tire of working mir- 
 acles to succor the faithful ? 
 
 Of all these marvelous stories, to which the Bedouins never 
 tired of listening, the one which Halima oftenest asked of her 
 son was that of Job, that faithful servant who turned to God 
 in the midst of his anguish. In vain his wife, weary of seeing 
 him suffer, consented to worship Eblis to regain their lost hap- 
 piness. Job refused assistance from this accursed hand. If 
 he raised his body, eaten by worms, on the dunghill, it was 
 to lift to the Lord that touching prayer which won pardon 
 from God for the wretched sufferer : " Verily evil hath afflict- 
 ed me, but thou art the most merciful of those who show 
 mercy" beautiful words, which one of the faithful alone could 
 utter. 
 
 Hafiz was one of the faithful, but he was also a Bedouin, 
 proud of his race a soldier who loved the fray of battle. 
 " Think, my son," he would often say to Abdallah, " think of 
 the privileges which the Prophet has won for us, and which 
 we must defend to the death. To render our life easy God 
 has given us gardens, living springs of water, innumerable 
 
228 Fairy Book. 
 
 cattle, the dourah,* and the palm-tree ; to render it glorious, 
 he has given us a noble pedigree, a country that has never 
 been conquered, and a liberty that no master has ever pol- 
 luted. We are the kings of the desert. Our turbans are our 
 diadems, our tents are our palaces, our sabres are our ram- 
 parts, and God's own word is our law. Your father fell like 
 a martyr on the field of battle. Among your ancestors, for 
 one who by chance has breathed his last under a tent, three 
 have fallen in the desert, their lance in their hand. They 
 point you the way ; they understood the divine saying, ' Let 
 them therefore fight for the religion of God who part with 
 the present life for that which is to come ; for whosoever fight- 
 eth for the religion of God, whether he be slain or be victo- 
 rious, we will surely give him a great reward. The provision 
 of this life is but small ; but the future shall be better for him 
 whofearethGod/" 
 
 Have you seen the war-horse pawing the earth and snuffing 
 the wind at the sound of the trumpet ? Such was Abdallah 
 when Hafiz talked to him of battle ; his heart throbbed, his 
 eyes grew dim, and his face flushed. " Oh God !" he cried, 
 " grant that it may soon be my time ; permit me to crush the 
 infidel, and make me worthy of the people from which I have 
 sprung !" 
 
 The child of the desert was beautiful indeed in his long 
 blue robe, confined at the waist by a leather thong passed 
 half a score of times around his body. His thick brown hair 
 shaded his face, and fell in curls upon his neck from under 
 his hood. His eyes sparkled with a softer light than the 
 planets that twinkle in the heavens, as, holding in his hand a 
 shining lance, wound round with silver thread, he walked slow- 
 ly, with the grace of a child and the dignity of a man, speaking 
 
 * The sorgho, the principal cereal of the East Indians and the Arabs, which they use 
 like maize and rice. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 229 
 
 only when necessary and never laughing. When he returned 
 from the pasture, carrying the young lambs in the skirt of his 
 robe, while the sheep followed him bleating and rubbing their 
 heads against his hand, the shepherds, his companions, stop- 
 ped to see him pass, and he seemed like Joseph adored by 
 the eleven stars. And at evening, when he raised the stone 
 from the common well with a strength above his age and wa- 
 tered the flocks, the women forgot to fill their pitchers, and 
 cried, " He is as handsome as his father !" to which the men 
 responded, " And he will also be as brave." 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE RECOGNITION. 
 
 TIME had rolled onward since the day that Halima had 
 carried the son of the wealthy Mansour to her tent. Omar 
 was fifteen years old, and was still unacquainted with the 
 secret of his birth. The rude jests of his companions had 
 more than once made him feel that he was not a Beni Amur, 
 and that the blood in his veins was not so pure as that of 
 Abdallah ; but, although he was called Omar, the little mer- 
 chant, no one in the tribe knew who was the Egyptian's fa- 
 ther, and he himself believed that he was an orphan, adopted 
 by Halima's goodness, and destined to live in the desert. 
 
 One evening, as the brothers were returning from the fields, 
 they were surprised to see several richly-caparisoned camels 
 at the door of the tent, together with a mule covered with a 
 rich carpet and held by a negro dressed in white. 
 
 "Whose mule is this," said Omar, " and what has it brought ?" 
 
 " It is your father's," answered the slave, who easily recog- 
 nized Mansour's son by his features ; " we have come for you 
 from Djiddah." 
 
 "Who is my father?" asked the Egyptian, greatly moved. 
 
230 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Your father," returned the negro, " is the rich Mansour, 
 the syndic of the Djiddah merchants, and the sultan of the 
 sons of Egypt. There is not a bale of goods, great or small, 
 that comes into the harbor or goes out of the three city gates 
 that is not first offered to him for his disposal. At Yambo, 
 Suez, Khartoom, and Cairo, your father's warehouses are kept 
 by his numerous slaves ; and so great is his fortune that his 
 servants never consult him about any business involving less 
 than a hundred thousand piastres." 
 
 " Oh, my father, where are you ?" cried the young man, 
 rushing into the tent. " Praised be God, who has given me 
 a father so worthy of my love !" And he threw himself into 
 Mansour's arms with an ardor that delighted the old mer- 
 chant and called forth a sigh from Haliina. 
 
 Early the next morning they set out for Djiddah, to the 
 great sorrow of the Bedouin woman, who could not bear to 
 separate from the child whom she alone had cherished for so 
 many years. " Adieu, my son, and dearer than my son," said 
 she, covering him with tears and caresses. Omar was more 
 courageous ; he quitted his mother with the joy of a captive 
 who at once regains freedom and fortune. Abdallah accom- 
 panied his brother to the city by the wish of Mansour. To 
 show the Bedouin how far the consideration attached to 
 wealth in a city like Djiddah raised a merchant above the 
 shepherds of the desert, and to make him feel that his mother 
 and he should esteem themselves too happy in having loved 
 and served Omar for fifteen years, was Mansour's fashion of 
 paying his debt of gratitude. The rich leave their folly and 
 vanity only beyond the tomb. 
 
 No sooner had they reached Djiddah than Omar broke 
 forth into transports of joy. He was an exile returning to 
 his native land. Every thing charmed him : the narrow 
 streets, with their great stone houses ; the port, where the 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 231 
 
 ships were unloading casks of sugar, sacks of coffee, and bales 
 of cotton ; and the motley crowd that was thronging toward 
 the bazar. Turks, Syrians, Greeks, Arabs, Persians, East In- 
 dians, blacks of every shade ; Jews, pilgrims, dervishes, beg-, 
 gars ; Nile merchants mounted on beautifully -caparisoned 
 mules ; donkey-drivers leading women enveloped in great 
 black mantles, and looking like phantoms of which naught 
 was visible but the eyes ; camel-drivers shouting to the crowd 
 to open a passage ; Arnauts with an audacious and threaten- 
 ing air, proud of their Damascus weapons and flowing fusta- 
 nella ; peaceful smokers seated with crossed legs at the doors 
 of the coffee-houses; slaves led to market all this was to 
 Omar a Paradise more enchanting than any of which he had 
 ever dreamed. In such an abode, what could not be bought 
 and what could not be sold ? Had he not learned the price 
 of all manner of things from his father on the road ? Did he 
 not already know how to rate the integrity of a cadi, the scru> 
 pies of a sheik, and even the conscience of a pacha ? 
 
 At the end of a narrow and gloomy alley stood the house 
 of Mansour. There was nothing about the building calcula- 
 ted to attract attention ; the ground floor was bare and unin- 
 viting, and furnished only with a few rush mats along the white- 
 washed walls ; but on ascending to the next story, which was 
 carefully closed, and furnished with blinds that defied both 
 the sun and curiosity, magnificent rooms met the eye, covered 
 with Turkey carpets, and surrounded with velvet divans em- 
 broidered with silver. The travelers were scarcely seated 
 when a chased silver salver was brought them, loaded with jel- 
 lied fruits. While one slave poured rose-water on Abdallah's 
 bronzed hands, and presented him a napkin fringed with gold, 
 another burned incense before old Mansour, who stroked his 
 beard and clothes to impregnate them with the fragrant smoke ; 
 coffee was then served in tiny porcelain cups, set in stands 
 
232 Fairy Book. 
 
 of gold filigree-work, after which exquisite sherbets, prepared 
 from the extract of violets and the juice of pomegranates ex- 
 pressed through the rind, were offered them. Lastly, three 
 little negroes, dressed in scarlet and covered with bracelets 
 and necklaces, lighted long jasmine pipes and presented one 
 to each guest, then all three seated themselves on the ground, 
 attentive and silent. 
 
 They smoked long without speaking. Mansqur was enjoy- 
 ing the delight which he saw in his son and the admiration 
 which he supposed in the Arab. But the Bedouin's face did 
 not change ; amid all this luxury he was as grave and tranquil 
 as if in the midst of his flocks. What are the luxuries of this 
 world to him who expects the lasting rewards which God has 
 in store for the faithful ! 
 
 " Well, my son," said old Mansour at last, turning toward 
 Abdallah, " are you content with your journey?" 
 
 " Father," replied the young man, " I thank you for your 
 hospitality. Your heart is even richer than your treasure." 
 
 " Well, well," returned the merchant ; " but what I want to 
 know is what you think of Djiddah? Would you like to stay 
 with us ?" 
 
 " No. The city is tainted ; the air is pestilential, the water 
 impure. Then those idle dervishes, displaying to all eyes 
 their impudence and their covetousness, and those slaves who 
 stand there to deprive us of the use of our hands, and who spy 
 out our passions to serve them ! Huzza, for the desert ! Our 
 terrible winds are sweeter to me than the hot, heavy air of this 
 prison. Among the tents there are none but men. Each one 
 rights himself, lance in hand. The dog that begs through 
 cowardice is thrust out ; the haughty, who know not how to 
 respect those better than themselves, are humbled." 
 
 " Your words are golden, my son," said Mansour, running 
 his fingers through his long beard ; " a Wahabite could not be 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 233 
 
 more austere. I thought like you when I was a child and re- 
 cited my nurse's lessons. Stay with us for a time ; become a 
 merchant ; when you see how fortune invests the vilest of men 
 with authority, youth, and virtue, how the powerful of the day, 
 the women, and even the saints fall down and worship the 
 metal which you despise, you will change your mind, and pre- 
 fer even the unsavory odor of cities. It is beautiful to live 
 like the lark, free in space ; but sooner or later all are snared 
 like it. The douro is the king of the world, and the day 
 comes when the bravest, like the wisest, is the servant of the 
 richest." 
 
 " I know," returned Abdallah, proudly, " that nothing satis- 
 fies the sons of Adam ; the dust of the grave alone has pow- 
 er to fill their bellies ; but in the desert, at least, an ounce of 
 honor is worth more than a hundred weight of gold. With 
 God's aid, I will live like my ancestors. He who desires 
 naught will always be free. Farewell, therefore, Mansour; 
 farewell, my brother. To-day our roads part ; may that which 
 you take lead you to the end which all the faithful should de- 
 sire !" 
 
 . "Farewell, my good Abdallah," answered Omar. "Each 
 of us follows his destiny. What is written is written : you were 
 born to dwell among the tents, and I to be a merchant. Fare- 
 well ; I shall never forget the friendship of my childhood j if 
 ever I am in need of a stout arm, be sure that I shall have re- 
 course to you." 
 
 " Thanks, my brother," cried the Bedouin ; and, taking Omar 
 in his arms, he pressed him tenderly to his heart, without re- 
 straining or hiding his tears. 
 
 Omar tranquilly received these proofs of friendship, and 
 when Abdallah, with drooping head and dejected mien, had 
 quitted the house after more than once looking back, " Say," 
 said he to his father, " what can you have been thinking of, to 
 
234 Fairy Book. 
 
 leave me so long with that Bedouin ? Suppose you had died, 
 and I had appeared to claim your inheritance, the old men of 
 the city would have said, ' We have known Mansour all our 
 lives, and have never heard of his having either son or daugh- 
 ter,' and then who would have been your heir if not the pacha ? 
 Carry me quickly to the bazar, introduce me to all your friends, 
 the merchants, and, above all, make me your partner, and give 
 me a warehouse of my own. I feel an uncontrollable desire 
 to handle gold. I have already learned to calculate among 
 the tents, and know how to treat men in order to gain much 
 and risk little. You shall not blush for your son." 
 
 " My child," cried Mansour, raising his trembling hands to 
 heaven, " wisdom speaks through your mouth ; but the day is 
 too far advanced to go out, and, besides, your dress is not 
 suitable. To-morrow we will go to the bazar ; to-morrow all 
 Djiddah shall know my glory and happiness." 
 
 All night Omar dreamed of gold and silver ; all night Man- 
 sour tossed on his bed, unable to close his eyes : he saw him- 
 self born anew in a son shrewder, more cunning, more covet- 
 ous, and more avaricious than himself. " Ah !" he exclaimed, 
 in his joy, " I am the happiest of fathers. The dervish did 
 not deceive me : if my son escapes the peril that threatens 
 him, who knows where the wealth of my house will stop ?" 
 
 Madman, thou forgettest that if gold is a blessing to him 
 that gives it, it is a poison to him that hoards it. He who 
 harbors avarice in his heart harbors there the enemy of man- 
 kind, and woe to him who chooses Satan for a companion ! 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 235 
 
 V. 
 
 THE NEW SOLOMON. 
 
 THE next morning at daybreak Mansour led his son to the 
 bath, and dressed him in a style befitting his new condition. A 
 silken robe, striped with bright colors, and confined round the 
 waist by a Cashmere girdle, a flowing caftan of the finest and 
 softest cloth, and a white embroidered cap, round which was 
 twisted a muslin turban such was the elegant costume 
 brought by the most fashionable tailor of Djiddah. In this 
 dress the features of the Egyptian seemed harsher and his 
 complexion more swarthy than ever. The tailor, however, 
 thought otherwise ; he did nothing but praise the beauty and 
 grace of Omar, and pity the ladies of the city who should look 
 with indifference on his countenance, more beautiful than the 
 moon at its full. When nothing more remained of the Bed- 
 ouin of the day before, breakfast was served and sherbet 
 brought in then, after sundry counsels from old Mansour, 
 Omar, mounted on a mule, and modestly falling behind his 
 father, took the way with him to the bazar. 
 
 The Egyptian led his son to a shop which was narrow, like 
 all in the market, but crowded with precious articles. Shawls 
 from India, satins and brocades from China, carpets from Bas- 
 sora, yataghans in their chased silver scabbards, pipes mount- 
 ed with amber and adorned with rubies, rosaries of black 
 coral, necklaces of sequins and pearls, all that could seduce 
 women, all that could ruin men, was found in this warehouse 
 of perdition. A stone bench ran before the shop. Mansour 
 seated himself on the cushions and lighted his pipe ; Omar 
 took his beads and began to recite his prayers, without look- 
 ing at the crowd. 
 
 As soon as the merchants perceived the syndic, they rose 
 
236 Fairy Book. 
 
 in a body, and went to repeat the Fat-hah, and to wish him 
 good-morning. Every one looked with surprise at the new- 
 comer, and asked his neighbor in a whisper who the stranger 
 could be whether a relative of the Egyptian, or a young slave 
 richly dressed in order to draw customers. Mansour called 
 to the sheik, and, pointing to Omar, " This is my son," said 
 he " my partner and successor." 
 
 " Your son !" exclaimed the sheik. " Who ever heard that 
 the rich Mansour had an heir ?" 
 
 " I wished to deceive the evil eye," replied the old man ; 
 " this is why I have had my son brought up at a distance and 
 in secret. I did not intend to present him to you till his 
 beard was grown; but I was getting old; I became im- 
 patient ; and to-day, with your permission, I shall place him 
 in the bazar to learn of you the art of buying and sell- 
 ing." 
 
 " Mansour is always wise," replied the merchants, as they 
 vied with each other in congratulating the happy father of 
 such a son. "May the Lord," they exclaimed, "preserve 
 both root and branch !" 
 
 In the midst of these wishes, which tickled the Egyptian's 
 pride, the sheik took up the conversation. " Among us," said 
 he to Mansour, " when a son or daughter is born, even the 
 poor man invites his friends to rejoice with him ; have you 
 forgotten us ?" 
 
 " Honor me with a visit this evening," replied the old man ; 
 "you shall be welcome." 
 
 An hour after, a messenger, carrying a huge bouquet, went 
 through the market offering a flower to each merchant, with 
 the words, " Recite the Fat-hah for the Prophet." The prayer 
 ended, " Mansour entreats you," added the messenger, " to 
 take coffee with him this evening at his house." 
 
 " Mansour is the prince of the generous," returned the in- 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 237 
 
 vited guest ; " with the blessing of God, we will pay our re- 
 spects this evening to the syndic." 
 
 At the appointed time, the Egyptian and his son received 
 the merchants in the little garden, where a splendid feast 
 awaited the guests. Lambs stuffed with almonds and pis- 
 tachio nuts, rice with saffron, cream sauces flavored with pep- 
 per, rose jellies, pastry of all kinds, nothing was spared to 
 honor guests of such consequence. For the first time Man- 
 sour desired that the poor should partake of his joy, and or- 
 dered the remains of the feast, with some small silver coin, to 
 be distributed among them before the door, which was enough 
 to fill the street with huzzahs and blessings, and to cause the 
 name of the generous Omar and the rich Mansour to resound 
 from one end of Djiddah to the other. 
 
 Coffee served and the pipes lighted, the sheik took Omar 
 by the hand : " Behold our friend's son," said he to the mer- 
 chants, "who desires to enter our honorable company. I 
 beseech each one to recite the Fat-hah for the Prophet." 
 
 While the prayer was being three times repeated, the sheik 
 wound a shawl round Omar's waist, tying a knot after each 
 Fat-hah. The ceremony finished, the young man kissed the 
 hand of the sheik and the other spectators, beginning with the 
 eldest. His eyes sparkled with joy. He was a Djiddah mer- 
 chant ; he was rich ; the world was opening before him. 
 
 The rest of the evening was passed in conversation, all 
 bearing upon trade. Omar did not open his lips ; he stood 
 near the elders of the party, who did not weary of talking to 
 a young man who listened with such attention and respect. 
 They told him how a good salesman should always ask four 
 times the value of the article haggled for, and should never 
 lose his coolness, which is the secret of the trade. Trading 
 is like trout-fishing ; it is necessary to draw on the customer 
 and give him line till, wearied and dazzled, he at length knows 
 
238 Fairy Book. 
 
 no longer how to defend himself. To toy with a rosary, offer 
 coffee or a pipe, talk of indifferent things, preserve an un- 
 moved countenance, and yet kindle desire in the soul of the 
 purchaser, is a difficult act, not to be learned in a day. " But," 
 they added, caressing Omar, " you are in a good school, my 
 son ; neither Jew nor even Armenian can overreach the wise 
 Mansour." 
 
 " Is commerce nothing more than this ?" said the young 
 man in his heart ; " in that case I have no need of these peo- 
 ple. To think only and always of one's self, and to make 
 use of the passions or weaknesses of others to strip fools of 
 the wealth they dote on I have known this from my birth ; 
 I did nothing else in the desert ; my masters will be shrewd, 
 indeed, if, before six months are past, I do not give them a 
 lesson." 
 
 A few days after, Mansour repaired to the cadi on account 
 of a suit, the issue of which troubled him but little. A private 
 conversation with the judge had given him hopes of the justice 
 of his cause. The old man asked his son to accompany him, 
 in order to accustom him early to deal with the law. The cadi 
 was seated in the court-yard of the mosque. He was a fat, 
 good-looking man, who never thought, and talked little, which, 
 added to his large turban and his air of perpetual astonish- 
 ment, gave him a great reputation for justice and gravity. 
 The spectators were numerous ; the principal merchants were 
 seated on the ground on carpets, forming a semicircle around 
 the magistrate. Mansour took his seat a little way from the 
 sheik, and Omar placed himself between the two, his curios- 
 ity strongly excited to see how the law was obeyed, and how 
 it was trifled with in case of need. 
 
 The first case called was that of a young Banian, as 
 yellow as an orange, with loose-flowing robes and an effem- 
 inate air, who had lately landed from India, and who com- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 239 
 
 plained of having been cheated by one of Mansour's ri- 
 vals. 
 
 " Having found a casket full of diamonds among the effects 
 bequeathed to me by my father at Delhi," said the young 
 man, " I set out for Egypt in order to live there in opulence 
 on the proceeds of their sale. I was obliged by bad weather 
 to put in at Djiddah, where I was retained by the pleasures 
 of the city, and soon found myself in want of money. I 
 was assured that, if I wished to dispose of my diamonds, I 
 should find a good market here. I went to the bazar, and' 
 inquired for a dealer in precious stones. The richest, I was 
 told, was Mansour, the most honest was Ali the jeweler. I 
 applied to the latter. As soon as he learned the object of 
 my visit, he welcomed me like a son, and, refusing to talk of 
 business at the bazar, carried me home with him. For sev- 
 eral days he treated me in the most generous manner, gained 
 my confidence by every kind of attention, and advanced me 
 all the money I needed. One day, after dinner, when I was 
 not quite sober, he asked me for the casket, examined the di- 
 amonds one by one, and said, with feigned pity, ' My child, 
 these stones are of little value in Arabia and Egypt. The 
 rocks of our desert furnish them by thousands ; my coffers 
 are full of them.' To prove the truth of what he said, he 
 opened a box, and, taking therefrom a diamond thrice as large 
 as any of mine, gave it to the slave that was with me. 
 
 " ' What will become of me !' I cried. ' I have no other 
 fortune ; I thought myself rich, and here I am poor, a stranger, 
 and far from my family and country.' 
 
 " ' My child,' replied the treacherous jeweler, ' I conceived 
 a friendship for you at first sight. A Mussulman never for- 
 sakes his friends in trouble. Leave this casket with me, and, 
 to oblige you, I will give you a price for it such as no one else 
 would offer. Choose whatever you wish in Djiddah gold, 
 
240 Fairy Book. 
 
 silver, or coral and in two hours I promise to give you an 
 equal weight of what you have chosen in exchange for your 
 Indian stones.' 
 
 " On returning home, night brought reflection. I made in- 
 quiries, and soon learned that Ali had been fooling me. What 
 he had given to the slave was nothing but a bit of crystal. 
 Diamonds are scarcer at Djiddah than in India, and are worth 
 ten times their weight in gold. I demanded my casket. Ali 
 refused to restore it. Venerable magistrate, my sole hope is 
 in your justice. I entreat you to espouse the cause of a 
 stranger, and may the wretch who has ruined me drink boil- 
 ing water for all eternity !" 
 
 It was Ali's turn to speak. " Illustrious servant of God," 
 said he to the cadi, " this young man's story is true in but one 
 particular, namely, that we have made a bargain, and that I 
 am ready to keep it. All the rest is of his own invention. 
 What matters it what I gave the slave ; could a sensible man 
 have seen in it any thing else than a jest ? Did I force the 
 stranger to leave his casket in my hands? .Was it my fault 
 if want of money made him accept my conditions ? Why does 
 he accuse me of treachery ? Have I broken my word, and has 
 he kept his?" 
 
 " Young man," said the cadi to the Banian, " have you wit- 
 nesses to prove that Ali deceived you as to the value of your 
 merchandise ? If not, I shall put the accused on his oath, as 
 the law decrees." 
 
 A Koran was brought. Ali placed his right hand on the 
 sacred book, and repeated three times, " In the name of God 
 the Omnipotent, and by the word of God that is contained in 
 this book, I swear that I have not deceived this stranger. I 
 swear it here to-day," he added, turning toward the assembly, 
 " as I shall swear it on the judgment-day before God as cadi, 
 with the angels for witnesses." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 241 
 
 " Wretch," said the Banian, " thou art among those whose 
 feet go down to destruction. Thou hast thrown away thy 
 soul." 
 
 " That may be," whispered the sheik to Omar, " but he has 
 gained a huge fortune. This Ali is a shrewd knave." 
 
 " He is no ordinary man," added Mansour. " This may be 
 called a game well played." 
 
 Omar smiled, and, while Ali was enjoying the success of his 
 ruse, he approached the stranger, who burst into tears. 
 
 " Do you wish me to help you to gain the suit ?" asked he.- 
 
 " Yes," cried the East Indian ; " confound this wretch, and 
 you may ask of me what you will. But you are only a child ; 
 you can do nothing." 
 
 " I only ask you to have confidence in me for a few mo- 
 ments," returned the Egyptian. " Accept Ali's bargain ; let 
 me choose in your stead, and fear nothing." 
 
 " What can I fear after having lost all ?" murmured the 
 stranger, letting his head fall again on his bosom like a man 
 bereft of all hope. Nevertheless, he turned to the cadi, and, 
 bowing respectfully, " Oh, my lord, and master," said he, " thy 
 slave implores a last favor of thy mercy ; let the bargain be 
 consummated, since the law decrees it, but permit this young 
 man to choose in my stead what I shall receive in payment." 
 
 A profound silence ensued. Omar rose, and, bowing to 
 the cadi, "Ali," said he to the jeweler, "you have doubtless 
 brought the casket, and can tell us the weight thereof?" 
 
 " Here it is," said the merchant ; " it weighs twenty pounds. 
 Choose what you will, I repeat ; if the thing asked for is to be 
 found in Djiddah, you shall have it within two hours, other- 
 wise the bargain is null and void. All know that my word is 
 sacred, and that I never break it." 
 
 " What we desire," said Omar, raising his voice, " is ants' 
 wings, half male and half female. You have two hours in 
 
 L 
 
242 Fairy Book. 
 
 which to furnish the twenty pounds you have promised 
 us." 
 
 "This is absurd," cried the jeweler; "it is impossible. I 
 should need half a score of persons and six months' labor to 
 satisfy this foolish demand. It is trifling with justice to in- 
 troduce these childish caprices into this place." 
 
 " Are there any winged ants in Djiddah?" asked the cadi. 
 
 "Of course," answered the merchants, laughing ; "they are 
 one of the plagues of Egypt. Our houses are full of them, 
 and it would be doing us a great service to rid us of them." 
 
 " Then Ali must keep his promise or give back the casket," 
 said the cadi. "This young man was mad to sell his dia- 
 monds weight for weight ; he is mad to exact such a payment. 
 So much the better for Ali the first time ; so much the worse 
 for him the second. Justice has not two weights and meas- 
 ures. Every bargain holds good before the law. Either fur- 
 nish twenty pounds of ants' wings, or restore the casket to the 
 Banian." 
 
 "A righteous judgment," shouted the spectators, wonder- 
 struck at such equity. 
 
 The stranger, beside himself with joy, embraced Omar, call- 
 ing him his savior and master ; nor did he stop there : taking 
 from the casket three diamonds of the finest water, as large as 
 nightingale's eggs, he forced them on Omar, who put them in 
 his girdle, respectfully kissed the Banian's right hand, and 
 seated himself by his father, his gravity unmoved by the gaze 
 of the assembly. 
 
 " Well done, my friend," said Mansour ; " but Ali is a nov- 
 ice ; had he not neglected the cadi he would have gained his 
 suit. It is my turn now ; mark me well, and profit by the les- 
 son I shall give you. Stop, young man !" he cried to the East 
 Indian, who was carrying off the diamonds, " we have an ac- 
 count to settle. I entreat the illustrious cadi to keep this 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 243 
 
 casket for a moment ; there may be those here who have a 
 better right to it than either this stranger or the prudent Ali." 
 
 There was universal surprise among the spectators, and all 
 listened to the new claimant. 
 
 " The day before yesterday," said Mansour, " a veiled lady 
 entered my shop in the bazar and asked to look at some 
 necklaces. Nothing that I showed her pleased her taste, and 
 she was about to leave the shop, when she spied a sealed box 
 in a corner, and entreated me to open it. This box contained 
 a set of topazes which were no longer at my disposal, having 
 been already sold to the Pacha of Egypt. I told the lady this, 
 but she insisted on at least seeing the gift destined for a 
 sultana. A woman's wish is a thing not easily thwarted. 
 There are three kinds of obstinacy that are irresistible that 
 of princes, of children, and of women. I was so weak as to 
 yield. The stranger looked at the necklace, tried it on, and 
 declared that she would have it at any price. On my refusal, 
 she quitted the bazar, loading me with threats and maledic- 
 tions. An hour after, this young man entered my shop, and, 
 bursting into tears, kissed my hand and entreated me to sell 
 him the necklace, saying that his own life and that of the lady 
 depended on it. ' Ask of me what you will, my father,' said 
 he, 'but I must have these gems or die.' I have a weakness 
 for young men, and, though I knew the danger of disappoint 
 ing my master the pacha, I was unable to resist his supplica- 
 tions. ' Take the topazes,' said I to the stranger, ' but prom- 
 ise to give whatever I may ask in exchange.' ' My head itself, 
 if you will, for you have saved my life,' he replied, as he 
 carried off the necklace. We were without witnesses," add- 
 ed Mansour, turning to the Banian, "but is not my story 
 true?" 
 
 " Yes," said the young man, " and I beg your pardon for 
 not having satisfied you sooner : you know the cause. Now 
 
244 Fairy Book. 
 
 that I have recovered my fortune, thanks to your son, ask of 
 me what you desire." 
 
 " What I desire," said Mansour, nodding to the pacha, who 
 was gazing fixedly at a palm-tree, " what I desire is this casket 
 with all its contents. It is not too much for a man who risks 
 his life by disobeying the pacha. Illustrious magistrate, your 
 excellency has declared that all bargains hold good before the 
 law : this young man has promised to give me what I please ; 
 now I declare that nothing pleases me but these diamonds." 
 
 The cadi raised his head and looked about the assembly as 
 if to interrogate the faces, then stroked his beard and relapsed 
 into his meditations. 
 
 " AH is defeated," said the sheik to Omar, with a smile. 
 " The fox is not yet born more cunning than the worthy Man- 
 sour." 
 
 " I am lost !" cried the Banian. " Oh, Omar, have you 
 saved me only to cast me down from the highest pinnacle of 
 joy to the depths of despair ? Persuade your father to spare 
 me, that I may owe my life to you a second time." 
 
 " Well, my son," said Mansour, " doubtless you are shrewd, 
 but this will teach you that your father knows rather more 
 than you do. The cadi is about to decide : try whether you 
 can dictate his decree." 
 
 "It is mere child's play," answered Omar, shrugging his 
 shoulders ; " but, since you desire it, my father, you shall lose 
 your suit." He rose, and, taking a piastre from his girdle, 
 put it into the hand of the Banian, who laid it before the 
 judge. 
 
 " Illustrious cadi," said he, "this young man is ready to ful- 
 fill his engagement. This is what he offers Mansour a pi- 
 astre. In itself, this coin is of little value ;* but examine it 
 closely, and you will see that it is stamped with the likeness 
 
 * About four cents. 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 245 
 
 of the sultan, our glorious master. May God destroy and con- 
 found all who disobey his highness ! It is this precious like- 
 ness that we offer you," added Omar, turning to Mansour ; "if 
 it pleases you, you are paid ; to dare to say that it displeases 
 you is an insult to the pacha, a crime punishable by death ; 
 and I am sure that our worthy cadi will not become your ac- 
 complice he who always has been and always will be the 
 faithful servant of all the sultans." 
 
 When Omar had finished speaking, all eyes turned toward 
 the cadi, who, more impenetrable than ever, stroked his face 
 and waited for the old man to come to his aid. Mansour 
 was agitated and embarrassed. The silence of the cadi and 
 the assembly terrified him, and he cast a supplicating glance 
 toward his son. 
 
 " My father," said Omar, " permit this young man to thank 
 you for the lesson of prudence which you have given him by 
 frightening him a little. He knows well that it was you who 
 sent me to his aid, and that all this is a farce. None is de- 
 ceived by hearing the son oppose the father, and who has 
 ever doubted Mansour's experience and generosity ?" 
 
 " No one," interrupted the cadi, starting up like a man sud- 
 denly awakened from a dream, " and I least of all ; and this 
 is why I have permitted you to speak, my young Solomon. I 
 wished to honor in you the wisdom of your father ; but an- 
 other time avoid meddling with his highness's name ; it is not 
 safe to sport with the lion's paws. The matter is settled. The 
 necklace is worth a hundred thousand piastres, is it not, Man- 
 sour ? This madcap shall give you, therefore, a hundred thou- 
 sand piastres, and all parties will be satisfied." 
 
 Despite his modesty, Omar could not escape the gratitude 
 of the East Indian or the praises of the merchants. The 
 former tried to force the casket into his hands ; and it was 
 impossible to prevent him from seizing the bridle of the mule 
 
246 Fairy Book. 
 
 that carried Omar, and accompanying to his door him whom 
 he styled the most generous and wisest of men. The mer- 
 chants, on their side, heaped congratulations on Mansour; 
 and the celebrated case which called forth the wisdom of him 
 whom the sagacious cadi styled the new Solomon is still talk- 
 ed of at Djiddah. 
 
 Once at home, Mansour broke forth into reproaches. " I 
 can not understand you, my son," said he. " I had a fortune 
 in my hands, and you have snatched it from me. Is this your 
 idea of business ? Is this the respect that you show your 
 father?" 
 
 " Have patience, my father," replied Omar, coldly. " To- 
 day I have made myself a reputation for prudence and prob- 
 ity. It is a noise that will be lasting, a first impression that 
 will never be effaced. Reputation is a jewel which nothing 
 can replace ; it is ten thousand times more valuable capital 
 than your diamonds. All distrust Mansour's cunning, but all 
 will confide, like this foreigner, in Omar's honesty and integ- 
 rity. The bait is thrown, the trout will not be long in com- 
 ing." 
 
 Mansour stood confounded. He had desired a son that 
 should be worthy of himself; he began to fear that Eblis had 
 granted his prayer too literally. He admired Omar indeed ; 
 such calculation at so tender an age could not but delight a 
 man whose whole life had been one of calculation. But 
 it must be confessed to the old man's shame this precocious 
 experience chilled his heart, and, to tell the truth, he stood 
 appalled before this sage of fifteen. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 247 
 
 VI. 
 
 VIRTUE REWARDED. 
 
 NOTHING was wanting to Mansour's happiness ; during the 
 five remaining years of his life the merchant could fully en- 
 joy the education and success of his son. He saw all his 
 trade pass into Omar's hands ; the wealth of his house be- 
 came enormous, and, as is always the case, public esteem 
 increased in proportion to wealth. How could Omar help 
 succeeding ? He had every thing in his favor ; an abundance 
 of money, few passions, and no scruples. None had ever 
 combined to such a degree what constitutes genius in busi- 
 ness love of gold and contempt of men. Mansour could 
 therefore breathe his last in peace. His life had been long, 
 disease had spared his old age, his dreams were realized, and 
 he was sure of leaving an heir behind him who would keep 
 and increase the fortune accumulated with such difficulty; 
 yet it is affirmed that the Egyptian died with his heart rilled 
 with rage, crying out that no one loved him, execrating his 
 folly, and trembling at the sight of his treasures, as if the gold, 
 heated in the infernal fire, already lay a burning weight on 
 his breast and brow. 
 
 Omar heard of his father's death with complete resigna- 
 tion. Business had called him away from his dying bed; 
 business was his consolation. His courage was worthy of ad- 
 miration ; a.t the mere sight of a piastre, he dried up his tears 
 and stifled his sorrow. 
 
 Left alone with so noble an inheritance, the son of Man- 
 sour set no bounds to his desires. Nothing escaped his 
 schemes ; it seemed as if from within his little house in Djid- 
 dah, like the spider in his web, he drew all the wealth of the 
 world into his invisible net. Rice and sugar from India; 
 
248 Fairy Book. 
 
 gum and coffee from Yemen ; ivory, gold dust, and slaves 
 from Abyssinia ; corn from Egypt ; tissues from Syria ; ships 
 and caravans all came to Omar. Yet never did man wel- 
 come good fortune more modestly. To see him in the street 
 in his rusty clothes and scanty turban, his eyes cast down, 
 telling his wooden beads with his fingers, he would not have 
 been thought worth twenty thousand piastres. Nothing be- 
 trayed the rich man in his conversation j he was familiar with 
 his inferiors, free and easy with his equals, cringing toward 
 those from whom he hoped for any thing, and respectful to- 
 ward those who had it in their power to do him an injury. 
 According to him, it was a great mistake to attribute to him a 
 large fortune ; all this merchandise was not his property, but 
 consignments from foreign correspondents who had confi- 
 dence in him a confidence which must have cost him dear, 
 for he constantly complained of losing money. If he bought 
 the handsomest slaves, the richest perfumes, the choicest to- 
 bacco, and the rarest stuffs, it was always for some pacha or 
 foreign trader. It was whispered that these treasures never 
 left the Egyptian's house who can silence men's tongues ? 
 but nothing certain was known. Omar had no friends, trans- 
 acted his business at the bazar, and received no visits. Wheth- 
 er he was poor or rich, a sage or an egotist, humble or hypo- 
 critical, was the secret of Satan. 
 
 His prudence was on a par with his modesty. Beginning 
 with the pacha and ending with the collector of customs, there 
 was not an officer at Djiddah, great or small, with whose pipe- 
 bearer, groom, or favorite slave Omar was not acquainted. 
 He was not fond of giving, and often repeated the maxim of 
 the Koran that prodigals are the brethren of Satan, but he 
 knew how to open his hand at the right time, and no one 
 ever repented a service rendered this honest man. Pachas 
 pass away quickly at Djiddah ; the hand of the Turk is heavy, 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 249 
 
 and the richest merchants were often forced to pay a ransom. 
 The son of Mansour alone escaped these loans, which are 
 never repaid. Within a week, by one means or another, he 
 was the friend, it was even said the banker, of the new govern- 
 or, and the storm which had threatened him always burst on 
 other heads than his, so that he was an object of astonish- 
 ment and envy to all his brethren. 
 
 The day came, however, when his star paled. A pacha, 
 who had made a fortune in three months in rather too obvi- 
 ous a manner, was recalled to Constantinople, and his success- 
 or received orders to be an honest man, the government be- 
 ing anxious to please the Franks, of whom, unhappily, it stood 
 in need, and who were raising a great outcry. Turk as he 
 was, the new pacha understood how to give satisfaction in 
 high places. The day after his arrival, he went in disguise to 
 buy provisions of the chief butcher and baker in Djiddah. 
 The mohtesib, or inspector of the market, was forewarned, and 
 was ready in the street, with his clerks and great scales, to 
 weigh what the pacha had just bought. The twelve pounds 
 of bread fell short two ounces, and the huge quarter of mut- 
 ton one ounce. The crime was a flagrant one, and the of- 
 fenders were speedily brought to justice. The pacha over- 
 whelmed the wretches who fattened on the sweat of the peo- 
 ple with abuse and reproaches, and, in his just anger, refused 
 to listen to their defense, but ordered them to be instantly 
 stripped, bound, and bastinadoed, after which, by express com- 
 mand, the baker was nailed by the ear to his shop door, and 
 the butcher was fastened to one of the windows of the great 
 mosque, after having his nose pierced with an iron wire, from 
 which the ounce of meat which he had stolen was suspended. 
 The populace heaped every species of outrage upon the two 
 unfortunates ; God was glorified throughout the whole city, 
 the pacha was styled the friend of the people, the lover of 
 
 L2 
 
250 Fairy Book. 
 
 justice, and the new Haroun Al-Raschid ; and the story of 
 this virtuous deed, after rejoicing the sultan, spread to the 
 West, to the confusion and despair of the infidels. 
 
 The same evening several of the merchants freighted a 
 ship for Egypt, having suddenly learned that their presence 
 was needed at Cairo. Omar, instead of giving way to terror, 
 calmly stroked his beard. " Virtue is a kind of merchandise 
 not in the market," thought he ; " when it is needed, therefore, 
 it must be bought dear." Whereupon he repaired to the ba- 
 zar, chanced to meet the pacha's secretary, made him sit down 
 beside him, and offered him a pipe by mistake that had been 
 designed for the sultan. 
 
 " It is always bad policy to do justice to the people," said 
 Omar to the secretary ; " once led into bad habits, they grow 
 exacting. It is a death-blow to large speculations." The 
 secretary gazed at his magnificent pipe, and thought Omar a 
 man of sense. 
 
 Alas! the Egyptian had judged but too rightly. The first 
 market-day grain was found to have risen two piastres an 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 251 
 
 ardeb.* The populace became excited ; two men especially 
 talked with extreme vehemence the butcher whose nose had 
 been slit and the one-eared baker. The cheats of yesterday 
 had become the heroes of to-day ; they were pitied as vic- 
 tims, and the more they clamored, the more they were ad- 
 mired. 
 
 From word to deed there is but a step among the populace. 
 The mob was already attempting to burst open Omar's house 
 when the chief of the police, surrounded by soldiers, came to 
 summon the merchant before the pacha. Omar received the 
 officer with an emotion that may be easily understood, and 
 fervently glued his lips to his hand ; but the chief of the police 
 hastily withdrew it, and thrust it clenched into his girdle, as if 
 polluted by the kiss of a criminal. Nevertheless, he neither 
 abused nor maltreated the son of Mansour, to the great dis- 
 pleasure of the populace, which loves justice, and is not sorry 
 to see a man accused of crime treated as though convicted of 
 it, especially when he is rich ; on the contrary, the chief of the 
 police more than once urged the prisoner to rely on the equity 
 of the governor. 
 
 " What is written is written," replied the Egyptian, telling 
 his beads one by one. 
 
 The doors of the palace were open, and the people throng- 
 ed into the court-yard, where the pacha sat, grave and impas- 
 sive, calming the turbulent passions around him by his pres- 
 ence. The two accusers were brought forward ; the governor 
 commanded them to speak without fear. " Justice for all is 
 my duty," said he, aloud ; " rich or poor, no plunderer shall 
 find grace in my sight." 
 
 "God is great and the pacha is just," cried the crowd; 
 whereupon four merchants, quaking with fear, were thrust be- 
 fore the tribunal, all of whom kissed the Koran, and swore 
 
 * About five bushels. 
 
252 Fairy Book. 
 
 that Omar had bought from them all the corn imported from 
 Egypt. 
 
 " Death ! death !" cried the people. The pacha made a sign 
 that the accused should be heard, and silence ensued. 
 
 " Oh, my lord and master," cried Omar, prostrating his fore- 
 head on the earth, " your slave places his head in your hands. 
 God loves those who show mercy ; the meaner the culprit, the 
 more noble is it not to crush him. Solomon himself spared 
 the ant. It is true that I have bought a few cargoes of corn 
 in the harbor of Djiddah, as any honest merchant may do ; 
 but all here, except my enemies, know that the purchase was 
 made for my master the sultan. This corn is designed for the 
 troops posted by your highness on the road to Mecca for the 
 protection of the pilgrims ; so, at least, I was told by your 
 highness's secretary, when he gave me the money in your 
 name, which a poor man like me was not able to advance. 
 May my master pardon me for delaying so long to send him 
 the thousand ardebs of corn that he ordered : the chief of the 
 police will tell your highness that force alone has prevented 
 me from obeying him." 
 
 " What do you mean by a thousand ardebs of corn ?" asked 
 the governor, fiercely. 
 
 " Forgive me, my lord," returned Omar, in an agitated voice, 
 " I am so much troubled that it is difficult for me to reckon 
 correctly. I believe that it was fifteen hundred," he added, 
 gazing at the contracted features of the pacha, " if not, indeed, 
 two thousand." 
 
 " It was three thousand," said the secretary, handing a pa- 
 per to the governor. " Here is the order given to this man, 
 in my own hand-writing, under the seal of your highness." 
 
 " And has the merchant received the money ?" asked the 
 pacha, in a softened tone. 
 
 " Yes, your excellency," replied Omar, bowing anew. " The 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 253 
 
 chief of the police, here present, will tell you that he transmit- 
 ted this order to me, and your highness's secretary advanced 
 me yesterday the two hundred thousand piastres which I 
 needed for the purchase. I am therefore responsible to the 
 pacha for two hundred thousand piastres or three thousand 
 ardebs of corn." 
 
 " Then what is all this noise about ?" exclaimed the pacha, 
 looking savagely at the two frightened accusers. " Is this the 
 respect you pay my master the sultan ? Are the .soldiers who 
 protect the holy pilgrims to die of famine in the desert? 
 Seize these two knaves, and give each of them thirty strokes 
 of the bastinado. Justice for all, and no grace for false wit- 
 nesses. To accuse an innocent man is to rob him of more 
 than life." 
 
 "Well said," cried the multitude ; "the pacha is right." 
 The sentence pronounced, the butcher was seized by four 
 soldiers, who did not scruple to do justice in their own cause. 
 A running noose was passed round the prisoner's ankles and 
 fastened to a stake, after which one of the Arnauts, armed 
 with a stick, beat the soles of his feet with all his might. The 
 butcher was a hero in his way ; he counted the strokes one by 
 one, and, the punishment being ended, was carried off by his 
 friends, casting furious glances at Omar. The slit-eared man 
 was less resolute ; at every blow he uttered Allah ! with a 
 groan that might have melted a heart of stone. At the twelfth 
 stroke Omar kissed the ground before the pacha and entreat- 
 ed pardon for the culprit, which was graciously granted. This 
 was not all ; he slipped a douro into the wounded man's hand 
 before all the people, and declared that he had thirty ardebs 
 of corn left, which should be divided among the poor, then 
 returned home amid the blessings of those very persons who, 
 an hour before, were ready to tear him to pieces. Praises or 
 threats, he received both with the same humility or the same 
 
254 Fairy Book. 
 
 indifference. " Allah be praised !" said he, on entering his 
 house. " The pacha drove rather a hard bargain, but now I 
 have him in my hands." 
 
 Tranquil in this respect, the son of Mansour resumed his 
 ingenious schemes. Thanks to him, the wealth of Djiddah 
 increased daily. One morning, on waking, the slave-dealers 
 learned with joy that the price of their merchandise had 
 doubled. Unfortunately, they had sold all they had the day 
 before to Omar, to fill an order from Egypt. The next month 
 it was rice, then tobacco, wax, coffee, sugar, and gold dust. 
 Every thing rose in value ; but Omar's correspondents were 
 always the ones that profited by this sudden rise. In this 
 manner Djiddah became an opulent market, so wealthy, in- 
 deed, that the poor could no longer live there, though the rich 
 acquired fortunes by buying the good graces of the Egyptian. 
 
 As to him, seated every day at his counter, more honeyed 
 than ever to those of whom he had need, he passed the hours 
 in counting on his beads the millions of piastres that he accu- 
 mulated in all directions. He said to himself in his heart 
 that, despised as he was, he was the master of men, and that, 
 should he need the assistance of the sultan, he was rich enough 
 to buy him and his seraglio in the bargain. 
 
 Men do not grow rich with impunity. It is as impossible 
 to hide fortune as smoke. Despite all his humility, Omar re- 
 ceived an invitation from the grand sherif of Mecca to repair 
 to Taif for an important service, which he alone, it was said, 
 could render the descendant of the Prophet. The merchant 
 was less elated by the honor than dismayed at the service 
 which might be asked of him. " The rich have two kinds of 
 foes," said he, " the small and the great. The first are like 
 the ants, that empty the house grain by grain ; the second like 
 the lion, the king of robbers, that flays us with one stroke of 
 his paw. But, with patience and cunning, it is easier to shake 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 255 
 
 off the lion than the ant. Let us see what the sherif desires ; 
 if he wishes to deceive me, I will not be duped by him ; if he 
 wishes to be paid, he shall give me the worth of the money." 
 
 It was with this respect for the Commander of the Faithful 
 that Omar took the way to Taif. The sight of the desert 
 soon changed the current of his thoughts. The tents and 
 the clumps of palm-trees scattered amid the sands recalled his 
 childhood, and for the first time his brother Abdallah recur- 
 red to his memory. " Who knows," he thought, " whether by 
 chance I may not need him ?" 
 
 VII. 
 
 B A R S I M. 
 
 WHILE the son of Mansour abandoned himself to the love 
 of gain as if he were to live forever, Abdallah grew in piety, 
 wisdom, and virtue. He had adopted his father's calling, and 
 guided the caravans between Yambo, Medina, and Mecca. 
 As ardent as the young horse that flings his mane to the wind, 
 and as prudent as a graybeard, he had gained the confidence 
 of the principal merchants, and, despite his youth, it was he 
 that was recommended by preference to the pilgrims when 
 they thronged from all parts of the world in the sacred month 
 to march seven times round the holy Caaba, encamp on Mount 
 Arafat, and offer sacrifices in the valley of the Mina. These 
 journeys were not without peril. The Bedouin had more 
 than once risked his life to protect those under his keeping, 
 but he had fought so well that all on his route were beginning 
 to respect and fear him. The aged Hafiz never quitted his 
 pupil ; crippled as he was, he always found means to be use- 
 ful. Wherever there are men, there are always stout arms 
 and resolute hearts, but not always a faithful friend and wise 
 counselor. 
 
256 Fairy Book. 
 
 This life, interspersed with repose and alarm, peace and 
 danger, was delightful to the son of Yusuf. To live a brave 
 man, and die like a soldier in case of need, as his father had 
 done, was Abdallah's sole ambition. His wishes went no far- 
 ther. Nevertheless, a cloud overshadowed the serenity of his 
 soul. Halima had told him of the dervish, and the child of 
 the desert thought continually of the mysterious plant which 
 had the gift of bestowing happiness and virtue. 
 
 Hafiz, to whom Abdallah first opened his heart, saw in this 
 thought nothing but a wile of Satan. " What is the use of 
 troubling yourself?" he said. "God tells us how to please 
 him in the Koran ; he has but one law ; do what he bids, and 
 have no farther anxiety ; our business is only with the pres- 
 ent moment." 
 
 These words failed to appease the curiosity of Abdallah. 
 Hafiz had told him so many marvels which he did not doubt, 
 why should he not believe the story of this talisman to be true, 
 and why might not one of the faithful discover it ? " We dwell- 
 ers among the tents are unlearned," thought the Bedouin ; 
 " what hinders me from questioning the pilgrims ? God has 
 dispersed the truth abroad throughout the earth ; who knows 
 whether some hadji of the East or West may not know the 
 secret which I am seeking ? The dervish did not answer my 
 mother at random ; and, with God's help, I will find the right 
 path." 
 
 A short time after, Abdallah guided to Mecca a caravan of 
 pilgrims from Egypt. At the head of the troop was a physi- 
 cian who talked constantly, laughed without ceasing, and 
 doubted every thing a Frank, it was said, who had abjured 
 his errors to enter the service of the pacha. Abdallah re- 
 solved to question him. As they passed a meadow, he gath- 
 ered a sprig of clover in blossom, and presenting it to the 
 stranger, " Is this plant known in your country ?" said he. 
 
Abdallak; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 257 
 
 " Certainly," answered the physician. " It is what you call 
 barsim, and we trifolium. It is the Alexandrian trefoil, family 
 leguminosae, calyx tubular, corolla persistent, petals divided 
 into three segments or foliolae, and sometimes into four or 
 even five, though this is an exception, or, as we say, a mon- 
 strosity." 
 
 " Is there no species of clover, then, in your country that 
 always has four leaves ?" 
 
 "No, my young scholar, neither in my country nor any 
 where else. Why do you ask ?" 
 
 Abdallah gave him his confidence, whereupon he burst out 
 laughing. " My child," said he, " the dervish was fooling 
 your mother. She asked what was impossible of him, and he 
 promised her what was impossible." 
 
 "Why should not God create a four-leaved clover if he 
 wished ?" asked the Bedouin, wounded by the stranger's dis- 
 dainful smile. 
 
 " Why, young man ? Because the earth produced all the 
 plants on one day by virtue of a germinating power which was 
 then exhausted. Since the time of King Solomon there has 
 been nothing new under the sun." 
 
 " And if God wished to work a miracle, is His power ex- 
 hausted ?" said Hafiz, who had approached the travelers ; " He 
 who drew the seven heavens and the seven earths from the 
 smoke in the space of two days, and set them five hundred 
 days' march from each other He who ordered the night to 
 envelop the day He who planted life every where, could He 
 not add a new blade of grass to the millions of plants which 
 he has created for the food and pleasure of man ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied the physician, in a mocking tone ; " I 
 am too good a Mussulman to pretend the contrary. God 
 might also send his thunderbolt to light my pipe that has just 
 gone out, but he does not wish to do it ; on the contrary, he 
 
258 Fairy Book. 
 
 wishes me to ask you for a little fire." With these words he 
 began to puff his pipe and to whistle a foreign air. 
 
 " Accursed be unbelievers !" cried the cripple. " Come, 
 my son, leave this miscreant, whose breath is death. If it is 
 in punishment for our sins that God has given the Franks the 
 knowledge that makes their power, it is also to chastise these 
 dogs, and hurry them faster toward the bottomless pit. Mad- 
 men, who, to deny God, make use of his very power, and the 
 perpetual miracle of his goodness ! Begone, infidel !" he add- 
 ed, raising his hand to heaven as if to call down its thunders 
 on the head of the renegade ; " begone, ingrate, who turnest 
 thy back upon the Lord ! God beholds the innermost recesses 
 of thy soul ; thou wilt die in despair, and wilt feed forever on 
 the tree of hell, with its bitter fruit and poisoned thorns." 
 
 At the other end of the caravan walked a Persian, with a 
 white beard and a tall sheepskin hat, the poorest and most 
 aged of the band, as well as the most despised, for he was of 
 a heretical nation. The old man seemed unconscious of his 
 poverty, age, and solitude. He spoke to no one, ate little, and 
 smoked all day long. Perched on a lean camel, he passed 
 his whole time in turning in his fingers the ninety-nine beads 
 of his rosary, lifting his trembling head meanwhile toward 
 heaven, and murmuring mysterious words. The poor man's 
 gentleness and piety had touched Abclallah's heart. Too 
 young as yet to know hatred, it was with the heretic that the 
 son of Yusuf sought a refuge from the unbeliever. 
 
 The animated face and sparkling eyes of the young guide 
 touched the heart of the dervish, who welcomed the confi- 
 dence that he divined with a kindly smile. " My son," said 
 he, " God give thee the wit of Plato, the knowledge of Aris- 
 totle, the star of Alexander, and the happiness of Cosroes !" 
 
 " My father, thou speakest well," cried Abdallah ; " it is 
 knowledge that I need ; not the knowledge of a heathen, but 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 259 
 
 that of a true Mussulman, to whom faith opens the treasure 
 of truth." 
 
 " Speak, my son," returned the old man ; " perchance I can 
 serve thee. Truth is like the pearl : he alone possesses it who 
 has plunged into the depths of life and torn his hands on the 
 rocks of time. What thou seekest I perhaps have found. 
 Who knows whether I may not be able to give thee the light 
 which thou enviest, and which is now valueless to my dim 
 eyes ?" 
 
 Won by such kindliness, Abdallah poured out his soul be- 
 fore the dervish, who listened in silence. The confidence 
 ended, the old man for his sole answer drew a lock of white 
 wool from the mat on which he was sitting, and cast it to the 
 wind ; then, swaying his body like a drunken man, and fixing 
 a strange gaze on Abdallah, he improvised the following lines : 
 
 " Tulip with dark corolla, charming cypress, 
 Young man, with eyes more black and soft than night, 
 Seest thou yon white speck fluttering in the breeze ? 
 Thus pass our days a dream that soon is told I 
 The desert rain less speedily dries up, 
 The falling rose less quickly fades away ; 
 All cheats or fails us, and the noblest life 
 Is but the long sigh of a last adieu. 
 
 God alone is true ; God alone is great ; God alone is God 1 
 Would'st thou, my child, that in the sacred book 
 Thy guardian angel should inscribe thy name ? 
 Flee the intoxicating joys of sense. 
 God loves a heart unsullied by the world ; 
 The body is naught but a sepulchre ; 
 Happy the man who breaks its deadening bonds, 
 To plunge into the depths of boundless love ! 
 To live in God is death ; to die in God is life 1" 
 
 " Thy words inflame my heart," said Abdallah ; " but thou 
 dost not answer me." 
 
 " What, my son !" cried the mystic, " dost thou not under- 
 stand me ? The four-leaved clover does not exist on earth ; 
 thou must seek it elsewhere. The four-leaved clover is a sym- 
 
260 Fairy Book. 
 
 bol it is the impossible, the ineffable, the infinite ! Wouldst 
 thou possess it ? I will reveal to thee the secret. Stifle thy 
 senses ; become blind, mute, and deaf; quit the city of exist- 
 ence ; be like a traveler in the kingdom of nothingness ; plunge 
 into ecstatic rapture ; and when nothing more causes your heart 
 to beat, when you have encircled your brow with the glorious 
 crown of death, then, my son, thou wilt find eternal love, and 
 be swallowed up in it like a drop of water in the vast ocean. 
 This is life ! When nothing was yet in being, love existed ; 
 when nothing more remains, love will endure ; it is the first 
 and the last ; it is God and man ; it is the Creator and the crea- 
 ture ; it is the heights above and the depths below ; it is every 
 thing." 
 
 " Old man," said the Bedouin, affrighted, " age has weaken- 
 ed thy reason ; thou dost not feel that thou art blaspheming. 
 God alone existed before the world had being, God alone will 
 remain when the heavens shall have crushed the earth in their 
 fall. He is the first and the last, the manifest and the hid- 
 den ; he is mighty and wise ; he knoweth all things, and is 
 able to do all things." 
 
 The old man did not hear ; he seemed in a dream ; his lips 
 moved, his eyes were fixed and sightless ; a vision carried far 
 from the earth this victim of the delusions of Satan. Abdal- 
 lah returned mournfully to Hafiz and related to him this new 
 disappointment. 
 
 " My child," said the cripple, " flee these madmen who in- 
 toxicate themselves with visions like others with opium or 
 hasheesh. They are idolaters who worship themselves. Poor 
 fools! does the eye create the light? does the mind of man 
 create the truth? Woe to him who draws from his brain a 
 world lighter and more hollow than a bubble ; woe to him 
 who sets man on the throne of God ! As soon as he enters 
 the city of dreams he is lost ; God is effaced, faith evaporates, 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 261 
 
 the will becomes lifeless, and the soul is stifled ; it is the reign 
 of darkness and death." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE JEW. 
 
 YOUTH is the season of hope and desire. Despite his dis- 
 comfiture, Abdallah did not tire of questioning the pilgrims 
 whom he guided to Mecca, still relying on a happy chance ; 
 but Persia, Syria, Egypt, Turkey, and India were mute ; no 
 one had heard of the four-leaved clover. Hafiz condemned a 
 curiosity which he thought guilty, while Halima consoled her 
 son by making him believe that she still hoped with him. 
 
 One day, when Abdallah had retired to his tent more mel- 
 ancholy than usual, and was debating in his own mind wheth- 
 er he would not do well to quit his tribe and go to foreign 
 lands in search of the talisman that evaded his grasp, a Jew 
 entered the inclosure to ask hospitality. He was a little old 
 man, dressed in rags, so thin that his girdle seemed to cut 
 him in two. Leaning on a staff, he slowly dragged along his 
 feet, wrapped in bloody rags, as he raised his head from time 
 to time, and looked around as if imploring pity. His wrinkled 
 brow, his inflamed eyelids, his thin lips, which scarcely covered 
 his toothless gums, his disordered beard, which fell to his waist, 
 every thing about him bespoke want and suffering. The 
 stranger perceived Abdallah, and stretched out his trembling 
 hand to him, murmuring in a weak voice, " Oh, master of the 
 tent, behold a guest of God !" 
 
 Wholly absorbed in his thoughts, the son of Yusuf heard 
 nothing. The old man had already thrice repeated his prayer 
 when, unhappily, he turned his head toward a neighboring tent, 
 where a negress was nursing her child. At the sight of the 
 Jew the woman hid her babe to preserve it from the evil eye, 
 
262 Fairy Book. 
 
 and, rushing from her tent, cried, " Begone, thou wretch wor- 
 thy to be stoned ! Hast thou come here to bring misfortune ? 
 May as many curses light on thee as there are hairs in thy 
 beard !" And, calling the dogs, she set them on the wretched 
 man, who tried to flee ; but his foot caught in his robe and he 
 fell, uttering lamentable cries, too weak to drive off the ene- 
 mies that were tearing him. 
 
 His shrieks roused Abdallah. To rush to the Jew, punish 
 the dogs, and threaten the slave was the work of an instant. 
 He picked up the Jew, took him in his arms, and carried him 
 into the tent; a moment after he was washing his feet and 
 hands, and binding up his wounds, while Halima brought him 
 dates and milk. 
 
 " I bless thee, my son," said the old man, in tears. " The 
 blessing of the meanest of mankind is never contemptible in 
 the sight of the Lord. May God remove far from thee jeal- 
 ousy, sadness, and pride, and grant thee wisdom, patience, and 
 peace, the gifts that he has promised to the generous of heart 
 like thee !" 
 
 At evening, Hafiz, Abdallah, and the Jew talked long to- 
 gether round their frugal repast, although the cripple could 
 not conceal his repugnance to the son of Israel. Abdallah, 
 on the contrary, listened to the old man with interest, for 
 the stranger was a great traveler, and told them of his jour- 
 neyings. He was acquainted with Muscat, Hindostan, and 
 Persia ; he had visited the country of the Franks and cross* 
 ed the deserts of Africa ; he had now come from Egypt 
 through Soudan, and was returning to Jerusalem by the way 
 of Syria. 
 
 " But the object of my search is not wealth, my dear host." 
 said the Jew ; " more than once have I seen it on the road- 
 side and passed it by. Poverty befits the children of Abra- 
 ham, say our sages, as do scarlet trappings the snow-white 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 263 
 
 steed. What I have pursued for half a century over deserts 
 and seas, through fatigue and misery, is the Word of God, the 
 sacred tradition. That unwritten word, which God gave to 
 Moses on Mount Sinai, was confided by Moses to the keep- 
 ing of Joshua ; Joshua transmitted it to the seventy elders, 
 the elders to the prophets, and the prophets to the synagogue. 
 After the destruction of Jerusalem, our masters collected it in 
 the Talmud, but how far were they from possessing it entire ! 
 To punish the sins of our fathers, God broke asunder the 
 truth, and scattered the fragments to the four winds of heaven. 
 Happy is he who can gather together these dispersed shreds 
 happy is he who can discover a ray of the divine splendor ! 
 The children of the age may despise and hate him ; their in- 
 sults are to his soul like the rain to the earth : in bursting it 
 asunder, they purify and refresh it." 
 
 "And are you this man, my father?" said Abdallah, so 
 deeply moved by the words of his guest that he quite forgot 
 that he was talking with an infidel. " Have you discovered 
 this treasure ? Do you possess the whole truth ?" 
 
 " I am but a worm of the earth," replied the Jew ; " but 
 from my childhood up I have questioned the masters, and en- 
 treated them to repeat to me the secrets of the law ; I have 
 sought in the Cabala for the wealth that is thought valueless 
 in the marts of the world, and I have endeavored to de- 
 cipher that language of numbers which is the key to all truth. 
 How far I have succeeded God alone can judge ; to Him be 
 the praise ! One thing is certain, namely, that the angel Raz- 
 riel initiated Adam into the mysteries of the creation ; and 
 who dare say that this revelation is lost ? If there lives a 
 man who has lifted a corner of the veil, he has nothing more 
 to hope or fear on earth ; he has had his day, and is ready for 
 death." 
 
 " My father," asked the young Bedouin, trembling, " has 
 
264 Fairy Book. 
 
 your science told you of a sacred plant which at once bestows 
 virtue and happiness ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied the old man, smiling ; " it is treated 
 of in the Zohar, with many other marvels." 
 
 " It is the four-leaved clover, is it not ?" 
 
 " Perchance," returned the Jew, with a frown ; " but how 
 did this name reach your ears ?" 
 
 When the son of Yusuf had finished his story, the old man 
 gazed at him tenderly. " My son," said he, " the poor often 
 repay hospitality better than the rich, for God himself holds 
 the purse-strings. The secret which thou art seeking I long 
 ago discovered in the recesses of Persia ; and, since God has 
 led my steps to thy tent, it is doubtless because he has chosen 
 me to bring thee the truth. Listen, therefore, and let what I 
 am about to tell thee be engraven on thy heart." 
 
 Hafiz and Abdallah drew near the old man, who related 
 the following tale in a low and mysterious voice : 
 
 "You know that when God drove our first father Adam 
 from Paradise, he permitted him to carry with him upon earth 
 the date-tree to serve as his nourishment, and the camel, 
 which was moulded of the same clay as himself, and which 
 could not exist without him." 
 
 " That is true," exclaimed the cripple. '' When my young 
 camels come into the world, they would die of hunger if I did 
 not hold their head to their mother's breast ; the camel is 
 made for us as we are for the camel." 
 
 "When the flaming sword drove the first criminals before 
 it, Adam cast a look of despair at the abode which he was 
 forced to forsake, and, to carry with him a last memento, broke 
 off a branch of myrtle. The angel let him alone ; he remem- 
 bered that by God's command he had formerly worshiped the 
 mortal whom now he pitied." 
 
 " True !" said Hafiz. " It was the same branch of myrtle 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 265 
 
 that Shoaib long after gave to his son-in-law Moses ; it was 
 the staff with which the prophet tended his flocks, and with 
 which he afterward wrought his miracles in Egypt." 
 
 "Eve also paused in tears before those flowers and trees 
 which she had loved so well ; but the sword was pitiless, and 
 she was forced to proceed. Just as she was about to go out, 
 she hastily snatched one of the plants of Paradise. The an- 
 gel shut his eyes as he had done with Adam. What the plant 
 was Eve knew not ; she had clutched it in her flight, and had 
 instantly closed her hand. She would have been wise had 
 she carried it away in the same manner ; but curiosity once 
 more prevailed over prudence, and, before crossing the fatal 
 threshold, our mother opened her hand to see what she had 
 gathered. It was the four-leaved clover, the most brilliant 
 of all the flowers of Paradise. One leaf was red like copper, 
 another white like silver, the third yellow like gold, and the 
 fourth glittering like diamond. Eve paused to look at her 
 treasure, when the fiery sword touched her ; she started, her 
 hand trembled, and the diamond leaf fell within the gates of 
 Paradise, while the other three leaves, swept away by the 
 wind, were scattered over the earth ; where they fell, God 
 alone knows." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the young man, " have they never since 
 been seen ?" 
 
 " Not that I know of; and it is even possible that the story 
 is only an allegory, concealing some profound truth." 
 
 " No, no," said Abdallah, " that is not so. Tiy to remem- 
 ber, my father ; perchance you will recall something more. I 
 must have this plant at any price ; I wish it, and, with God's 
 aid, I will have it." 
 
 The old man buried his face in his hands, and long re- 
 mained absorbed in contemplation. Abdallah and Hafiz 
 scarcely dared breathe for fear of disturbing his revery. 
 
 M 
 
266 Fairy Book. 
 
 "My efforts are in vain; I can recall nothing to memory," 
 said he, at last ; " perhaps my book will give me some inform- 
 ation." He took from his girdle a yellow manuscript volume, 
 with a black, greasy cover, turned the pages slowly, carefully 
 examined the squares, circles, and alphabets mixed with fig- 
 ures, beginning some with aleph and others with thau, the last 
 letter of the Hebrew alphabet. " Here are four lines which 
 are repeated in Soudan, and which may interest you," said he, 
 at last, " but their meaning escapes me : 
 
 " ' There is a mysterious herb 
 
 That grows hidden from human eyes ; 
 Seek it not upon earth, 
 
 'Twill be found above in the skies.' 
 
 " Patience, patience," he added, seeing Abdallah's emotion, 
 " the words have more than one meaning ; the ignorant seek 
 to fish up truth from the surface, the wise pursue it to the re- 
 motest depths, where they attain it, thanks to the most power- 
 ful of instruments, the sacred decade of the Sephiroth. Do 
 you not remember the saying of one of our masters, the Rab- 
 bi Halaphta, the son of Dozza ? 
 
 " ' Seek not heaven in yonder azure depths, 
 
 Where glows the burning sun and pales the moon ; 
 For heaven, my son, lies hid in thine own soul, 
 And Paradise is naught but a pure heart.' 
 
 " Yes," he continued, raising his voice, " I discern a light that 
 guides me. Since God has permitted us to meet, he has 
 doubtless decreed that you shall find what you desire ; but 
 beware of outstripping his will by a vain and guilty curiosity. 
 Follow his law, execute his commands, create a heaven in 
 your soul, and some day, perchance, when you least expect it, 
 you will find the desired reward. This, at least, is all that my 
 science can tell you." 
 
 " Well spoken, old man," said Hafiz, laying his hand on 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 267 
 
 Abdallah's shoulder. " Nephew," he added, " God is master 
 of the hour; wait and obey." 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE WELL OF ZOBEYDE. 
 
 THE night was a sweet one to Abdallah. He saw the mys> 
 terious plant more than once in his dreams, and, as soon as 
 he awakened, he sought to retain the friend who had given 
 him hope, but the Jew obstinately refused his entreaty. 
 
 " No, my son," said he, " one night in thy tent is enough. 
 The first day a man is a guest, the second a burden, the third 
 a pest. Thou hast nothing more to tell me, and I have noth- 
 ing more to teach thee ; it is time for us to part. Let me 
 thank thee once more, and pray God in thy behalf. If we 
 have no longer the same keblah,* at least we are both the 
 children of Abraham, and both worship the same God." 
 
 The only favor that Abdallah could obtain was for the Jew 
 to mount a camel, and permit his two friends to accompany 
 him a day's journey on his way. Hafiz had taken a fancy to 
 the stranger, and Abdallah hoped to gain some new light on 
 the subject nearest his heart; but the sight of the desert 
 awakened new ideas in the old man's mind, and he thought 
 no more of the stories of the past night. 
 
 " If I am not mistaken," said he to Hafiz, " we shall find 
 on our way the well dug in olden times by the Sultan Zobeyde 
 in his pilgrimage to Mecca." 
 
 " Yes," replied the cripple, " it is Haroun Al-Raschid's mon- 
 ument in our country. To the calif and his pious wife we 
 owe our finest gardens." 
 
 " A glorious monument," exclaimed the Jew, " and one that 
 
 * The point of the horizon toward which men turn their faces in prayer ; the Moham- 
 medans turn toward Mecca, the Jews toward Jerusalem. 
 
268 Fairy Book. 
 
 will endure when what men call glory, that is, blood uselessly 
 shed and money foolishly spent, shall be forgotten." 
 
 " Spoken like one of the children of Israel," rejoined Hafiz. 
 "You are a shop-keeping people. A Bedouin reasons in a 
 different fashion. War to him is the best thing of all that 
 earth affords. He who has not looked death in the face 
 knows not whether he is a man. It is noble to strike with 
 the front to the foe ; it is glorious to overthrow an enemy and 
 avenge those we love. Are you not of the same mind, my 
 nephew ?" 
 
 " You are right, my uncle j but battle is not pleasure with- 
 out alloy. I remember the time when, closely pressed by a 
 Bedouin who held a pistol to my head, I plunged my sword 
 into his breast. He fell ; my joy was extreme, but it was of 
 short duration. As I looked on his dim eyes, and his lips 
 covered with the foam of death, I thought in spite of myself 
 that he had a mother who, however proud she might be of 
 having given birth to a brave man, must thenceforth remain 
 lonely and desolate, as my mother would have been had her 
 son been killed instead. And this man was a Mussulman 
 that is, a brother ! Perhaps you are right," added the young 
 man, turning to the Jew. " War doubtless is noble ; but to 
 fight the desert, like the calif, and force the wilderness to 
 give way before fertility and abundance this is great indeed ! 
 Happy they who lived in the days of Zobeyde the Good !" 
 
 " Why not imitate those you admire ?" asked the old man 
 in a low tone, as if wishing to be heard by Abdallah alone. 
 
 " Explain yourself," said the Bedouin j " I do not under- 
 stand you." 
 
 " Nor I neither," said the cripple. 
 
 " It is because the eyes of youth are not yet open, and those 
 of old age are blinded by habit. Why is this clump of acacias 
 in this spot, when all around it is barren ? Why do these 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 269 
 
 sheep browse on grass which is almost green here when the 
 sands of the desert have dominion every where else ? Why 
 do these birds flutter in and out among the sheep, and pick 
 up the still sprouting earth with their beaks ? You see this 
 daily, and because you see it daily you do not reflect on it. 
 Men are made thus , they would admire the sun did it not 
 return every morning." 
 
 " You are right," said Abdallah, thoughtfully : " there is wa- 
 ter in this spot ; perhaps one of the wells formerly dug by the 
 calif." 
 
 " How can you be certain ?" asked Hafiz. 
 
 " You would not ask the question," returned the Jew, " if, 
 like me, you had grown old on the Talmud. Hearken to the 
 words of one of our masters, and know that all knowledge is 
 contained in our law. ' The words of the law before the com- 
 ing of Solomon were like unto a well, whose cool water lies 
 far below the surface of the earth, so that none can drink 
 thereof. Seeing this, the wise man fastens one rope to an- 
 other and one thread to another, then draws and drinks. It 
 was thus that Solomon passed from allegory to allegory, and 
 from speech to speech, till he had fathomed the words of the 
 law.' " 
 
 "Whoever finds this spring will find a treasure," said the 
 shepherd. " Stay with us, stranger, and we will seek it to- 
 gether : you shall aid us with your science, and we will share 
 with you." 
 
 " No," replied the Jew. " He who weds Science weds pov- 
 erty. I have lived too happily for half a century with Study to 
 be divorced from her now. Wealth is an imperious mistress ; 
 she requires the whole heart and life of man. Leave her to 
 the young." 
 
 The sun was going down on the horizon. The old man 
 dismounted from his camel and thanked his two companions, 
 
270 Fairy Book. 
 
 whom he tenderly embraced, insisting that they should go no 
 farther. " Be not concerned about me," he said ; " he has 
 nothing to fear who has poverty for his baggage, old age for 
 his escort, and God for his companion." And, waving his 
 hand for the last time, he resolutely plunged into the desert. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE COPPER LEAF. 
 
 IT was not a difficult matter to purchase the spot of ground 
 where the piercing eye of the pilgrim had divined a spring ; a 
 few feddans* of half-barren sand are of little value in the des- 
 ert, and twenty douros that Halima had formerly received 
 from Mansour, and had kept carefully in an old vase, sufficed 
 to crown Abdallah's wishes. Hafiz, who was always prudent, 
 gave out that he intended to build there a shelter for his flock, 
 and immediately set to work to bring sufficient boughs thither 
 to conceal from all eyes the mysterious work about to be un- 
 dertaken. 
 
 Wherever there are women and children there are curiosity 
 and gossip. It was soon a common rumor among the tribe 
 that Hafiz and his nephew passed the nights in digging for 
 treasure ; and when, at nightfall, as the shepherds led their 
 flocks to water, they spied the two friends covered with sand, 
 they did not spare their taunts and jeers. "What is that?" 
 they asked ; "jackals hiding in their den,- dervishes hollowing 
 out their cell, or old men building their tomb ?" " No," was 
 the answer, " magicians digging a path to the bottomless pit" 
 " Let them be patient," cried others ; " they will find their way 
 there only too soon." And the laughter and ridicule went on : 
 no bit has yet been found to curb the mouth of the envious 
 and ignorant. 
 
 * The feddan is a little less than our acre. 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 271 
 
 Abdallah and his uncle continued to dig with ardor for 
 more than a month with but little progress j the sand caved 
 in, and the night destroyed the labor of the day. Halima was 
 the first to lose patience. She accused her brother of having 
 yielded too easily to the folly of a child. By degrees Hafiz 
 grew discouraged, acknowledged the justice of his sister's re- 
 proaches, and abandoned the undertaking. " God has pun- 
 ished me for my weakness," said he. " It was a great mistake 
 to listen to the wretched impostor who amused himself with 
 our credulity. Could any. thing else have been expected from 
 those eternal foes of the Prophet and the truth ?" 
 
 Abdallah, left alone, did not suffer himself to be cast down 
 by misfortune. " God is my witness," he repeated, " that I am 
 laboring for my people, and not for myself alone. If I fail, 
 what matters my pains ? if I succeed, what matters the time ?" 
 He passed another whole month in propping up the inside of 
 the well with wood, and, having secured his work, began to dig 
 anew. 
 
 On the fifteenth day of the third month, Hafiz, urged by 
 Halima, determined to make a last effort with that headstrong 
 nephew who continued to cherish a foolish hope after his 
 uncle had set him the example of wisdom and resignation. 
 To preach to Abdallah was not an easy task ; the well was 
 already thirty cubits deep, and the workman was at the bot- 
 tom. Hafiz threw himself on the ground, and, putting his 
 mouth to the edge of the hole, shouted, " You headstrong 
 child, more stubborn than a mule, have you sworn to bury 
 yourself in this accursed well ?" 
 
 " Since you are there, uncle," answered Abdallah, in a voice 
 which seemed to come from the bottomless pit, " will you be 
 kind enough to draw up the pannier and empty it, to save 
 time ?" 
 
 " Unhappy boy," cried Hafiz, in a tone more of anger than 
 
272 Fairy Book. 
 
 pity, "have you forgotten the lessons which I gave you in 
 your childhood ? Have you so little respect for your mother 
 and me that you persist in afflicting us ? Have you forgotten 
 the beautiful saying of the Koran, ' Whoso is preserved from 
 the covetousness of his own soul, he shall surely prosper ?' 
 Do you think " 
 
 "Father! father!" cried Abdallah, "I feel moisture; the 
 water is coming ; I hear it. Help ! draw up the pannier, or I 
 am lost." 
 
 Hafiz sprang to the rope, and well it was for him that he 
 did so, for, despite all his haste, he brought up his nephew 
 covered with mud, senseless, and half drowned. The water 
 was rushing and boiling up in the well. Abdallah soon came 
 to himself, and listened with delight to the rushing of the 
 water ; his heart beat violently, and Hafiz's eyes filled with 
 tears. Suddenly the noise ceased. Hafiz lighted a handful 
 of dry grass and threw it into the well, and, less than ten 
 paces from the surface, he saw the water, smooth and glitter- 
 ing as steel. To lower a jug and draw it up again was the 
 work of an instant. The water was sweet. Abdallah fell on 
 his knees and bowed his head to the earth. His uncle fol- 
 lowed his example, then rose, embraced his nephew, and en- 
 treated his pardon. 
 
 Within an hour, despite the heat of the day, the two Bed- 
 ouins had fixed a windlass by the side of the spring, furnish- 
 ed with earthen buckets and turned by two oxen, and the 
 groaning sakiah poured the water upon the yellow grass, and 
 restored to the earth the freshness of spring. 
 
 At nightfall, instead of going to the watering-place, the shep- 
 herds stopped with their flocks at the spring, and the scoffers 
 of the night before glorified Abdallah. " We foresaw it," said 
 the elders. " Happy the mother of such a son !" exclaimed 
 the matrons. " Happy the wife of such a brave and hand 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 273 
 
 some youth !" thought the maidens. And all added, " Blessed 
 be the servant of God and his children's children I" 
 
 When the tribe was assembled together, the son of Yusuf 
 filled a jug with water as cool as that of the well of Zem- 
 zem,* and, resting it on his arm, offered it first to his mother, 
 and then to each of the others in turn. He himself was the 
 last to drink. As he lifted the vessel to drain it to the bot- 
 tom he felt something cold strike his lips. It was a bit of 
 metal that had been swept along by the spring. 
 
 " What is this, my uncle ?" asked he of Hafiz. " Does cop- 
 per thus lie hidden in the bowels of the earth ?" 
 
 " Oh, my son, preserve it ; it is the choicest of treasures," 
 cried the old man. " God has sent you the reward of your 
 courage and labor. Do you not see that it is a clover leaf? 
 The earth itself has opened to bring you from its depths this 
 flower of Paradise. All that the honest son of Israel told us 
 is true. Hope, my child, hope ! Praise God the Only, the 
 Incomparable, and the All-powerful ! He alone is great 1" 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE GARDENS OF IREM. 
 
 VERDANT gardens watered by living springs, branches laden 
 with fruit, palm-trees, pomegranates, eternal shade such is 
 the paradise which the Book of Truth promises the faithful. 
 Abdallah received a foretaste of this paradise on earth. His 
 garden in a few years was the most beautiful spot imaginable 
 a shady and peaceful retreat, the delight of the eye and the 
 heart. White clematis twined round the acacias and olive- 
 trees, hedges of myrtle surrounded the dourah, barley, and 
 melon-beds with perpetual verdure, and the cool water, flow- 
 
 * A sacred well within the walls of the temple at Mecca ; the same, according to tra- 
 dition, which gushed forth in the desert at the command of the angel to quench the 
 thirst of Hagar and Ishmael. 
 
 M 2 
 
274 Fairy Book. 
 
 ing through numerous trenches, bathed the foot of the young 
 orange-trees. Grapes, bananas, apricots, and pomegranates 
 abounded in their season, and flowers blossomed all the year 
 round. In this happy abode, where sadness never came, the 
 rose, the jasmine, the mint, the gray-eyed narcissus, and the 
 wormwood with its azure blossoms, seemed to smile on the 
 passer-by, and delighted him with their gentle fragrance when 
 his eye was weary of admiring their beauty. What thicket 
 escapes the piercing eye of the bird ? These friends of the 
 fruits and flowers hastened thither from every quarter of the 
 horizon. One would have said that they knew the hand that 
 fed them. In the morning, when Abdallah quitted his tent 
 to spread the carpet of prayer on the dew-bespangled grass, 
 the sparrows welcomed him with joyful cries, the turtle-doves 
 cooed more tenderly than ever from under the broad fig- 
 leaves, the bees alighted on his head, and the butterflies flut- 
 tered around him ; flowers, birds, humming insects, and mur- 
 muring waters, all things living seemed to render him thanks, 
 all lifted up Abdallah's soul toward Him who had given him 
 peace and plenty. 
 
 It was not for himself that the son of Yusuf had desired 
 the wealth which he shared with his friends. He dug a deep 
 basin at the bottom of the garden into which the water flowed 
 and remained cool during the summer droughts. The birds, 
 fluttering about it, attracted the caravans from afar. " What 
 water is that ?" said the camel-drivers. " During all the years 
 that we have traveled over the desert we have never seen this 
 cistern. Have we mistaken our road ? We filled our skins 
 for seven days, and here we find water on the third day's 
 march ? Are these the gardens of Irem* which we are per- 
 
 * Sheddad, the king of Ad, having heard of Paradise and its delights, undertook to 
 build a palace and garden which should rival it in magnificence. A terrible voice from 
 heaven destroyed this monument of pride, or, rather, rendered it invisible, for a certain 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 275 
 
 mitted to behold ? Has God forgiven the presumptuous mon- 
 arch who undertook to create a paradise in the midst of the 
 desert ?" " No," answered Halima, " these are not the gar- 
 dens of Irem. What you behold is the work of labor and 
 prayer. God has blessed my son Abdallah." And the well 
 was called the Well of the Benediction. 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE TWO BROTHERS. 
 
 THREE things are the delight of the eye, says the proverb 
 running water, verdure, and beauty. Halima felt what was 
 lacking in this well-watered and verdant garden. Again and 
 again she repeated to her son that a man should not suffer 
 his father's name to perish, but Abdallah turned a deaf ear to 
 her. He had no thought of marriage ; his mind was else- 
 where. He looked continually at the tiny copper leaf, and 
 continually asked himself by what deed of valor or goodness 
 he could please God and obtain the only boon that he de- 
 sired. Man's heart has not room for two passions at the 
 same time. 
 
 One evening, when old Hafiz had visited his sister, and was 
 using all his eloquence to persuade this wild colt to submit to 
 the bridle, a gun fired at a distance announced the arrival of 
 a caravan. Abdallah rose instantly to meet the strangers, 
 leaving Halima in despair and poor Hafiz confounded. He 
 soon returned, bringing with him a man still in his youth, but 
 already fat and corpulent. The stranger bowed to Hafiz and 
 Halima, gazed at them earnestly, then, fixing his small eyes 
 on the Bedouin, " Is not this the tribe of the Beni Amurs," he 
 
 Ibn Kelabah pretended to have seen them during the reign of the Calif Moyawiah. 
 The gardens of Irem are as celebrated among the Arabs as the Tower of Babel among 
 the Hebrews. 
 
276 Fairy Book. 
 
 asked, " and am I not in the tent of Abdallah, the son of 
 Yusuf?" 
 
 " It is Abdallah that has the honor of welcoming you," an- 
 swered the young man ; " all that is here belongs to your 
 lordship." 
 
 " What !" cried the new-comer, " have ten years' absence so 
 changed me that I am a stranger in this dwelling? Has 
 Abdallah forgotten his brother? Has my mother but one 
 son?" 
 
 The meeting was a joyful one after so long a separation. 
 Abdallah embraced Omar again and again, and Halima kissed 
 first one and then the other, while Hafiz whispered to himself 
 that man is a wicked animal. To suspect the son of Man- 
 sour of ingratitude was a crime, but how often had this crime 
 been committed by the old shepherd. 
 
 The repast finished and the pipes brought, Omar took up 
 the conversation. " How delighted I am to see you," said he, 
 tenderly clasping his brother's hand, " and the more so that I 
 come to do you a service." 
 
 " Speak, brother !" said the son of Yusuf. " Having noth- 
 ing to hope or fear except from God, I know not what service 
 you can render me ; but danger often draws near us without 
 our knowledge, and nothing is quicker than the eye of a 
 friend." 
 
 " It is not danger, but fortune that is in question," returned 
 the son of Mansour. " Behold what brought me hither. I 
 come from Taif, whither I had been summoned by the grand 
 sherif. ' Omar,' said he to me, ' I know you to be the rich- 
 est and most prudent merchant of Djiddah ; you are known 
 throughout the desert, where there is not a tribe that does not 
 respect your name, or is not ready, at the sight of your signet, 
 to furnish camels to transport your merchandise, or brave 
 men to defend it. For this reason, I have conceived a high 
 
Abdallak; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 277 
 
 esteem for you, and it is to give you a proof of it that I have 
 summoned you hither.' 
 
 " I bowed respectfully and awaited the pleasure of the 
 sherif, who stroked his beard a long time before proceeding. 
 * The Pacha of Egypt,' said he at last, in a hesitating manner 
 ' the Pacha of Egypt, who prizes my friendship as I prize 
 his, has sent me a slave who will be the gem of my harem, 
 and whom, through respect for the hand that chose her, I can 
 receive only as a wife. The pacha does me an honor which 
 I accept with gratitude, though I am old, and at my age, hav 
 ing already a wife whom I love, it would have been wiser not 
 to risk the peace of my household. But this slave has not 
 yet arrived, and it is to conduct her hither that I need your 
 prudence and skill. She can not land at Djiddah, which is 
 under Turkish rule, and must therefore go to Yambo, in my 
 dominions. The way is long from Yambo to Taif, and the 
 wandering hordes and haughty tribes of the desert do not al- 
 ways respect my name. It does not suit me to make war 
 on them at present, neither is it fitting that I should expose 
 myself to insult. I am in need, therefore, of a wise and saga- 
 cious man to go to Yambo for me as if on his own behalf. You 
 can easily make the journey, and no one will be surprised at it. 
 What is more natural than that you should go to meet a val- 
 uable cargo, and who would attack you, a simple merchant, in 
 a country where you have so many friends and resources ?' 
 
 " Thus spoke the sherif. I sought to decline the danger- 
 ous favor, but was met with a terrible look. The displeasure 
 of a prince is like the roar of the lion ; to incense him is to 
 rush into his jaws. I resigned myself to what I could not 
 help. ' Commander of the Faithful,' I replied, ' it is true that 
 God has blessed my efforts, and that I have a few friends 
 in the desert. It is for thee to command ; speak, and I 
 obey.'" 
 
278 Fairy Book. 
 
 " That is well," said Abdallah ; " there is peril to brave and 
 glory to win." 
 
 " It is for this reason that I have come to thee," resumed 
 the son of Mansour. " With whom should I share this noble 
 enterprise if not with thee, my brother, the bravest of the 
 brave if not with the wise and prudent Hafiz if not with 
 thy bold comrades ? The Bedouins on the road have never 
 seen me they only know my name ; and, besides, instead of 
 defending my caravan, they might plunder it, as they have 
 done more than once ; but if thou art there with thy follow- 
 ers, they will think twice before attacking it. To thee, there- 
 fore, it belongs to conduct the affair to thee will revert all the 
 honor thereof. Thou seest that I speak with perfect frank- 
 ness. As for me, I am only a merchant ; thou art a man of 
 thought and action. It is said in the desert that I am rich 
 and fond of money a reputation which is a peril rather than 
 an aid ; thou, on the contrary, art respected and dreaded. 
 The name of the son of Yusuf is a power his presence is 
 worth an army. Without thee I can do nothing ; with thee I 
 am sure of succeeding in an adventure in which my head is at 
 stake. Am I wrong in relying on thee ?" 
 
 " No," said Abdallah ; " we are links of one chain ; woe to 
 him who breaks it ! We will set out to-morrow, and, happen 
 what may, thou shalt find me by thy side. A brother is born 
 for evil days." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE CARAVAN. 
 
 THE same evening every thing was in readiness for depart- 
 ure the skins filled, the provisions prepared, the bundles of 
 hay counted, and the harness examined. Abdallah chose the 
 surest camels and the most experienced drivers. Nor was 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 279 
 
 this all : he engaged twelve young men, brave companions, of 
 tried courage, who laughed at fatigue and war. Who would 
 not have been proud of following the son of Yusuf ? His 
 glance commanded respect, his words went to the heart. 
 With sabre always drawn and hand always open, he was the 
 boldest of leaders and the tenderest of friends. Beside him 
 men were as tranquil as the hawk in the cloud or death in the 
 tomb. On his part, Hafiz passed a sleepless night. To clean 
 the guns, try the powder, run the bullets, and sharpen the sa- 
 bres and daggers, was work to his taste, a pleasure that he 
 yielded to no one. 
 
 As soon as the stars began to pale the caravan set out on 
 its way, with Abdallah at the head by the side of Omar, and 
 Hafiz in the rear, watching every thing, and throwing out 
 timely words of fault-finding or praise. The camels walked 
 slowly in single file, accompanied by their leaders chanting 
 the songs of the desert. In the midst of the band proudly 
 marched a magnificent dromedary, with a slender head, of the 
 Oman breed, covered with gold, silver, and shining plumes, 
 and bearing a litter hung with velvet and brocade, the equi- 
 page of the new favorite. The silver-pommeled saddles, Da- 
 mascus blades, and black burnous embroidered with gold, of 
 twelve riders mounted on fine horses, glittered in the first 
 beams of the sun. Next came Abdallah's mare, led by a 
 servant. Nothing could be imagined more beautiful than this 
 mare, the glory of the tribe, and the despair and envy of all 
 the Bedouins : she was called Hamama, the Dove, because 
 she was as snowy, gentle, and fleet as this queen of the forests. 
 
 Abdallah, dressed like a simple camel-driver, and armed 
 with a long iron-headed staff, walked on foot by the side of 
 Omar, who was seated tranquilly on his mule. They were 
 among friends, and had nothing to fear, so that the brothers 
 could talk at length of the past. When the sun darted its 
 
280 Fairy Book. 
 
 vertical rays on their heads, and the scorching air enervated 
 man and beast, the son of Yusuf took his place by the side 
 of the first camel-driver, and, in a grave and solemn voice, 
 chanted one of those hymns of the desert which beguile the 
 lonely way, to the praise of God. 
 
 God alone is great ! 
 Who maketh the earth to tremble ? 
 Who launcheth the thunderbolt through the burning air ? 
 Who giveth the sands to the fury of the simoom ? 
 Who causeth the torrent to gush forth from its arid bed ? 
 His name ? hearest thou it not in the whirlwind ? 
 
 God alone is great ! 
 
 God alone is great ! 
 
 Who calleth the storm from the depths of the sea? 
 Who causeth the rain and clouds to give way before the sun ? 
 Who forceth the hungry wave to lick the strand ? 
 His name ? the wind murmureth it in its flight to the dying wave : 
 
 God alone is great 1 
 
 Oh the power of the divine name ! At the sound of these 
 praises the very brutes forgot their fatigue and marched with 
 a firm tread; the camel-drivers raised their heads; all re- 
 freshed themselves with these words as at a running brook. 
 It is the strength of the soul that gives energy to the body, 
 and for the soul there is no strength but in God. 
 
 Thus passed the first day. The next day some precautions 
 were taken ; Hafiz went in advance as a scout ; they set out 
 as soon as the moon had risen, marched in silence, and stop- 
 ped earlier than the day before, but saw no one. The suc- 
 ceeding days also passed quietly, and on the evening of the 
 ninth day's march they saw at last the walls and towers of 
 Yambo. 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 281 
 
 XIV. 
 
 C A F O U R. 
 
 THE caravan made a short stay in the city ; the brig that 
 brought the slave had arrived the night before, and Omar was 
 in haste to return in peace to Djiddah. The camels rested, 
 they took the way to the desert. 
 
 They received the sultana at the water's edge. A flat-boat 
 put off from the ship with two women wrapped in habarahs, or 
 large mantles of black taffeta, and their faces shrouded, all but 
 the eyes, in bourkos, or white muslin veils that fell to the feet. 
 Omar received the strangers with a respectful bow, and led them 
 to the equipage that awaited them. The dromedary knelt down 
 at the voice of Abdallah. One of the women slowly mounted 
 the palanquin and seated herself, gracefully drawing the folds 
 of her robe about her ; the other approached with equal gravi- 
 ty, but, suddenly snatching off her mantle and veil, she threw 
 them over Omar's head, twisting the muslin around his face, 
 and almost smothering him ; then, putting one foot on the cam- 
 el's neck, she leaped on his back like a cat, grimacing like an 
 ape at the astonished Bedouins, and shouting with laughter. 
 
 " Cafour, you shall be whipped," cried the veiled lady, who 
 had much ado to preserve her gravity; but Cafour did not 
 believe her mistress's threats, and continued to laugh and 
 grimace at Omar as soon as his head emerged from the cover- 
 ings. The son of Mansour at last threw off the heap of silk 
 under which he had been buried, and raised his head angrily 
 toward the creature that had insulted him ; but what was his 
 astonishment to see a smile on the faces of the grave Bed- 
 ouins and Abdallah himself. All shrugged their shoulders as 
 they pointed to his enemy. He looked, and saw a little negro 
 girl of surpassing ugliness. A round flat face, with small eyes. 
 
282 Fairy Book. 
 
 the whites of which were scarcely visible, a flat nose sunken 
 below the cheeks, wide nostrils, from which hung a silver ring 
 that fell below the mouth, enormous lips, teeth as white as 
 those of a young dog, and a chin tattooed blue such was the 
 charming face of the damsel. To add to her ugliness, she 
 was loaded with jewels like an idol. On the crown of her 
 head was a plume of parrot's feathers. The thick wool that 
 covered her head was parted in little tresses ornamented with 
 sequins ; her ears were pierced like a sieve, and hung with 
 rings of every shape and size ; a broad necklace of blue en- 
 amel encircled her neck, and her arm was covered from the 
 wrist to the elbow with seven or eight bracelets of coral, am- 
 ber, and filigree work ; lastly, she wore on each ankle a pro- 
 digious silver band. Such was Cafour, the delight of her mis- 
 tress, the beautiful Leila. 
 
 Full license is given fools, the favorites of God, whose soul 
 is in heaven while their body drags on the earth. The whole 
 caravan, therefore/except Omar, who still bore her a grudge, 
 took a liking to the poor negress. It was but too evident 
 that she had not her reason ; she talked and laughed contin- 
 ually ; her tongue spared nobody, and her judgments were in- 
 sane. For instance, she gazed long at the son of Mansour, 
 who, half reclining on his mule, marched by the side of the 
 litter, surrounded by his slaves, slowly smoking Persian to- 
 bacco in his jasmine pipe. One of the servants having filled 
 the pipe too full, he dealt him a box on the ear. " Mistress," 
 cried Cafour, " do you see that old man buried in a cushion, 
 with his feet in slippers ? He is a Jew, mistress ; beware of 
 him ; he would beat us for a douro, and sell us for a sequin." 
 Leila laughed, while Omar flew into a passion and threatened 
 the negress. To style a man who counted his piastres by 
 millions an old man and a Jew was indeed the act of an idiot. 
 What person in his right mind would have dared to talk thus ? 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 283 
 
 It was soon the turn of Abdallah, who was reviewing the car- 
 avan. He had put on his war-dress, and every one admired 
 the grace of the young chief. His white burnous floated in 
 long folds ; his Damascus pistols and silver-hilted cangiar 
 glittered in his belt; and a red and yellow silk turban over- 
 shadowed his eyes, and added to the fierceness of his glance. 
 How beautiful he was ! All hearts went out toward him, and 
 his very mare seemed proud of carrying such a master. Ha- 
 mama tossed her serpentine head and reed-like ears ; her 
 dilated nostrils breathed forth fire ; on seeing her start, vault, 
 stop short, and bound forward, it seemed as if she and her 
 rider were but one. As the son of Yusuf paused near the lit- 
 ter, a camel-driver could not help saying to Cafour, " Look, 
 child ; do you see such beauty among your coarse Egyptians 
 or in your Maghreb ?" 
 
 " Look, mistress," cried the negress, leaning over the camel's 
 neck ; " see these fine clothes, elegant air, tapering fingers, and 
 cast-down eyes ! Pretty bird, why don't you look at us ?" said 
 she to Abdallah. " Oh, I know ; it is a woman in disguise 
 the virgin of the tribe. Driver, tell him to come up here ; he 
 belongs here with us." 
 
 " Silence, infidel !" exclaimed Abdallah, losing his patience. 
 "Must you have a ring through your lips to stop your ser- 
 pent's tongue ?" 
 
 " It is a woman," said Cafour, laughing loudly ; " a man 
 does not avenge himself by insults. Come, women are made 
 to love each other. You are handsome, and so am I, but my 
 mistress is the handsomest of the three. Look !" 
 
 The eye is quicker than the thought. Abdallah raised his 
 eyes to the litter. Cafour playfully laid hold of her mistress's 
 veil, the frightened Leila drew back, the string broke, and the 
 bourko fell. Leila uttered a cry and covered her face with 
 one hand, while with the other she boxed the ears of the ne- 
 
284 Fairy Book. 
 
 gress, who began to cry. The whole passed like a flash of 
 lightning. 
 
 " How beautiful she is !" thought the son of Mansour. " I 
 must have her." 
 
 " Glory to Him who created her, and created her so per- 
 fect !" murmured the son of Yusuf. 
 
 Who can tell the pain and pleasure that a moment can 
 contain ? Who can tell how this fleeting vision entered and 
 filled Abdallah's soul ? The caravan went on, but the Bed- 
 ouin remained motionless. Leila had hidden herself in her 
 veil, yet a woman stood smiling before the son of Yusuf. He 
 closed his eyes, yet, despite himself, he saw a brow as white as 
 ivory, cheeks as blooming as the tulip, and tresses blacker 
 than ebony falling on a gazelle-like neck, like the date-branch 
 laden with golden fruit. A pair of lips like a thread of scarlet 
 parted to call him ; a pair of large eyes gazed at him eyes 
 surrounded with a bluish ring, and sparkling with a lustre 
 softer than that of the violet moist with dew. Abdallah felt 
 his heart escaping him ; he buried his face in his hands and 
 burst into tears. 
 
 The caravan continued its march, and old Hafiz, who 
 brought up the rear, soon found himself by the side of his 
 nephew. Astonished at the silence and inaction of the young 
 chief, he approached him, and, touching his arm, " Something 
 new has happened, has there not ?" he asked. 
 
 Abdallah started, and, recovering himself like a man 
 aroused from a dream, " Yes, my father," he answered in a 
 dejected tone. 
 
 " The enemy is at hand !" cried Hafiz, with sparkling eyes ; 
 "you have seen him! Glory to God, our guns are about to 
 speak !" 
 
 " No one threatens us ; the danger is not there." 
 
 " What is the matter then, my son ?" said the old man, anx- 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 285 
 
 iously. "Are you sick? have you a fever? You know that 
 I am skilled in the art of healing." 
 
 " That is not it : at our first halt I will tell you all." 
 " You frighten me," said Hafiz j " if it is neither danger nor 
 sickness that disturbs you, some evil passion must be troub- 
 ling your soul ! Take care, my son ; with God's aid the foe is 
 defeated, and with God's aid sickness is cured : there is but 
 one enemy against which there is no defense, and that enemy 
 is our own heart." 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE SULTAN OF CANDAHAR. 
 
 WHEN the caravan halted, Abdallah took his uncle aside. 
 Hafiz seated himself on his carpet and began to smoke, with- 
 out uttering a word. The young chief, wrapped in his cloak, 
 stretched himself on the ground, and long remained motion- 
 less. Suddenly he started up, and, kissing the old man's 
 hand, " My uncle," said he, " I implore the protection of God. 
 What God wills must come ; there is no strength nor power 
 but in Him." And, in an agitated voice, he related the vision 
 which had troubled him. 
 
 " Oh, my son," said the shepherd, with a sigh, " thou art 
 punished for not hearkening to our words. Happy is he who 
 chooses a virtuous and obedient wife from among his tribe, 
 with the sole desire of perpetuating the name of his father. 
 Woe to him who suffers his soul to be taken in the snares of 
 a strange woman ! Can any thing good come out of Egypt ? 
 All the women there, since Joseph's time, have been dissolute 
 and treacherous, worthy daughters of Zuleika !"* 
 
 " Treachery had naught to do with it, my uncle ; it was 
 wholly the work of chance." 
 
 * The name given by the Arabs to Potiphar's wife. 
 
286 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Do not believe it, my nephew ; there is no such thing as 
 chance with these cunning fishers for men's hearts, who spread 
 their nets every where." 
 
 " She loves me, then !" exclaimed the youth, starting up j 
 " but no, my uncle, you are mistaken. In two days we shall 
 be at Taif ; in two days we shall be separated forever, yet I 
 feel that I shall always love her !" 
 
 " Yes, you will love her, but she will forget you for the 
 first jewel from the hand of her new master. Your heart 
 serves her as a plaything ; when the whim of the moment has 
 passed, she will break it without remorse. Have your for- 
 gotten what the Koran says of that imperfect and capricious 
 being who is brought up among ornaments and jewels ? * The 
 reason of women is folly, and their religion love. Like the 
 flowers, they are the delight of the eyes and the joy of the 
 senses, but they are poisoned blossoms ; woe to him who 
 draws near them ; he will soon have a winding-sheet for his 
 raiment !' Believe in my experience ; I have seen more fam- 
 ilies destroyed by women than by wan The more generous 
 a man is, the greater is his danger. Do you not know the 
 story of the Sultan of Candahar, who was a true believer, 
 though he lived in the days of ignorance before the coming 
 of Mohammed, and a sage, though he sat on a throne ? He 
 undertook to gather together all the maxims of human pru- 
 dence, in order to leave to his children an inheritance worthy 
 of him. With this end, the philosophers of the Indies had 
 written a library, which he took with him every where, and 
 which ten camels scarce sufficed to carry. * Reduce all this 
 science to first principles,' said he. It was done, and but a 
 camel's load remained. This was still too much. A number 
 of aged Brahmins, chosen by the king, reduced this abridg- 
 ment of long experience first to ten volumes, then to five, and 
 then to a single one, which was offered to the sultan in a box 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 287 
 
 of velvet and gold. The prince had reigned long, and life 
 had few secrets from him. He took the book, and began to 
 blot out all that was self-evident and therefore unnecessary. 
 1 What is the danger that threatens my sons ?' thought he ; 
 * not avarice, for that is the malady of the old ; nor ambition, 
 for that is the virtue of princes. I will strike out all this. But 
 at last he came to a more violent passion. He was so forci- 
 bly struck by the truth of an adage that he threw the book 
 into the fire, and bequeathed this maxim alone to his chil- 
 dren, calling it the key to the treasure of life : ' All women 
 are false above all, the one that loves thee !' Such was the 
 adage. Wouldst thou, my son, be more prudent than this in- 
 fidel, more enlightened than Solomon, or wiser than the Proph- 
 et? No; believe me, the beauty of woman is like the scab- 
 bard of the sabre a glittering covering that hides death. Do 
 not go to meet thy destruction. Think of God, preserve thy- 
 self for thy old and true friends, and, if more is needed to 
 move thee, have pity on thy mother and old Hafiz." 
 
 "Thou art right," said Abdallah, sadly, as he stretched 
 himself on the ground, with his burnous for a pillow. For 
 the first time he did not believe his uncle's words ; for the 
 first time, too, the four-leaved clover was forgotten. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE ATTACK. 
 
 NIGHT is an antidote to fatigue and a poison to sorrow. 
 The son of Yusuf rose with a mind more diseased than the 
 night before. Struck with incurable madness, he no longer 
 felt himself the master of his will or his movements ; it was 
 the delirium of fever, the dejection of despair. Despite him- 
 self, the fatal litter attracted him ; he hastened to it, then 
 turned and fled, pursued by those terrible yet charming eyes. 
 
288 Fairy Book. 
 
 If he saw from afar a horseman approaching the palanquin- 
 if the son of Mansour turned toward the two women, he spur- 
 red on his horse as if about to attack an enemy, then sud- 
 denly paused, daring neither to draw back nor advance. The 
 whole morning he tortured his horse. Panting and covered 
 with foam, Hamama bounded forward under the spur which 
 tore her sides, astonished at not understanding her master 
 and sharing his madness. 
 
 The shepherd cast withering glances toward the litter. 
 Leila had thrown herself back in the corner, and covered her 
 head with her veil, and no one was to be seen but Cafour, 
 spiritless and mute as a wet bird. More tranquil in this re- 
 spect, Hafiz turned to look for his nephew, and saw him wan- 
 dering at random in the desert. Every thing about him be- 
 trayed a diseased mind. Hafiz spurred his horse toward 
 Abdallah. " Cheer up, my nephew !" he cried. " Courage ! 
 We are men in order to suffer; we are Mussulmen in order 
 to submit to fate." 
 
 " I am stifling," answered the youth ; " I am conquered by 
 the malady that is preying upon me. Any thing any thing, 
 my uncle, rather than what I suffer ! Let danger come let 
 the enemy draw near ; I wish to fight and to die !" 
 
 " Mad wishes and guilty words," replied the old man, stern- 
 ly. " God is the master of life and death. Beware lest he 
 grant thy prayer ; it is sufficient punishment that God should 
 give us what we ask him in our folly. What is that?" he 
 added, leaping from his horse, and carefully examining the 
 ground. " These are the prints of horses' feet ; there are no 
 camels among them. An armed band has passed this way. 
 The marks are fresh ; the enemy is not far off. Do you not 
 feel that your passion is destroying us ? You, our leader, have 
 noticed nothing ; you are leading us to death." 
 
 The two companions looked about them, but saw nothing 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 289 
 
 but the desert. They were passing through a desolate coun- 
 try. The road wound among prodigious blocks of reddish 
 granite, strewed over the sands like crumbling ruins. The 
 earth was full of gaping crevices, the beds of dried-up tor- 
 rents and deep caves graves open for the traveler. There 
 was not a bird in the air, not a gazelle in the distance, not 
 a black speck in the horizon ; with a steel-like sky above 
 their heads, and the silence of death around them, attacked 
 there, their only hope was in their sabres and God. 
 
 Hafiz ran to the head of the caravan. Each one fell in 
 line and was as silent as in a night-march ; naught was to be 
 heard but the crackling of the sand under the feet of the 
 camels. After an hour's march an hour which seemed in- 
 terminable they reached a hill which it was necessary to 
 turn. Hafiz went in advance ; he ascended the hill, and, 
 leaving his horse half way from the top, crept on his belly 
 among the rocks. After gazing long, he noiselessly descend- 
 ed, put his horse to the gallop, and reached Abdallah's side, 
 his face as calm as at his departure. " There are white tents 
 in the distance," said he. " They are not Bedouins, but Ar- 
 nauts from Djiddah. They are numerous, and are awaiting 
 us ; we have been betrayed. No matter ; we will sell our 
 skin more dearly than they will care to buy it. Forward, my 
 son, and do your duty." And, calling six of the bravest of 
 the company, Hafiz loaded his gun and again took the way to 
 the height. 
 
 Abdallah had just reached the head of the column when a 
 white smoke appeared from a rock, a bullet whizzed through 
 the air, and a camel fell. Great confusion instantly prevailed 
 in the caravan ; the camels fell back, rushing against and 
 overthrowing each other ; the drivers fled to the rear, and the 
 horsemen rushed to the front. It seemed like a forest shaken 
 by the wind. The moans of the camels and neighing of the 
 
 N 
 
290 Fairy Book. 
 
 horses mingled with the shouts of the men. In the disorder, 
 a handful of robbers, whose red vests, white drawers, and 
 broad girdles easily showed them to be Arnauts, fell upon the 
 litter and hurried it away with shouts of joy. It was in vain 
 that Abdallah and his friends attempted to charge on them ; 
 the sharp-shooters in ambush felled them on the way. Thrice 
 Abdallah spurred his horse against his invisible foe ; thrice 
 he was forced to return, his comrades falling around him. 
 
 Abdallah trembled with rage ; by his side, and not less ex- 
 cited, was Omar, rending his clothes Omar, whose passion 
 made him forget all prudence, and who thought of nothing 
 but the treasure that was snatched from him. " Forward, my 
 brother !" he cried. Both were reining up their horses for a 
 last effort, when several musket-shots followed each other rap- 
 idly. The Arnauts had forgotten old Hafiz, who suddenly 
 came upon tfyem from above, and shot them down without 
 pity. 
 
 The road clear, the brothers rushed forward, followed by 
 Hafiz. " Gently, my son," cried he to Abdallah ; " spare your 
 horse ; we have time." 
 
 " Where is Leila, my uncle ? They are carrying her off , 
 she is lost." 
 
 " Old fool," said Omar, " do you think that these robbers 
 will wait for us ? Twenty douros to him who brings down the 
 dromedary !" 
 
 One of the Bedouins raised his gun, and, taking aim, fired, 
 at the risk of killing the two women. The shot struck the 
 shoulder of the animal, which fell with his precious burden. 
 
 " Well done, young man," said Hafiz, sarcastically, to the 
 Bedouin. " The Arnauts will thank you ; you have rid them 
 of the only obstacle to their flight. Now the sultana is lost." 
 
 Hafiz had judged but too rightly. The robbers surrounded 
 the litter and tore from it a woman wrapped in a mantle, 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 291 
 
 in whom Abdallah recognized Leila ; then, by the command of 
 a magnificently-dressed chief, a man took hen behind him and 
 set off at full gallop. At this sight the son of Yusuf darted 
 upon the enemy like an eagle from the clouds. " Dog ! son 
 of a dog !" he cried, " show your face, if you are a man ! Is it 
 to fly the better that you have so fine a horse ?" And he fired 
 his pistol at him. 
 
 " Wait, son of a Jew !" said the captain, turning round, " my 
 sabre is thirsting for your blood." 
 
 " Forward, children of powder !" cried old Hafiz. " Charge, 
 my sons ; death before disgrace ! Charge ! Bullets do not 
 kill. What is to be will be, according to God's will." 
 
 Abdallah and the Arnaut rushed upon each other at full 
 speed. The captain advanced with a pistol in one hand and 
 a sword in the other. Abdallah had nothing but a dagger, 
 which he held in his hand as he leaned forward, almost con- 
 cealed by the mare's neck. The Arnaut fired and missed. 
 The horses met with a violent shock, and the riders engaged 
 hand to hand. But Abdallah had the strength and rage of a 
 lion ; he seized his rival around the waist, shook him with a 
 terrible grasp, and plunged his dagger into his breast. The 
 blood spouted forth like wine from a pierced skin, and the 
 Arnaut bounded up and reeled in his saddle. Abdallah 
 snatched him from his horse and threw him on the ground 
 as if to trample on him. " There is one that will drink no 
 more," said Hafiz, leaping on the body to despoil it. 
 
 The fall of the captain, the swords of the Bedouins, who fell 
 on the enemy like bees robbed of their honey, and the cries 
 of the camel-drivers, who rushed thither with their guns, soon 
 decided the day. The Arnaut troop disappeared amid dust 
 and smoke, the bravest remaining in the rear and firing their 
 pistols to protect a retreat which it was not dared to molest. 
 The victory was dearly bought ; more than one was wounded. 
 
292 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Well, my brother," said Omar, with flashing eyes, " shall 
 we stand here while these robbers are carrying off our prop- 
 erty?" 
 
 " Forward, my friends !" cried Abdallah. " One more effort ; 
 we must have the sultana." 
 
 " She is here, my lord, she is here," answered several voices. 
 
 Abdallah turned abruptly and saw Leila, who had just been 
 extricated from the litter, covered with dust and blood, with 
 pale face and disheveled hair, yet more beautiful than ever 
 despite this disorder. " Save me !" she cried, stretching out 
 her arms, "save me ! my only hope is in you." 
 
 " Who was it, then, that those knaves carried off?" asked 
 Hafiz. 
 
 " It was Cafour," said Leila ; " she had put on my mantle 
 and wrapped me in her burnous." 
 
 " Well played," said a Bedouin, laughing ; " those sons of 
 dogs have taken an ape for a woman." 
 
 " Let us begone quickly," cried the son of Mansour, feast- 
 ing his eyes on Leila. " Let us begone ; the day is ours. 
 Come, madam, do not mourn for the slave," said he to Leila. 
 " For two hundred douros I can buy just such another at Djid- 
 dah, which I shall be happy to offer you." 
 
 " Let us go," echoed the camel-drivers ; " the band is large, 
 and will return to attack us during the night." 
 
 Hafiz looked at Abdallah. " What !" said the young man, 
 moved with pity, " shall we leave the negress in the hands of 
 these wretches ?" 
 
 " What is written is written," replied Omar, who had lost 
 all desire to fight. " Is it wise, my brother, to risk your life 
 and that of these brave Mussulmen for a heathen whom we 
 can replace in two days ? We must go ; we are expected at 
 Taif. Are you about to quit us when we are in need of 
 you ?" 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 293 
 
 " Abdallah," said the young woman, raising her beautiful 
 eyes to him, " do not abandon me !" 
 
 The son of Yusuf placed his hand on his heart, which he 
 felt faltering. " No, no," he exclaimed ; " it shall not be said 
 that a Bedouin forfeits his word. If a sack of coffee had been 
 intrusted to me, I would not leave it in the hands of these 
 robbers, and shall I abandon to them one of God's creatures ? 
 Are there any men here ? Who will come with me ?" There 
 was silence, and one of the Beni Amurs stepped forth. 
 
 "There are six of us wounded, and the sultana is saved," 
 said he. " We have kept our engagement." 
 
 " Come, my child," said Hafiz, ironically, " I see that we 
 are the only two here that have madness in our veins. Let 
 us go. With God's aid, we will recover the child." 
 
 " Adieu, my brother," said Abdallah, embracing Omar j 
 " take good care of the stranger. If you do not see me in 
 two days, tell the sherif that I have done my duty, and my 
 mother not to weep for me." And, without turning his head, 
 the son of Yusuf took the way to the desert, accompanied by 
 Hafiz, who unclasped his burnous, and threw over his shoul- 
 ders a camel-driver's cloak. " We need the skin of the fox 
 instead of the lion," said he, laughing. 
 
 Omar followed them with his eyes, and when he saw them 
 disappear, " If they do not return," thought he, " it will be no 
 great matter. I shall make a better bargain with the sherif 
 than with that youth. It is not easy to dazzle or deceive 
 these madcaps who never reason. Hurrah for men that cal- 
 culate ! they are always to be bought, and through their wis- 
 dom we get them at half price." 
 
 As he went on, Abdallah heard behind him the shouts of 
 the camel-drivers and the noise of the moving caravan. He 
 was quitting all that he loved for a strange child. More than 
 once he was inclined to look back, but he dared not brave his 
 
294 Fairy Book. 
 
 uncle, who, his eyes fixed upon him, seemed to read the depths 
 of his heart. When the last sound died away in the distance, 
 Abdallah paused in spite of himself. His horse turned round, 
 snuffing the wind, and anxious to rejoin its friends. Hafiz 
 laid his hand on the young man's shoulder : " My son," said 
 he, "your road lies before you." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 AFTER an hour's march they came in sight of the Arnaut 
 tents, until then hidden by a rising ground. The camp was in 
 the midst of a small tract of brushwood, where the cattle had 
 been turned out to browse. " Let us stop here," said Hafiz, 
 approaching a rock illumined by the setting sun ; " we have 
 six hours before us." 
 
 The horses tethered, the old man set to work to pick up 
 the dead branches, and tie them in small bundles, with car- 
 touches and cotton inside. When he had finished his task, he 
 took from a bag a piece of dried meat and a handful of dates ; 
 and, having eaten them, lighted his pipe, and began to smoke 
 tranquilly. " Now, my nephew," said he, " I am going to 
 sleep. Lovers do not need repose, but old men are not like 
 lovers. Wake me when the Great Bear and her cubs are 
 yonder in the horizon." A few moments after he was asleep, 
 while Abdallah, his face buried in his hands, mused on her 
 whom he had saved, and was never more to behold. 
 
 Hafiz awakened of his own accord just before the time 
 appointed, and looked tenderly at his young companion. 
 " Well, my child," said he, " you wished for danger that you 
 might forget your folly, and God has granted your prayer. 
 Have courage ; two friends that cling together will come out 
 safe from the fire." 
 
 On nearing the camp, the Bedouins glided among the bri 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 295 
 
 ers and bushes. By creeping on their hands and knees be- 
 tween the horses' legs, they assured themselves that it was 
 defenseless. No sentinels had been posted except at a dis- 
 tant point ; all were asleep ; the fires had gone out, and only 
 one tent was lighted. They noiselessly crept toward it ; be- 
 ing in the shade, they could see without being seen. " List- 
 en," said Hafiz ; " perhaps we shall learn what has become 
 of the child." 
 
 Three men, better dressed than soldiers, were seated on 
 carpets, smoking long pipes, around a table* on which coffee 
 was served. A lamp in the middle dimly lighted their faces. 
 All three were talking warmly. 
 
 " A bad day's work !" said one of the officers. " Who would 
 have thought that the captain would have let himself be killed 
 by a camel-driver !" 
 
 " My dear Hassan," answered the youngest of the party, 
 " what is one man's misfortune is another's good luck. Since 
 the captain is dead, the command belongs to us." 
 
 " Very well, my dear Mohammed," returned Hassan ; " but 
 which of us three shall be chief?" 
 
 " I will sell my chance," said the one who had not yet 
 spoken, and who stood with his back to Abdallah. " It is 
 said that the woman we have taken is a relative of the Pacha 
 of Egypt. Give me the sultana, and I will return to Epirus 
 to live at my ease. A graybeard like me cares little for a 
 woman, but the sherif will think differently. To him the pris- 
 oner will be well worth five thousand douros." 
 
 " Done," said Hassan. " Kara Shitan, I surrender to you 
 my share of the prize." 
 
 " But I do not," said Mohammed ; " I am twenty-five, and 
 do not sell women. The idea of marrying a sultana pleases 
 
 * These tables, called kursi, are a species of benches from fifteen to eighteen inches 
 high. 
 
296 Fairy Book. 
 
 me. I should not be sorry to be the pacha's cousin. My 
 share of the command for the princess. I have time enough 
 to become captain." 
 
 " We can arrange it," said the graybeard ; " the sword to 
 one, the woman to another, and the money to me." 
 
 " So be it," said Hassan. " I will give two thousand 
 douros." 
 
 " But what will Mohammed give ?" 
 
 " Mohammed will promise any thing you like," replied the 
 young man, laughing. " He who has nothing but hope in his 
 purse does not stop to haggle." 
 
 "You have a black mare ; I will take her." 
 
 " Old Jew," cried Mohammed, " dare to touch my mare and 
 I will break your head." 
 
 " Then you shall not have the sultana," returned the gray- 
 beard. 
 
 "Who will hinder me?" 
 
 " A man that fears you little," cried Kara Shitan ; and, go- 
 ing to the end of the tent, he touched the curtain that divided 
 it in two. " The sultana is here ; take her if you can," he 
 said. 
 
 Mohammed drew his dagger. Hassan threw himself be- 
 tween the rivals, opposing prayers and counsels to threats and 
 insults, without succeeding in imposing silence on the oppo- 
 nents. 
 
 " We have them," whispered Hafiz in Abdallah's ear. " I 
 am going to draw them from the tent ; take the child, go with 
 the horses, and wait for me at the Red Rocks till daybreak." 
 
 The old man crept to his bundles of sticks, and slipped 
 them here and there under the most distant tents, lighting the 
 end of a match which projected from each. Manwhile Has- 
 san had pacified the two chiefs by dint of persuasions and 
 promises. Kara Shitan delightedly thrust in his girdle a mag- 
 
Abdullah; or, The Four-feaved Clove*. 297 
 
 nificent sabre, which Mohammed eyed with regret. " Well," 
 said he, " since I have bought the sultana, give her to me." 
 
 " It is just," said the graybeard. He called the stranger, 
 the curtain rose, and a veiled woman came forth, wrapped in 
 an Egyptian mantle. The young Arnaut approached her, and 
 said, in a softened voice, " Madam, war has its rights ; you no 
 longer belong to the sherif, but to me ; I have bought you 
 with my gold ; if necessary, I would have bought you with my 
 blood." 
 
 " It is a dear bargain," said a mocking voice which made 
 Abdallah start. 
 
 " Beauty is above all price," said Mohammed. " What 
 treasure could pay for your charms ?" 
 
 " Two purses would be enough," replied the veiled lady. 
 
 " Madam, that was not the opinion of the sherif. I am sure 
 that the Commander of the Faithful w r ould give half his wealth 
 to be in my place, with the beautiful Egyptian by his side." 
 
 " If the caravan is still on its way, the beautiful Egyptian 
 will be at Taif to-morrow," returned the stranger. 
 
 " Who are you, then ?" asked Mohammed. For the answer, 
 the veil fell, and showed the ebony face and white teeth of 
 Cafour. The negress made so strange a figure that the old 
 Arnaut could not help bursting into a laugh, which raised to 
 its height the fury of his companion. 
 
 " Woe to him who has trifled with me !" cried Mohammed, 
 looking at Kara Shitan ; " he shall pay me sooner or later. 
 As for you, dog, you shall carry it no farther." And, blind 
 with rage, he drew a pistol and fired at the child. The ne- 
 gress staggered, uttering a cry of pain and terror. At the 
 same instant a shot was heard, and Mohammed reeled and 
 fell. Abdallah was in the tent with a pistol in his hand. 
 
 " To arms !" cried the chiefs, putting their hand to their belt 
 Swifter than lightning, Cafour overturned the table and lamp 
 
 N 2 
 
298 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 with her foot, and Abdallah felt a little hand grasp his and 
 draw him to the back of the tent. To enter the women's 
 apartments and lift a corner of the canvas was an easy thing 
 for Cafour, who seemed to see in the dark. Once outside, 
 Abdallah took the child in his arms and fled to the desert. 
 
 The voice of the chiefs had roused the whole band, but on 
 rushing into the tent they could find no one. " To horse !" 
 cried Hassan ; " dead or alive, the traitor shall not escape us." 
 
 All at once a burning torch fell in the midst of the brush. 
 The frightened horses rushed into the plain, and at the same 
 time the cry of fire was raised. The conflagration spread in 
 every direction, while at a distance shots were fired at the 
 sentinels. " Come, my children," said the captain, " it is an 
 attack ; the enemy is at hand. Forward !" 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 299 
 
 Hassan had his ear to the ground. " Allah is great ; Ab- 
 dallah is saved !" he exclaimed, when he heard the enemy 
 coming toward him. He plunged into a thicket and waited 
 for the Arnauts to pass ; then, leaping upon a stray horse, he 
 galloped into the desert, without troubling himself about the 
 balls that whistled round him. 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 THE SILVER LEAF. 
 
 ABDALLAH ran with his burden to the rock where he had 
 tethered the horses. He seated Cafour before him on the 
 saddle, and gave full rein to Hamama, who flew over the 
 ground, followed by the horse of Hafiz. An hour passed be- 
 fore the son of Yusuf dared stop to listen. Becoming more 
 tranquil in proportion as he advanced, he at last slackened 
 his speed, and tried to steer his course in the darkness toward 
 the place where he was to meet his uncle. 
 
 During this rapid flight Cafour had remained mute and 
 motionless, pressed close to Abdallah. When she understood 
 that the danger was passed, she called him her savior. "Were 
 you too a prisoner ?" she whispered. 
 
 " No, thank God," answered Abdallah. 
 
 "Then why did you come among the tents of your enemies?" 
 
 " Why ?" said the son of Yusuf, smiling ; " to save you, of 
 course." 
 
 The answer surprised Cafour. She mused for some time. 
 " Why did you wish to save me ?" she said. 
 
 " Because you had been confided to my keeping." 
 
 " Keep me always, Abdallah ; no one will protect me like 
 you." 
 
 "I am not your master," answered the young chief; "you 
 belong to Leila." 
 
300 Fairy Book. 
 
 Cafour sighed and said no more. On reaching the Red 
 Rocks, Abdallah lifted her from the saddle. She uttered a 
 cry; which she instantly smothered. " It is nothing, master ; 
 I am wounded," she whispered, and she stretched out her 
 bleeding arm. The ball had grazed the shoulder, tearing the 
 flesh. Abdallah examined the wound by the light of the 
 stars, then sponged and bandaged it, while Cafour looked at 
 him with astonishment. 
 
 " Since I do not belong to you, why do you bind up my 
 wound ?" she asked. 
 
 " Silence, heathen ! you know not the words of the Book of 
 Truth : ' Serve God, and associate no creature with him ; show 
 kindness unto parents, and relations, and orphans, and the 
 poor, and your neighbor who is of kin to you, and also your 
 neighbor who is a stranger, and to your familiar companion, 
 and the traveler, and the captives whom your right hands 
 shall possess ; for God loveth neither pride, nor vanity, nor 
 avarice.' " 
 
 " That is beautiful/' said Cafour ; " it was a great God who 
 said it." 
 
 " Hush, and go to sleep," interrupted the young man ; " the 
 road will be long to-morrow, and you need rest." As he 
 spoke, Abdallah took the child on his lap, and, wrapping her 
 in his burnous, supported her head with his arm. Cafour 
 soon fell asleep. At first she tossed about and talked in her 
 sleep, while her heart beat so loudly that Abdallah could hear 
 it. By degrees she grew calmer, her limbs relaxed, and she 
 slept so sweetly that she could hardly be heard to breathe. 
 The soldier gently rocked the young girl whom the fate of 
 war had given him for a day, thinking, as he gazed on her, of 
 his mother and all that she had suffered for him. He re- 
 mained thus through the night, enjoying a peace to which he 
 had before been a stranger. A deep silence reigned around 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 301 
 
 him on the earth ; not a breath of wind or a sound was stir- 
 ring ; in the heavens all was motionless save that luminous 
 army which for centuries has obeyed the command of the 
 Eternal. This repose of all things refreshed Abdallah's soul, 
 and he forgot both the dangers of the day and the anxiety of 
 the morrow. 
 
 A faint streak of light in the horizon had scarcely an- 
 nounced the dawn, when the cry of a jackal was heard in the 
 distance. The sound was thrice repeated. Abdallah echoed 
 it. His cry was answered, and a panting horse bounded to 
 the rock Hafiz was safe. 
 
 " Well, nephew," said he, laughing, " the trick has succeed- 
 ed ; they are smoked out like so many rats. Forward ! we 
 must not make them wait for us at Taif." 
 
 A red light streaked the east. Abdallah spread the carpet 
 of prayer, and the two comrades, with their faces turned to- 
 ward Mecca, thanked the All-Powerful who had rescued them 
 from peril. 
 
 " Abdallah," said Cafour, falling on her knees before her 
 savior, "you are my god ; I will worship no other." 
 
 " Silence, heathen !" cried the son of Yusuf. " There is but 
 one God, who has no associate the Eternal, the Incompara- 
 ble ; it is he whom you must worship and adore." 
 
 "Then your God shall be my God," said Cafour. " I will 
 not have a god that leaves me to be murdered." 
 
 " Your god," said Abdallah, " is deaf, dumb, and blind ; it 
 is some piece of wood rotting in the Maghreb." 
 
 " No," interrupted the child, " my god was with me, and did 
 not help me. Here," she added, taking from her hair a tuft 
 of feathers, " take it ; break it in pieces ; I want it no longer." 
 
 " Is that bunch of feathers your god ?" said Hafiz, smiling. 
 
 " Yes," replied the child, " it is the god my mother gave 
 me when she sold me. It is pretty ; look at it." And, pull- 
 
3O2 
 
 ing out and breaking the feathers while she loaded them with 
 reproaches, she took from the bunch a thin piece of silver, 
 which she gave to Abdallah. 
 
 j' My uncle," cried the latter, in a transport of joy, " see 
 what has come to us from the Maghreb ! God has sent us 
 the clover-leaf. You have saved me, my uncle. Glory and 
 gratitude to God !" 
 
 And the two friends, intoxicated with joy, embraced the 
 child, who, not understanding their caresses, gazed at them 
 with tears in her eyes, astonished and happy at feeling her- 
 self beloved. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE SECRET. 
 
 WHEN the two friends at last perceived the caravan wind- 
 ing like a huge serpent in the distance, night was approach- 
 ing ; the last beams of the sun shone on the white houses of 
 Taif, gleaming amid the gardens like eglantines in a thicket. 
 They were quitting the empire of the sands ; the peril was 
 overcome and the journey finished. At the sight of Taif, Ab- 
 dallah was seized with bitter sorrow. Restless, troubled, be- 
 reft of his reason, one thought filled his soul Leila was lost 
 to him. The Bedouins received their companions with cries 
 of joy. Omar embraced his brother with the greatest tender- 
 ness. Abdallah remained cold to all these caresses ; his only 
 emotion was on parting with Cafour. The poor girl threw 
 herself into her savior's arms, and nothing could tear her 
 from them, until at last Abdallah was forced harshly to com- 
 mand her to return to her mistress. She departed in tears. 
 The son of Yusuf fixed a longing gaze on her ; he had broken 
 the last link that bound him to Leila. 
 
 Cafour was approaching the litter when Omar called to her, 
 
Abdullah; or, The Four- leaved Clover. 303 
 
 , showing her two articles which he held in his hand. " Come 
 hither, child of Satan," he said, in a half-jeering, half-threaten- 
 ing tone ; " what is the difference betwen this whip and this 
 necklace of five strings of pearls ?" 
 
 " The same difference that there is between your brother 
 and you," answered the negress. " One is as beautiful as tht, 
 rainbow ;; the other is fit for nothing but to kindle the fires of 
 the pit." 
 
 " You have your father's wit," returned Omar, calmly ; " it 
 will not be hard, therefore, for you to choose. Do you want 
 the necklace ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said the negress, with sparkling eyes. " What 
 am I to do for it ?" 
 
 " Very little. In an hour you will be in the harem ; every 
 one will wish to see you, and nothing will be easier than for 
 you to gain admittance to the sherif 's wife, the Sultana Fati- 
 ma. Repeat to her, word for word, what I shall tell you, and 
 the necklace is yours." 
 
 " Give it to me," said Cafour, stretching out her hand ; " I 
 am listening." 
 
 "While you are amusing the sultana with your ape's face 
 and kittenish grimaces, whisper to her, * Mistress, I have a 
 message to you from a friend. " Moon of May," he says, " a 
 new moon is approaching. If you do not wish her to dis- 
 turb the serenity of your nights, keep the sun in the sign of 
 Gemini. Importune, urge, and command. Take for your 
 motto, Love is like madness ; every thing is forgiven it." ' 
 
 " Repeat the last sentence," said Cafour. " Good ; I know 
 it now: 'Love is like madness; every thing is forgiven it.' 
 The sultana shall have your message. One word only : can 
 these words do any harm to your brother ?" 
 
 " None," replied the son of Mansour, suppressing a smile. 
 Abdallah has nothing whatever to do with it ; he is threat 
 
304 Fairy Book. 
 
 ened by no danger ; and even if he were in peril, these words 
 would insure his safety. Farewell ; speak of this to no one 
 and if you obey me, rely on my generosity. The date is ripe, 
 who will gather it ?" he added to himself. " I am rid of the 
 handsome Abdallah ; it remains for me now to second the 
 sultana's jealousy and add to the enemies of the sherif. The 
 game is not without danger ; but, cost what it may, Leila 
 must quit the harem ; once outside of it, she is mine." 
 
 On rejoining her mistress, Cafour was surprised to see her 
 pale and haggard, her eyes glittering with fever. " What is 
 the matter ?" said the child. " Are you weeping when your 
 happiness is about to begin ? when you will have four slaves 
 to wait on you, robes of velvet and satin, Cashmere scarfs, slip- 
 pers embroidered with gold and pearls, enamel necklaces, dia- 
 mond tiaras, and ruby and sapphire bracelets ? What more 
 can a woman desire ? You were so happy at coming here on 
 quitting Egypt, why have you changed ?" 
 
 " You can not understand me you are only a child," said 
 Leila, in a languishing voice. 
 
 " I am no longer a child, mistress," returned the negress. 
 " I am almost twelve years old ; I am a woman ; you can trust 
 in me." 
 
 " Ah ! my poor Cafour," cried the Egyptian, sighing, " if you 
 would preserve your heart, keep your eyes shut. Why did I 
 see that handsome young man ? Had it not been for him, I 
 should have joyfully entered the harem ; now I shall be there 
 like the dead among the living." 
 
 " Do you love Abdallah, then ?" asked the child, touched by 
 this confidence. 
 
 " Do I love him ? Is it possible to see him without loving 
 him? Is there a more beautiful face than his in Paradise? 
 His look is so gracious, his voice so sweet, his very name is 
 perfume ! Do I love him ? Awake, my soul lives for him 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 305 
 
 alone ; asleep, my heart wakes and languishes with love ! 
 Would to God that I had been born amid the tents, with this 
 Bedouin for my brother, that I might cast myself into his arms 
 with none to despise me !" 
 
 " Go with him," said Cafour. " I will tell him to carry you 
 off." 
 
 " What are you thinking of? I am a slave ; I have a mas- 
 ter. Besides, do you think that Abdallah would ever break 
 his word? He is taking me to the sherif; would you have 
 him betray his faith ?" 
 
 "Then tell the sherif to give you Abdallah for a husband." 
 " Hush, idiot. Such a request would be the death-sentence 
 of us all." 
 
 Cafour musingly repeated to herself Omar's message ; then, 
 looking at Leila, " Mistress," said she, " if you should become 
 Abdallah's wife, and go to dwell with him amid the tents, 
 would you keep me with you ?" 
 
 " Always, child. I love you ; you shall never quit me." 
 " Should I be your slave and Abdallah's all my life ?" 
 " Of course. But of what use is such a question ?" 
 " Swear this to me," returned Cafour, in a solemn voice, 
 " and let me alone. Do not question me ; do not shake your 
 head with disdain. What do you risk in swearing what I ask ? 
 Would you sell me or send me away ?" 
 
 " No, indeed. Should it please God for me to become 
 the wife of him whom I love like my own soul, you shall al- 
 ways remain with us ; I swear it to you in the name of God, 
 the clement, the merciful, the sovereign of the worlds " 
 
 " My mistress, I am an ignorant heathen ; swear it to me 
 only by the God of Abdallah." 
 
 Talking thus, the two friends reached the harem, where 
 numerous companions awaited them. Cafour, still laughing, 
 leaped from the palanquin and ran toward a large room, bril- 
 
306 Fairy Book. 
 
 liantly lighted, and filled with tables covered with silver and 
 flowers.- Leila complained of the fatigue of the journey, and 
 retired to her chamber to weep without restraint. Useless 
 grief, powerless remedy for an ill that could not be cured ! 
 " He who is intoxicated with wine," says the sage of Shiraz, 
 " awakens during the night ; he who is intoxicated with love 
 awakens only on the morning of the resurrection !" 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE PATIENCE OF REYNARD. 
 
 ABDALLAH wished to set out the same evening, and Hafiz 
 was not less impatient. It seemed to him that by fleeing to 
 the desert, his nephew would leave anxiety and sorrow behind 
 him. But the sherif had announced that he would receive the 
 chiefs of the caravan the next day, and it was impossible to 
 decline the honor. 
 
 At an early hour they repaired to the palace. The court- 
 yard was full of Bedouins, dressed in their blue robes set off 
 by a scarlet scarf thrown across the shoulder. All wished to 
 shake hands with the brave Abdallah and the prudent Hafiz. 
 Omar talked in a low voice with the old shepherd ; for the first 
 time he complained of the dangers of the road ; for the first 
 time he reproached the sherif for having exposed so many 
 brave men to almost certain death. Hafiz approved his words, 
 and seconded them with a warmth which delighted the son 
 of Mansour. 
 
 The visiters were led by black slaves into a room covered 
 with rich carpets, and surrounded with divans of green silk 
 embroidered with gold. The walls were bare of all ornament 
 except a beautiful Turkish sabre, set with topazes and rubies, 
 a gift from the sultan. Omar pointed it out to Hafiz, who, 
 while murmuring against what he called a weakness, never- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 307 
 
 theless bowed respectfully before the Commander of the Faith- 
 ful. After receiving the salutations of all the band, the sherif 
 clapped his hands, and pipes and coffee were instantly served. 
 The Bedouins seated themselves on the ground, and each 
 smoked in silence. Abdallah started ; among the crowd of 
 servants who stood awaiting their master's orders, he had just 
 seen Cafour, who raised her hand to her throat. Whether it 
 was to him or to some other that the child made the sign, 
 he could not guess ; no one raised his eyes, least of all 
 Omar. 
 
 The descendant of the Prophet seemed buried in deep re- 
 flection. He was a noble-looking old man, whose white beard, 
 large nose, and calm eyes gave him an air of majesty. A large 
 turban, a blue robe of the finest Cashmere, and a girdle of gold 
 and purple, in which glittered a dagger covered with precious 
 stones, added to his dignity. At heart, the sherif was a sage 
 who thought of no one but himself. Intractable toward all who 
 disturbed his peace, he was the gentlest of mankind when his 
 passions and habits were let alone. Power had not spoiled 
 him ; he readily listened to the truth when it did not affect 
 himself, and suffered without complaint the most shameless 
 falsehoods of his flatterers and servants. Fastidious, a great 
 lover of stories, and a refined poet, his only weakness a weak- 
 ness natural to his age was the desire to be loved. Thanks 
 to this secret, which she had learned the very first day, the 
 beautiful Fatima had made her master the most obedient of 
 slaves j she made him submit to all her fancies by telling him 
 that a woman's caprices are the proof of her love. At sixty 
 it is easier to believe than to quarrel, and the sherif yielded to 
 avoid a storm, too happy when he was rewarded with a caress. 
 This morning, however, there was not a cloud on the horizon. 
 The Commander of the Faithful seemed in excellent humor ; 
 he smiled as he ran his fingers through his long beard, and 
 
308 Fairy Book, 
 
 looked like a man just waking from a blissful dream which he 
 would fain retain. 
 
 The second pipe finished, the sherif took up the conversa- 
 tion, and in the most gracious terms thanked the Bedouins 
 and Omar for their visit and their services. Instead of re- 
 plying to this courtesy, the son of Mansour started up like a 
 criminal struck with terror, and, prostrating himself before the 
 descendant of the Prophet, kissed his feet. 
 
 " Son of Ali and of Hassan," said he, in a broken voice, " I 
 know what the slave deserves who suffers his master's trust 
 to be violated. I know my crime, and await without com- 
 plaint the punishment reserved for me by your justice." 
 
 " Rise," said the sherif, kindly. " What is written is written. 
 God sends disaster and success by turns to men, in order that 
 he may know the believers, and choose his witnesses from 
 among you. As to the insult offered me by those wretches, 
 I shall choose the day and hour for reparation. Patience 
 with patience every thing comes in due season." 
 
 " Alas !" continued the son of Mansour, still on his knees, 
 " the attack was nothing ; my brother Abdallah and his brave 
 Bedouins repulsed the traitors. But we were surprised ; the 
 slave was for a moment in the hands of the enemy ; those 
 men without faith and honor tore off her veil, and profaned 
 with their uiiv/orthy looks that beauty which should have been 
 sacred from ail"" 
 
 " Enough !" interrupted the sherif, displeased at this tale. 
 "The care of my honor concerns me alone. Patience !" 
 
 " Patience !" exclaimed Hafiz ; " that was what the fox said 
 when he feigned death." 
 
 " What was it that the fox said ?" asked the sherif, looking 
 sternly at Hafiz, who seemed moved by any other feeling than 
 that of fear. 
 
 "There was once a fox who was growing old," said the 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 309 
 
 Bedouin, " and who abandoned the chase and all adventures 
 in order every night to visit a poultry-yard near his hole, where 
 he grew fat without trouble or danger. One night he forgot 
 how the time was passing, and when he was ready to go out, he 
 found the sun risen and every one at work. To return safe- 
 ly seemed impossible ; so, in order not to brave certain dan- 
 ger, he stretched himself by the roadside and pretended to be 
 dead, saying, ' Patience in patience there is safety.' The 
 first who passed by paid no attention to him. The second 
 turned him over with his foot to be sure that he was dead. 
 The third was a child, who amused himself by pulling out his 
 whiskers. ' Patience !' said the fox. ' The child knows not 
 what he is doing ; he does not mean to insult me. It is bet- 
 ter to suffer vexation than to run the risk of death.' Next 
 came a hunter with a gun on his shoulder. ' A fox's nail is a 
 sovereign remedy for a felon,' said he, taking out his knife. 
 ' Patience !' said the fox ; ' it is better to live with three paws 
 than to die with four ;' and he let himself be mutilated with- 
 out stirring. Next came a woman with a child on her shoul- 
 der. 'This fox's teeth will make a necklace that will pre- 
 serve my babe from the evil eye,' said she." 
 
 "I know the story," interrupted the sherif; "when the 
 mother came near, the fox flew in her face." 
 
 "My story does not say so," returned Hafiz, gravely. 
 " When once we compound with our courage, we know not 
 where to stop. The fox let himself be robbed of his teeth, 
 repeating * Patience !' and lay still till a last thief tore out his 
 heart, when he saw, but too late, that patience is the surest of 
 dangers." 
 
 " I begin to think so," said the sherif, " since a Bedouin 
 comes to my palace to tell me his foolish stories. A shep- 
 herd must be rude indeed not to understand my indulgence 
 and to insult my goodness. If the caravan was attacked 
 
3io Fairy Book. 
 
 in a safe country traversed by all the merchants, whose fault 
 was it except those who chose for their leader a child whom I 
 spare through pity? A dozen armed and resolute Bedouins 
 always cross the desert without any one daring to attack them. 
 If the Arnauts surprised you, a snare must have been laid for 
 you, into which you fell either through folly or treachery." 
 
 " My lord," cried the son of Mansour, raising his hands in 
 supplication, " you speak truly ; this was my fault. In choos- 
 ing my brother and friend for the leader of the caravan, I 
 ought to have remembered that at our age passion renders us 
 blind. Chance destroyed us. At the beginning of the jour- 
 ney the sight of the slave troubled the young man, and made 
 him forget his prudence." 
 
 "What do I hear?" cried the sherif, with flashing eyes. 
 " Is this the way that I am obeyed is this the way that I am 
 respected ? Woe to him who has trifled with me ! He shall 
 see whether I will submit to insult. Merchant, you shall be 
 punished for your imprudence, and, young man, you shall suf- 
 fer for your folly." And, calling a negro with a large sabre at 
 his side, the Commander of the Faithful pointed to Omar and 
 Abdallah, making a horizontal movement with his hand. It 
 was the sentence of death. 
 
 The Bedouins looked at each other, shuddering, but no one, 
 not even Hafiz, dared rebel against the descendant of the 
 Prophet. Omar heard the sentence without changing counte- 
 nance ; he looked around him as if to implore aid, and, rais- 
 ing his hand, made a sign to the negress which she did not 
 seem to comprehend. The son of Mansour frowned angrily. 
 " Accursed be the dervish," murmured he. " Can he have 
 told the truth? Is my confidence in the Bedouin about to 
 plunge me into this ruin? Can I have loved this madman 
 better than I thought ?" 
 
 Abdallah raised his eyes, and proudly smiled at the execu 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 311 
 
 tioner. " Poor child," said Hafiz, embracing his nephew, " I 
 have slain you." 
 
 " No, my father," replied the )t>ung man, calmly, " it is 
 God that gives life and death. Be resigned, and comfort my 
 mother. Do not pity me ; to me death is better than life." 
 Then, turning to Omar, who still kept his eyes fixed on the 
 negress, he gave him his hand. " My brother, pardon me," 
 said he, " in the name of her who watched over your child- 
 hood." And, bowing respectfully to the Commander of the 
 Faithful, he followed the executioner. 
 
 " Stop !" cried Cafour, falling at the sherif s feet. " It was 
 my fault ; it was I that snatched off my mistress's veil. Kill 
 me, but spare Abdallah." 
 
 " Drive off this daughter of a dog, and punish her till she is 
 silent," said the sherif. 
 
 " Pardon !" cried the child, as a negro was carrying her off 
 "pardon!" and with a desperate effort she tore herself 
 from the slave, leaving a piece of her dress in his hands. 
 " Pity !" she murmured, clasping the knees of the sherif, who 
 rudely repulsed her. " Pity, master ; Abdallah is innocent ; 
 he was not the guilty one." Then, suddenly spying Omar's 
 contracted features, she sprang up as if struck with lightning, 
 and, stretching her hands toward the prince, " Do not be 
 cruel," said she. " Remember that love is like madness ; ev- 
 ery thing is forgiven it." 
 
 " Stop !" cried the sherif to the executioner. " There is 
 something strange in this," thought he ; " it is the same sen- 
 tence that Fatima repeated to me this morning, and refused 
 to explain to me. Come here, child," said he to Cafour, in a 
 milder tone. "Where do these words come from do you 
 know?" 
 
 " Yes," said Cafour ; " they come from lips that open only 
 for consolation and pity." 
 
312 Fairy Book. 
 
 " Do you know the meaning of them ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Cafour, trembling as she spoke. " Abdal- 
 lah has never heard thelfe words, but Omar has long known 
 the secret of them ; question him ; he will tell you every 
 thing." 
 
 "Oh, my master," cried Omar, dragging himself to the 
 sherif s feet, and speaking in a suppressed voice, " the child 
 is right. I know these words but too well ; it was they which 
 caused my fault, and which will perhaps excuse it. When 
 you summoned me to Taif, my errand was suspected ; before 
 I could quit your palace, a mad promise was wrung from me, 
 which I have only too faithfully obeyed. I compromised the 
 slave as I had been commanded. Could I resist a will pro- 
 tected by your love ? Happy is he who can inspire such ar- 
 dent passion ; will not happiness render him indulgent ?" 
 
 While uttering these unblushing falsehoods, the son of Man- 
 sour studied the sherif's face, which resumed its serenity. 
 Omar soon ceased to supplicate the old man who held his 
 life in his hands. Sure of his victory, he began to flatter him 
 beyond measure, and, by adroit words, gradually soothed the 
 last emotions of anger in his soul. 
 
 " Rise ! I pardon you," said the sherif, at length. " I also 
 pardon this proud Bedouin, who braves me even under the 
 sword of the executioner. I have shown that I fear no one, 
 and that I know how to punish those who insult me ; it is 
 enough ; I keep the blood of my faithful followers for a better 
 occasion. Young man," he added, looking at Abdallah with 
 a kindly smile, " remember that henceforth your life belongs 
 to me ; I rely on you, as well as your friends, to avenge our 
 common insult." 
 
 Foe his sole answer, the son of Yusuf took the sherif's hand 
 and kissed it with emotion, while Hafiz burst into transports 
 of joy and gratitude. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 313 
 
 " Here !" said the Commander of the Faithful, calling Ca- 
 four ; " come hither, daughter of night ; is this all that the sul- 
 tana told you." 
 
 " No," answered the negress, boldly, putting on a mysteri- 
 ous air. " The sultana told me that if you pardoned her her 
 mad love, she must also have a proof of your affection." 
 
 " Speak," said the old man ; " what can I refuse a poor 
 creature that loves me to distraction ?" 
 
 "The sultana fears that you will refuse her request; to 
 grant it, she says, needs a love as great as her own." 
 
 " Speak," said the sherif ; " I am dying of impatience." 
 
 " Well, then, do not give her for a rival this strange woman, 
 dishonored by the gaze of the Bedouins and Arnauts." 
 
 "Is that all?" replied the Commander of the Faithful, 
 smiling. " What ! raise this woman to my throne, after all 
 that has passed ? Never ! She shall remain a slave, and end 
 her days in a corner of the harem." 
 
 " That is not what the sultana means ; she is anxious and 
 jealous. What she desires is that Leila should quit the pal- 
 ace, never more to return. ' Let my husband,' said she, ' let 
 the beloved of my soul give me a last pledge of his love. 
 Can he not leave this creature to those who brought her hith- 
 er ? It will be easy to find an honorable match for her among 
 the Bedouins, and I shall be left alone to love the master of 
 my life.' " 
 
 "Oh, the weakness of women !" cried the descendant of the 
 Prophet. " The Koran is right in recommending indulgence 
 to us who have strength and sense. This jealousy of Fatima's 
 is madness, at which I should blush to yield, were it not my 
 pleasure to show her that nothing is impossible either to my 
 power or my love. Bring Leila hither, and tell the sultana 
 that her rival shall not return to the harem. Such is my will ; 
 I mean that all shall respect it." 
 
314 Fairy Book. 
 
 And, turning to the Bedouins, " My friends," said the sherif, 
 in a loud voice, " I make you the judges of my conduct. What 
 should I do with the Egyptian woman whom you have escort- 
 ed hither? Through respect for myself, I can not take her 
 as a wife ; through respect for the pacha, I can not keep her 
 as a slave. This, therefore, is what I propose to do : if there 
 is any one among you who is willing to marry a foreigner, I 
 will give her to him with a fitting dowry, otherwise I will 
 marry her to some rich merchant of Medina or Mecca." 
 
 " God is great !" cried the son of Yusuf, seizing Hanz's arm. 
 " We will look no farther for the four-leaved clover ; it is here ; 
 it is mine ; I have found happiness." 
 
 " Courage, my son," said the old man ; " it is needed even 
 to be happy. I do not think," he added, looking at the sherif, 
 " that it will be necessary to go to Mecca to marry the stran- 
 ger. If a husband only is needed, here is a young man who 
 will yield to no one either in birth, fortune, or courage." 
 
 " My lord," said Omar, bowing low to the sherif, " I should 
 never have had the boldness to raise my eyes to a woman con- 
 fided to my charge ; but, since things have changed, and you 
 permit it, I venture to aspire to the hand of Leila. She is a 
 slave of the pacha ; from her childhood she has been accus- 
 tomed to the ease and luxury of the harem ; on coming hither 
 she dreamed of a fortune which has escaped her grasp ; who 
 knows whether tent-life will not seem hard to her? Wealth 
 is a necessity to a woman that has always lived in a palace. 
 I entreat your lordship, therefore, to give the stranger to the 
 one that shall offer the largest dowry ; it will be a last mark 
 of kindness to her who owes every thing to your goodness." 
 
 " The request is just," said the sherif. " Bring the Egyptian 
 hither. Let the suitors come forward ; I will hear their pro- 
 posals." 
 
 " My uncle," murmured the son of Yusuf, " I am lost !" 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 315 
 
 " At last," said Omar, " Leila is mine !" 
 
 Cafour looked at the two brothers, and ran to the harem. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE AUCTION. 
 
 WHILE the slaves went in search of Leila, Hafiz approach- 
 ed the son of Mansour. 
 
 " Omar," said he, " listen to an old man who has dandled 
 you on his knees. It is said that you are richer than your 
 father; women bow before your fortune, and there is not a 
 merchant in Egypt or Syria but would think himself honored 
 by your alliance. Nothing fetters your desires. Abdallah, 
 on the contrary, can never love another woman ; he has given 
 his heart to her whom he has saved. Be generous ; pay to- 
 day the debt of gratitude by making your brother and Halima 
 happy." 
 
 " My brother is a selfish fellow," answered Omar ; " I have 
 suffered too much through him already. He knows that I 
 wish this Egyptian woman ; he knows that I will have her at 
 any price ; what does he expect to gain, therefore, by declar- 
 ing himself my rival ? If I should lose a hundred thousand 
 piastres, of what advantage would it be to him ? Let him give 
 up Leila, and I will try to forget that this very day he has put 
 my head for the second time in danger." 
 
 " It is well for you that you are a Mussulman," said Hafiz, 
 " otherwise we would teach you before the day was over that 
 an ounce of lead weighs more than all your gold ; but you 
 have not succeeded as you think, and, with the aid of God, 
 we will confound your abominable selfishness." 
 
 Omar shrugged his shoulders and went to meet Leila. She 
 had just entered, concealed from all eyes by the wrappings 
 which enveloped her, yet it seemed to poor Abdallah that a 
 
316 Fairy Book. 
 
 fiery glance shot from the thick veil which he could scarce 
 withstand. Cafour followed her mistress. What she had said 
 to the sultana none could tell, but she had on her neck a neck- 
 lace of pink coral, which certainly had not been cut for a 
 slave. From time to time she ran to a latticed balcony which 
 overlooked the room, and exchanged mysterious words with 
 invisible figures. The whole harem was there, deeply inter- 
 ested in the fair Leila, and perhaps offering up prayers for the 
 son of Yusuf. 
 
 Abdallah was the first to speak. " My sole fortune," said 
 he, "is the spring which I have discovered, and the garden 
 which I have planted. With my father's arms and my mare, 
 these are my only possessions. All are yours, Leila, if you 
 will accept my heart and life." 
 
 "They are not worth a hundred thousand piastres," said 
 Omar, coldly. " Here at Taif I have a garden of orange- 
 trees where the sherif sometimes does me the honor to take 
 coffee. This garden is worth more than two hundred thou- 
 sand piastres ; I offer it to Leila in pledge for a like sum in 
 jewels." 
 
 " Jewels !" said Hafiz ; " my nephew has those which are 
 as rich as yours. Here is a casket which is worth all your 
 promises." 
 
 To the general astonishment, the old shepherd, aided by 
 Cafour, opened a tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl casket, 
 filled with ear-rings, bracelets, and precious stones. Abdal- 
 lah could not repress a cry. Was not that ruby bracelet the 
 one which Leila wore on her arm on the day of the attack, 
 and was not that coral necklace one which Cafour had just 
 snatched from her neck ? He attempted to speak ; a gesture 
 of his uncle stopped him. 
 
 " Beautiful jewels which have been worn already !" said the 
 son of Mansour, biting his lip. " I do not ask where all these 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 317 
 
 spoils of women come from, which I esteem as they deserve ; 
 but my generosity shall not be outdone. I offer three hund- 
 red thousand piastres." 
 
 " Promising is not giving," interrupted Hafiz ; " something 
 more than words is needed." 
 
 For his sole reply, Omar drew a pocket-book from his gir- 
 dle, and, taking from it several papers, handed them to the 
 sherif. " My lord," said he, " these are the orders which you 
 sent me some months ago, and which are already filled. Trjf y 
 are worth more than a million piastres ; will your lordship re 
 fuse to be his slave's security till to-morrow to these exacting 
 Bedouins ?" 
 
 " It shall be as you desire," answered the sherif. " I will 
 be your security for a hundred thousand piastres." 
 
 " If this sum is all that is needed," said one of the Bed- 
 ouins, "we will not leave a companion in trouble, and will 
 give a lesson to this merchant who forgets himself. Here are 
 our sabres ; we will redeem them with a hundred thousand 
 piastres." And, taking off his yataghan, he flung it at the 
 
3i 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 sherif's feet with a contemptuous glance at Omar, while 
 Hafiz approached to do the same, and to set an example to 
 the rest of the band. 
 
 "Take back your sabre," said the Commander of the Faith- 
 ful to the Bedouin. "I will be security for you and your 
 friends. God forbid that I should see you disarmed about 
 me, you who are my strength and my glory. Omar," he add- 
 ed, " before making new promises, perhaps you would do well 
 to reflect. Repentance often follows satisfied passion. A lost 
 slave can be replaced, but friends lost are never found again." 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful," proudly rejoined the son of 
 Mansour, " it was on the faith of your word that I entered 
 into this business, and, unless you command me to stop, I will 
 carry it through. I fear no one's displeasure but yours. And, 
 to put an end at once. to this wrangling, I offer a million pi- 
 astres ; it is not too large a dowry for a woman whom your 
 lordship has honored with his protection." 
 
 " Are you rich enough to commit such follies ?" said the de- 
 scendant of the Prophet. " I shall remember it on the first 
 occasion." 
 
 " Command, my lord," returned the merchant ; " my for- 
 tune and life are yours." 
 
 1& deep silence followed. Leila, who had remained stand- 
 ing, sunk upon a divan ; Abdallah cast down his head ; and 
 Hafiz and his friends threatened Omar, who braved them with 
 a disdainful air. Cafour began to gesticulate in a strange 
 manner toward the balcony, and disappeared. All eyes were 
 fixed on the sherif, who evidently hesitated. 
 
 " I have given my word," said he at last, slowly addressing 
 the Bedouins ; " you are witnesses that every thing has been 
 done in an impartial manner. This merchant, your com- 
 panion in the caravan, offers a million ; the slave, therefore, 
 must belong to him, if none of you offers more." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 319 
 
 "Where could such treasures be found in the desert?" 
 cried Hafiz. " Souls sold to Satan alone possess this infer- 
 nal wealth. As for us, we have nothing but our guns and 
 sabres ; may the day come when their value will be felt !" 
 
 " You forget Abdallah's jewels," said Omar, smiling. 
 
 " Ah ! my brother," cried the son of Yusuf, " what have I 
 done that you should treat me thus ? Ought you to be the 
 one to plunge a dagger into my breast ?" 
 
 " What is this ?" asked the sherif of two slaves who laid a 
 heavy casket of chased silver at the feet of Abdallah. 
 
 " My lord, it is the treasure of the son of Yusuf," an- 
 swered one of the porters, as he opened the casket and took 
 up handfuls of the most beautiful precious stones ever seen, 
 which at the first glance were seen to be worth more than a 
 million. 
 
 " It is strange," thought the sherif, " how much this dia- 
 mond tiara and these topaz bracelets resemble those I gave 
 the sultana. Who has sent you ?" he asked the slave. 
 
 " My lord," replied the negro, bowing, " love is like mad- 
 ness ; all things are forgiven it." And he went out. 
 
 Abdallah thought himself the sport of a dream. Omar 
 turned pale with rage. "There is some snare here," mur- 
 mured he ; "no matter, I will have the last word. I will give 
 two million piastres, if necessary." 
 
 Four more slaves, heavily laden with plate, silver lamps, 
 and chased cups, paused like the first before Abdallah, and 
 laid this treasure at his feet. At the first glance, the sherif 
 recognized a magnificent epergne, the ornament of his harem, 
 which he had received as a present from the sultan, and 
 given, not without regret, to Fatima, the day after a quar- 
 rel. 
 
 "Who can have given orders to bring all these treasures 
 hither?" he cried. 
 
320 Fairy Book. 
 
 " My lord," replied the porters, bowing, " love is like mad 
 ness ; all things are forgiven it." 
 
 " Let these knaves be bastinadoed," said the Commandei 
 of the Faithful ; " I will teach them to answer me in proverbs 
 Who sent them?" 
 
 " My lord, it was Cafour," replied one of the slaves, in a 
 tremulous voice. 
 
 " Bring that child of the*devil hither," said the sherif. " If 
 she is let alone she will carry off my whole palace." 
 
 The four slaves had not quitted the room when six more 
 entered, carrying a litter heaped with the most costly robes 
 and the richest stuffs. At the head of the procession was Ca- 
 four, giving orders with the gravity of an imaum. The sherif 
 called her, and, taking her by the ear, " Come here, wretch," 
 said he ; " once for all, will you tell me the meaning of these 
 follies?" 
 
 " Love is like madness ; all things are forgiven it,-" answered 
 Cafour, gravely. 
 
 "Do you dare to mix up the sultana with this disorder?" 
 
 " The sultana is there," rejoined Cafour, tranquilly pointing 
 to the balcony ; " she has seen and heard every thing ; she 
 knows all, and," she added, lowering Tier voice, " she is furi- 
 ous." 
 
 " Furious ? and at what ?" cried the astounded sherif. 
 
 " She knows," continued Cafour, " that you regret having 
 sacrificed Leila ; she has guessed the part played by this mer- 
 chant, who is bidding in your name ; she feels that passion 
 alone could hurry you away so far as to make you humble 
 these brave Bedouins, who are the honor of your empire. 
 * Since he loves me no longer,' she said, ' I want no more of his 
 favors ; take away from my sight the jewels which he has given 
 me, and the robes with which I delighted in adorning myself 
 to please him. Carry all to Abdallah ; let him contend for 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 321 
 
 me to the last moment. If the master of my soul returns to 
 me, what need have I of riches ? if he abandons me, I wish to 
 keep nothing but the memory of his love.' " 
 
 The sherif looked at the balcony somewhat ill-humoredly. 
 He fancied that he spied through the lattice a little hand tear- 
 ing a lace handkerchief in pieces, and the sound of tears and 
 stifled sobs made him cast down his head. That instant he 
 became conscious that the friendship of the Beni Amurs was 
 worth more to him than the gratitude of Omar, and decided 
 on his course. 
 
 " I will not be made an accomplice of unworthy weakness- 
 es," said he, in a solemn voice. " I never take back a promise 
 which I have made. I wished to secure a suitable dowry to 
 this woman, who is under my protection ; a hundred thousand 
 piastres is sufficient. As to deciding between the rivals, that 
 belongs to Leila. Let her take the merchant or the Bedouin, 
 the city or the desert, it matters little to me. I shall respect 
 her choice, and force all others to do the same." 
 
 "Neither David nor Solomon could have judged more 
 righteously," cried Hafiz. 
 
 The two brothers stood by the side of Leila. Abdallah 
 gazed at her with deep tenderness, and was mute with hope 
 and fear. Omar spoke, moved with anger and jealousy. 
 
 " Think of the future," said he ; " do not sacrifice to this 
 man the flower of your youth and beauty. Do you know the 
 life of women in the tents? a beggarly and slavish existence. 
 Are your hands made to grind corn, milk sheep, weave cloth, 
 and gather grass and sticks ? Will this Bedouin give you the 
 baths, jewels, and perfumes to which you are accustomed ? 
 Will he dye your eyebrows and eyelids? will he wash your 
 tresses with orange-flower water, and dry them with musk and 
 amber ? With me, you will have women to wait on you, robes 
 to deck you, and jewels to adorn you ; you will not be a serv- 
 
 O 2 
 
322 Fairy Book. 
 
 ant, but a mistress ; each of your caprices will be a law and a 
 pleasure to me." 
 
 Leila bowed, took the trembling hand of Abdallah, and 
 placed it on her head. " I am my lord's slave," she said. 
 "A stranger, I have no other refuge than he; an orphan, I 
 have no other family. He is my father, my mother, and my 
 brother. Oh, my beloved," she added, in a low voice, raising 
 her eyes, " at last I am thine, and can tell thee that thou art 
 my joy and my life." And, smiling and weeping at the same 
 time, she kissed the hand of her husband. 
 
 The Commander of the Faithful gazed delightedly at this 
 spectacle, which renewed his youth. " It is rather a hard les- 
 son for Fatima," thought he ; " but I am not sorry for having 
 confounded the sultana ; she will be cured for some time of 
 her incurable jealousy." 
 
 Omar was mute ; his contracted features, his threatening 
 eyes, every thing about him betrayed the conflict of grief and 
 pride. 
 
 " Son of Mansour," said Hafiz, " you should marry Cafour. 
 Your soul is as black as her skin ; you would have children 
 worthy of their grandfather Satan." 
 
 " You are cruel, my uncle," exclaimed the son of Yusuf. 
 " If Omar had been in my place, he would have spared us. 
 My brother," he added, extending his hand to the Egyptian, 
 " forgive me my happiness." 
 
 " You are shrewder than I ; I congratulate you on your 
 success," answered Omar. And he quitted the room in de- 
 spair. 
 
 " What a fine thing is youth !" said Hafiz ; " how honest ! 
 how confiding ! what faith in virtue ! As for me, I am old, 
 and have been in battle. When I find a wicked man under 
 my feet, I crush him like a scorpion, that he may sting me no 
 more." 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 323 
 
 XXII. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL. 
 
 IT is easier to retain wealth in the hand of a prodigal, or to 
 carry water in a sieve, than to lodge patience in the heart of 
 a lover. The day had not dawned and the bird had not quit- 
 ted its nest when the son of Yusuf awakened his companions, 
 and arranged in a long file the camels loaded with the gifts 
 of the sherif and the sultana. He impatiently awaited his be- 
 loved, whom Fatima had kept with her all night, that she 
 might tell her the story of her love. A woman always loves 
 the rival that she has ceased to fear. When Cafour opened 
 the door of the harem and showed herself, uglier and more 
 smiling than ever, Abdallah uttered a cry of surprise and joy. 
 Could the woman behind the child, who stretched out her 
 hand to him, really be Leila ? 
 
 It was she a lover could not be mistaken ; yet it was no 
 longer the Egyptian loaded with jewels, but a Bedouin who 
 had always lived in the tents. Leila was clad in a long blue 
 cotton robe, which was gathered around the neck and fell to 
 the feet. Over this robe was a red woolen burnous, which 
 covered her head. Her black tresses, arranged in numerous 
 small braids, each ending in a coral bead, fell to her eyes, and 
 added to the softness and brilliancy of her glance. In this 
 simple costume, with her head uncovered and her feet bare, 
 Leila was the queen of the desert. The delighted Bedouins 
 saluted her as she passed, as fresh and smiling as the dawn. 
 
 They set out. A recent storm had revived nature; the 
 grass, wet with dew, and the freshly opened flowers, smiled on 
 these happy hearts. Leila no longer hid herself in the back 
 of the palanquin ; Abdallah rode beside her, talking all the 
 
324 Fairy Book. 
 
 way, with his hand on the side of the litter. Cafour had never 
 been more talkative and saucy. 
 
 " Oh, Abdallah," said Leila, " if you bear so hard on the 
 side of the litter, you will overturn it and throw us both on the 
 ground." 
 
 " Well, let go the camel's rein, then ; don't refuse me the 
 pleasure of holding your hand." 
 
 " Ingrate !" cried Cafour, " you have quite forgotten me. 
 So, black Bedouin, you are carrying off the wife of the Calif 
 Moyawiah !" And, with a joyous voice, she struck up the 
 Bedouin girl's song :* 
 
 " Oh, take these purple robes away, 
 
 Give back my cloak of camel's hair, 
 And bear me from this towering pile 
 
 To where the black tents flap in air. 
 The camel's colt, with faltering tread, 
 
 The dog that all but barks at me, 
 Delight me more than ambling mules 
 
 Than every art of minstrelsy. 
 And any cousin, poor but free, 
 
 Might take me, fatted ass, from thee." 
 
 They went on thus the whole day, unconscious of heat t>r 
 fatigue. When joy follows suffering, do we think of aught 
 else than joy ? Hafiz, besides, was there to lead the caravan, 
 and Abdallah did not need to quit the treasure that the Bed- 
 ouins were bringing back in triumph. 
 
 Night was approaching when they came in sight of the 
 tents of the Beni Amurs. The sun was setting beneath the 
 arch of an immense rainbow that spanned half the sky, a ro- 
 seate light illumined the sands of the desert, and golden rays 
 flashed their gleams on the summit of the granite pyramids. 
 In the distance was heard the shrill cry of the sakiah, the 
 
 * The song of the beautiful Bedouin girl Moyawiah is renowned among the Arabs. 
 It may be found in Burton's Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medina and 
 Mecca. 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 325 
 
 barking of the dogs, and the cooing of the pigeons. Sudden- 
 ly a piercing shout announced the return of the travelers. 
 
 " What cry is that ?" asked Leila. 
 
 " It is my mother's voice," answered Abdallah, dismounting 
 from his horse. " You will have two to love you." 
 
 Halima soon appeared, greatly astonished at the sight of so 
 long a caravan. " What are these ?" said she, pointing to the 
 packages ; " has the son of Yusuf sold his horse and arms to 
 turn merchant ?" 
 
 " Yes, my mother," answered Abdallah ; " and I bring you 
 the rarest and choicest of wares, a daughter to respect and 
 assist you." 
 
 Leila alighted from the litter and threw herself into the 
 arms of Halima, who looked at her with astonishment, and 
 asked the name of her father and tribe. She was not less 
 surprised at the sight of Cafour, and, despite all Hafiz's 
 speeches, returned to the tent with a sigh. She had little 
 liking for a stranger woman. But when Abdallah came and 
 seated himself by her side after unloading the camels, and 
 Leila hastened with a basin of warm water to wash her hus- 
 band's feet herself, " God be praised," cried Halima, " this 
 woman will be truly a handmaid unto her husband. My 
 house has at last found a mistress ; I can die in peace." 
 And she tenderly embraced the daughter whom God had 
 given her in his goodness. 
 
 " What is the matter, master ?" said Cafour, who was lying 
 at Abdallah's feet, with her head resting on her preserver's 
 lap ; " has the smoke of your pipe got into your eyes ? you 
 look as if you were crying. Oh, your pipe has gone out; will 
 you have a coal to light it ?" 
 
 " Hush ! hush !" said the Bedouin, stroking the negress's 
 head as if caressing a faithful dog. The child lay down again, 
 at the same time jerking her mistress's arm so suddenly that 
 
326 Fairy Book. 
 
 Leila's forehead came in contact with Abdallah's lips. Cafour 
 laughed at the success of her stratagem. Poor creature ! to 
 whom every thing was denied, and who found means to be 
 happy by placing her happiness in that of others. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 KARA SHITAN. 
 
 OMAR hau returned to Djiddah with despair in his heart. 
 
 It was in vain th^t his sla'ves tried to divert him ; it was in 
 vain that business arid gold poured in on him from all sides ; 
 his passion consumed him. He passed whole days in his 
 chamber, sitting cross-legged on a carpet, revolving impossi- 
 ble projects in his brain, and seeking for a vengeance which 
 escaped him. 
 
 " Of what avail is my father's wish to me ?" he cried. " Of 
 what use is my health and the money that I have accumula- 
 ted ? am I any the less, on that account, the most unhappy of 
 men ? That wretched Bedouin, in his poverty, triumphs over 
 me. I am lonely and desolate in the midst of my abundance. 
 Accursed be life accursed be my brother ! The oracle has 
 not deceived me ; I am slain by my best friend." And he re- 
 lapsed into his despair. 
 
 The grief of Omar was the talk of the whole city. If little 
 love was felt for the son of Mansour, on the other hand his 
 fortune was greatly esteemed. Was there not some service 
 to offer or some consolation to sell him ? it was asked. Aft- 
 er such an insult, he would well reward whomsoever should 
 avenge him on the Bedouin. Such words are not lost. It is 
 the curse of the rich that there are those around them ready 
 to enter the fires of hell in their behalf. The passions of 
 the poor are flames which consume the heart, and then 
 quickly die out ; the passions of the rich are a brazier, fed 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 327 
 
 by all about it, and giving forth conflagration, crime, and 
 death. 
 
 One morning the son of Mansour received a visit from an 
 Arnaut captain, who came, he said, on important business 
 that would suffer no delay. Omar received him politely, and 
 ordered pipes and coffee to be served. 
 
 " Capital coffee !" said the captain, sipping it slowly ; " as 
 bitter as death, as black as Satan, and as hot as Hades. 
 And what an exquisite mixture of nutmeg, cinnamon, and 
 clove ! What a fine thing it is to be rich ! the world seems 
 to move for you alone." 
 
 " Men are sometimes mistaken about the happiness of the 
 rich," said Omar, sighing. 
 
 " Bah ! a rich man in sorrow is a miser who knows not how 
 to use his gold. If he loves a woman, let him buy her ; if he 
 wishes to be rid of a rival, let him sell his skin. Every thing 
 can be bought here on earth ; with money, a man can have 
 every thing." 
 
 " To whom have I the honor of speaking ?" asked the son 
 of Mansour. 
 
 " My name is Kara Shitan," replied the stranger. " I am 
 an Arnaut chief one of those who attacked you in the desert. 
 By killing my friend Mohammed, your brother Abdallah made 
 me lose five thousand douros ; pay me this sum, and I will rid 
 you of Abdallah." 
 
 " A murder !" said Omar. 
 
 " Bah !" rejoined the captain, coldly ; " if God had not in- 
 vented death, it would not be long before we should eat each 
 other. Away with false scruples ! When an occasion offers, 
 wisdom commands us not to let it slip. It is just to force our 
 enemies to drink the bitter cup which they have made us 
 taste; we are right in striking them with the weapon with 
 which they were the first to wound us." 
 
328 Fairy Book. 
 
 " My brother !" said Omar, in a hesitating tone. 
 
 " Your brother and your enemy. What matters his death 
 to you ? you will have no hand in it. I shall kill Abdallah 
 like a dog if I find him in the desert ; I shall avenge my own 
 cmarrel ; only, in order to avenge myself, I must have five 
 thousand douros." 
 
 " Of what use will your vengeance be to me ?" said the son 
 of Mansour. 
 
 " I know nothing about it," replied Kara Shitan ; " I don't 
 understand business as well as you do ; but, if I were in your 
 place, and Abdallah should disappear, I should find no trouble 
 in gaining possession of the beautiful Leila. The Bedouin, it 
 is said, has no family but his mother and an old dotard ; a lit- 
 tle courage and resolution will remove these obstacles. An 
 abduction is an easy matter ; Leila once a widow and in your 
 house, it will not take long to console her. What is there to 
 fear? The sherif ? At Djiddah, men laugh at the anger of 
 the Bedouins. The pacha ? He is a man like the rest of us ; 
 he has a conscience, and we know its price." 
 
 " And the tribe have you thought of that ?" 
 
 " The tribe is nothing," said the captain. " I know that 
 these Bedouins have as much rancor and malice as their 
 camels; but blood can be bought as well as other things; 
 money is not despised in the desert any more than any where 
 else, and the Beni Amurs will console themselves with Abdal- 
 lah's inheritance." 
 
 " Yes," returned Omar, " blood can be ransomed when the 
 murder is involuntary. A hundred camels is the price of a 
 man's blood ; but there is no composition for murder, and I 
 shall suffer death." 
 
 " The desert is mute," said the captain, " and dead men tell 
 no tales. He who finds a shriveled corpse among the sands 
 must be shrewd indeed if he can distinguish a murder from 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 329 
 
 an accident. But we will say no more about it," added he, 
 rising. "What is the charming Leila, whom I have never be- 
 held, to me ? Let her love her Bedouin ; let them be happy 
 together and laugh at the son of Mansour it is all the same 
 to me. After all, Abdallah is a brave man, and I respect him ; 
 if you had inflicted on him the outrage which you have re- 
 ceived, he would not haggle about the price of vengeance. 
 Farewell." 
 
 " Stay," cried the son of Mansour ; " you are right. While 
 Abdallah lives there is no security for me on earth j it was 
 predicted to me at my birth, and I feel it daily. Deliver me 
 from this enemy. As to the cripple, I have an account to set- 
 tle with him which I will attend to myself. Leila, you will 
 cost me dear !" 
 
 " If you take my advice," resumed the captain, " we shall 
 both strike at the same time. I will entice away Abdallah, 
 never more to return, and you shall carry off the lady ; all will 
 be done in two hours, and the enemy overthrown even before 
 he suspects the danger." 
 
 " So be it," said Omar ; " but remember that I never wish 
 to see your face again." 
 
 " That is very natural," replied Kara Shitan. " Tell me the 
 day and hour, give me the five thousand douros, and rely on 
 my punctuality. My reputation is made ; I would not fail to 
 keep my word for the finest horses in Arabia." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 HOSPITALITY. 
 
 WHILE avarice and hatred were plotting Abdallah's death, 
 the son of Yusuf was enjoying his happiness without dream- 
 ing of a cloud in the horizon. Could he suspect that he had 
 an enemy when his soul was so pure and his heart so free 
 
33 Fairy Book. 
 
 from bitterness? He who loves and is. beloved looks on all 
 men as his brethren. For a month he had been intoxicated 
 with joy and tenderness, with no other care than that of ad- 
 miring Leila and thanking God for having blessed his house. 
 
 In one of those hot, misty mornings which precede a storm, 
 Abdallah was reposing in his garden in the shade of the cit- 
 ron-trees. Cafour carelessly lay at his feet, her eyes fixed on 
 him like a dog watching for an order or a glance. At the 
 back of the tent Halima was baking loaves in the ashes, 
 while Leila, seated before a loom, was embroidering gold and 
 silver lozenges on her husband's burnous. The son of Yusut 
 abandoned himself to the happiness of living surrounded by 
 all whom he loved. The barking of the dogs roused him 
 from his reverie. A man had stopped his camel at the garden 
 gate, and was stretching out his hand to the young Bed- 
 ouin. Leila disappeared, and Abdallah went to meet the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Welcome," said he ; " thy arrival brings us the blessing of 
 God. The house and all it contains are thine ; thou art the 
 master thereof." 
 
 " Son of Yusuf," answered the stranger, " I will not set foot 
 on the ground till thou hast sworn to render me the service 
 of which I am in need." 
 
 " Speak," said Abdallah ; " thou art a guest thy word is a 
 command." 
 
 " I am a poor merchant from Syria," resumed the stranger. 
 " I have been to Mecca on business. Yesterday I was drawn 
 into a quarrel in the Holy City with a Beni Motayr, and had the 
 misfortune to kill my adversary. His family and friends are 
 pursuing me ; I have no one to defend me ; if I can not reach 
 the noble Medina, I am lost. You alone, it is said, can con- 
 duct me thither in safety ; my life is in your hands decide 
 my fate." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 331 
 
 " Enter my tent," replied the son of Yusuf. " In two hours 
 we will set out." 
 
 " Remember," said the merchant, " that I trust myself to 
 you alone." 
 
 " I alone will accompany you," returned Abdallah ; " I an- 
 swer for your safety on my head." 
 
 No sooner had the stranger been brought into the tent and 
 confided to the care of Halima than the young Bedouin went 
 out to prepare for departure. Cafour stopped him on the 
 way. " Do you know this man ?" said she. 
 
 " No ; what matters it ? It was God that sent him hither." 
 
 " He is not a merchant ; I have seen his pistols they are 
 too handsome \ he is a soldier. Beware of him." 
 
 " Soldier or merchant, what have I to fear from a stranger 
 and a fugitive ?" returned Abdallah. " Make haste and pre- 
 pare supper; I have only time to tell Leila of the journey." 
 
 When the son of Yusuf returned to his guest, Cafour had 
 spread the table with unleavened bread, pressed dates, boiled 
 rice, "new milk, and cold water. She bustled about him and 
 gazed at him earnestly, trying to recall where she had seen 
 this face, which seemed familiar to her. The stranger was per- 
 fectly calm and indifferent. In her anxiety, she determined to 
 arouse him and break the charm that hid the danger. Seiz- 
 ing an earthen vase, she placed herself behind the pretended 
 merchant, and threw it on the ground, shivering it in pieces. 
 The stranger looked angrily around. 
 
 " The Arnaut !" cried she, looking at her master. 
 
 " Begone," said Abdallah, " and do not trouble me with 
 your follies." 
 
 Cafour glided to a corner of the tent, and soon returned 
 with boiling tea. The stranger was perfectly tranquil ; the 
 word Arnaut had not moved him. 
 
 " My guest," said Abdallah, " welcome to this poor table. 
 
332 Fairy Book, 
 
 The journey will be long, and it is good to strengthen your- 
 self against the fatigue to come. Satisfy your hunger." 
 
 " Excuse me," replied the merchant ; " my anxiety and fa- 
 tigue have given me a fever, and I have but one desire to 
 set out on my way." 
 
 " Salt is good for the appetite," said Cafour, and, taking a 
 handful of salt, she thrust it into the stranger's mouth and fled 
 to the garden. 
 
 " Wretch !" cried Abdallah, " I will chastise your insolence," 
 as he rushed furiously after Cafour to punish her. 
 
 " Strike," said Cafour, weeping, " strike the dog that warns 
 you, and caress the jackal that will devour you. Did you not 
 hear the dogs howl this morning? they saw Azrael. Mad- 
 man, your sins blind you ; death is hovering over this house. 
 Do you not know that merchant ?" 
 
 " A guest is above suspicion," interrupted Abdallah ; and, 
 returning to the tent, he found the stranger seated in the same 
 place, with a smile on his lips. 
 
 " The slave has given me a lesson in politeness," said he. 
 " The beard of the guest is in the hand of the master of the 
 tent ; I will endeavor to do honor to your hospitality." He 
 fell to eating with an excellent appetite for a sick man, talking 
 freely, and seeking every means to be agreeable to Abdallah. 
 
 At the moment of departure, when the stranger was already 
 mounted, Leila came out, with her face half concealed in her 
 burnous, holding a pitcher in her hand, from which she sprin- 
 kled a few drops of water on the feet and haunches of the 
 camel. " May God give thee a good journey," said she, " and 
 conduct thee back in safety to those who love and watch for 
 thee." 
 
 "Those who love me are under ground," answered the 
 stranger ; " and since I lost my mother, twenty years ago, no 
 one has watched for me." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 333 
 
 " Then may God give thee a wife to love thee and grow old 
 by thy side." 
 
 " Let us go," said the stranger, abruptly ; " the moments are 
 numbered." 
 
 " My lord," said Leila to her husband, " thou bearest happi- 
 ness away with thee ; mayest thou soon bring it back again !" 
 
 Cafour was by Abdallah's side. " Master," said she, " don't 
 you take your gun ?" 
 
 " No, it would be an insult to him whom I accompany. 
 Fear nothing ; he whom God guards is well guarded. When 
 my uncle returns from the fields, tell him to watch over the 
 tent. Next to Sod, it is to him that I trust you." 
 
 And, taking his lance in his hand, Abdallah set out on his 
 way, walking by the side of the stranger's camel. Halima 
 and Leila followed the travelers with their eyes as long as 
 they could see them, then returned to the tent. Cafour alone 
 remained outside, with fixed gaze and trembling heart. It 
 seemed to her that the horizon was about to open and the 
 desert to give back the master for whom she watched. Vain 
 hope of an anxious soul ! Night fell on the earth without 
 bringing Abdallah. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 THE GOLDEN LEAF. 
 
 No sooner had they plunged into the sands than the stran- 
 ger looked around him to be certain that he was alone, and 
 began to play with the handle of his pistol. 
 
 " I hope, my dear guest," said Abdallah, " that you will par- 
 don the folly of that child who disturbed your repose." 
 
 " If the slave had been mine, I should have punished her 
 severely," answered the traveler. 
 
 " We should be indulgent to those who love us," returned 
 
334 Fairy Book. 
 
 Abdallah. " Cafour thought me threatened with some great 
 danger ; it was to save me from this imaginary peril that she 
 involuntarily offended you. By forcing you to eat my salt she 
 has made us friends for life and death. Is not this the case 
 among you Syrians ?" 
 
 " In my tribe," said the stranger, " the obligation lasts for 
 one day. But if the second day passes without partaking of 
 the same dish, the salt loses its virtue, and we are free to hate 
 each other." 
 
 " Well, my guest," replied Abdallah, smiling, " you shall kill 
 me to-morrow after I have saved your life. Until then I am 
 in your keeping; it is your duty to protect me against all 
 men." 
 
 " So I will," returned the stranger then was silent. " These 
 are strange words," thought he. " The Bedouin is right ; I can 
 not kill him while the salt of hospitality is still in my stomach 
 it would be a crime. I will wait till evening. When the 
 sun sets another day will begin, and I shall have the right to 
 do as I like." 
 
 All along the way he gazed at Abdallah, who went on with 
 an erect head and calm brow. The Bedouin's pistols were 
 not loaded, and if he carried a lance in his hand, it was only 
 to aid him in walking. 
 
 " This man's confidence hampers me," said the stranger to 
 himself. " I would gladly fell an enemy ; I can not slaughter 
 a sheep. Five thousand douros for such a task is not enough ; 
 I would rather kill that dog of an Omar for half the price." 
 
 When the sun was near setting, the merchant urged on his 
 camel in order to prepare his weapons without being seen 
 by Abdallah ; then, hiding his arms under his burnous, he 
 paused. " Well," thought he, " the moment has come." 
 
 As he turned round, the son of Yusuf approached him, 
 seized the camel by the bridle, and, thrusting his lance into 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 335 
 
 the ground, spread two carpets on the sand. " My brother," 
 said he, " this is the hour of prayer. The keblah is before us, 
 and if we have no water for our ablutions, you know that the 
 Prophet permits us to use the sand of the desert." 
 
 " I have no time to waste here ; let us go on," cried the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Are you not a Mussulman ?" said Abdallah, looking at 
 him with a threatening air. 
 
 " There is no God but God, and Mohammed is his proph- 
 et," the merchant hastened to reply. " But the religion of a 
 poor pilgrim like me is simpler than that of a noble Bedouin. 
 I do not pray, because all that God does he does well ; I do 
 not wash my face, because I need the water of the desert to 
 drink ; I do not give alms, because I ask them ; I do not fast 
 in the month of Ramadan, because I famish with hunger all 
 the year round ; and I do not go on pilgrimages, because the 
 whole earth is the house of God. This is my faith ; so much 
 the worse for those who are too nice to like it." 
 
 "You surprise me, my dear guest," resumed the son of 
 Yusuf. " I had a different opinion of you. Do you not wear, 
 like myself, an amulet on your arm to drive away the tempta- 
 tions of the evil spirit ? Do you not know that it contains the 
 two saving chapters ?" 
 
 " Yes, I wear a talisman," said the stranger. " My mother 
 gave it to me twenty years ago on her dying bed. It is the 
 only thing that I respect ; more than once it has turned aside 
 the death that was whistling about me." 
 
 " Have you forgotten the words that make the virtue of this 
 treasure ?" 
 
 " I have never troubled myself about them ; my mother 
 chose them for me ; she knew that of which I am ignorant." 
 
 " Hearken to them," said Abdallah, solemnly. " When 3 
 man lives in the midst of these sands which may overwhelm 
 
336 Fairy Book. 
 
 him at a breath, it is good to draw nigh by prayer to him 
 who alone rules the danger." 
 
 And, bending toward Mecca, the son of Yusuf repeated, 
 with emotion, the chapter of the Koran entitled the 
 
 DAYBREAK. 
 
 " In the name of the clement and merciful God, 
 Say, I fly for refuge unto the Lord of the DAYBREAK ; 
 From the mischief of the beings whom he has created ; 
 From the mischief of the night when it cometh on ; 
 From the mischief of the envious, who beareth us envy:" 
 
 " Peace be upon thee !" cried the merchant. " Are those 
 the words which my mother left me ?" and, while listening to 
 Abdallah, he replaced the pistols in his belt. 
 
 The son of Yusuf continued to recite the Koran : 
 
 " In the name of the clement and merciful God, 
 Say, I fly for refuge unto the Lord of MEN, 
 The King of men, 
 The God of men ; 
 
 From the mischief of him who suggests evil thoughts and slyly withdraweth, 
 Who whispers evil into the hearts of men 
 From genii and men." 
 
 " Who says this ?" asked the stranger. " Who reads thus 
 the heart?" 
 
 "It is God himself," replied Abdallah; "we are his. If 
 he wishes our destruction, our feet lead us where death awaits 
 us. If he wishes our safety, death falls before us like a 
 wounded lion. He saved Abraham in the midst of the 
 flames ; he drew Jonah from the depths of the sea and the 
 belly of the whale." 
 
 " Then do you never fear death ?" 
 
 " No. Where God commands, all precautions are vain. 
 There are two days in our life when it is useless to arm 
 ourselves against death the day when God orders Azrael to 
 strike us, and the day when he forbids him to approach us." 
 
Abdallah ; or, Tke Four-leaved Clover. 337 
 
 " May we not still fear the unknown hour that is destined 
 to carry us away ?" 
 
 " No, not if we have followed the Word of God. Your 
 mother doubtless told you more than once what mine has 
 often repeated to me, 'Remember that on the day of thy 
 birth thou alone wept, while all around thee rejoiced. Live 
 so that at thy last moment all around thee may be in tears, 
 while thou alone hast no tears to shed ; then thou wilt not 
 fear death, whatever may be the hour of its coming.' " 
 
 " You dwellers in the desert are a strange people," mur- 
 mured the stranger ; " your words are golden, but your acts 
 are evil." And he involuntarily carried his hand to his pis- 
 tol. 
 
 "We are the people of the Prophet," returned the Bed- 
 ouin ; " we follow his teachings. Before ever you set foot in 
 my tent," he continued, raising his voice, " I knew you, Kara 
 Shitan. You are my enemy ; you came to my dwelling under 
 a false name ; I know not the end of your journey, and noth- 
 ing would have been easier than for me to rid myself of you ; 
 but you demanded my hospitality ; God placed you under my 
 keeping, and this is why I have accompanied you, alone and 
 unarmed. If you have evil thoughts, may God protect me ; 
 if not, give me your hand." 
 
 " May hell be my inheritance if I touch him who has 
 spared me !" said Kara Shitan. " Here is my hand ; it is 
 that of a soldier who returns evil for evil, and good for good." 
 
 No sooner had the Arnaut uttered the words than he began 
 to regret them. " Here I have allowed myself to be trifled 
 with like a child," thought he. " Shall I give back the five 
 thousand douros ? No ; Omar is rich enough to pay his broth- 
 er's debt. Besides, have I not rid him of Abdallah ? If his 
 heart has not failed him, Leila by this time is on the way to 
 Djiddah. If he undertakes to complain, let him come for his 
 
 P 
 
338 Fairy Book. 
 
 douros ; I have promised to kill some one I give him the 
 preference." At this happy thought, Kara Shitan laughed to 
 himself, and admired his own wit. 
 
 An instant after he was seized with remorse. " It is not nat- 
 ural," thought he, " for me to give way to such weakness. Who 
 now will ask my aid ? I am like an old lion without teeth or 
 claws. That young woman who spoke to me so gently, this 
 Bedouin who trusts in me, the voice of my mother which 
 seems to rise from the tomb all this is magic. Accursed 
 amulet, thou hast destroyed me !" and he snatched the talis- 
 man from his arm. 
 
 " Captain," said Abdallah, " we must plunge into the desert 
 if you would not meet the caravan which we see yonder on the 
 way to the noble Medina." 
 
 " No," said Kara Shitan ; "on the contrary, I shall join it ; 
 I need you no longer. What shall I give you to show my 
 gratitude ? Here, take this talisman. You know not what 
 you owe it ; you know not what it costs me. Farewell ; if you 
 hear me called a coward, remember that I have been your 
 guest and your friend." 
 
 And, urging on his camel, he rode off, leaving Abdallah 
 surprised by these strange words, the meaning of which es- 
 caped him. 
 
 Left alone, the son of Yusuf endeavored to fasten the pro- 
 tecting amulet about his arm.. It was a little roll of parch- 
 ment, wound around with a silken thread. On one side was 
 sewed a bit of velvet, to which something resembling a golden 
 bee was attached. Abdallah uttered a cry of joy : he could 
 not be mistaken ; it was the third leaf the clover was com- 
 plete. The son of Yusuf had nothing more to seek for on 
 earth ; the diamond leaf awaited him in heaven. 
 
 With a soul overflowing with gratitude, Abdallah prostrated 
 
Abdallah ; or> The Four-leaved Clover. 339 
 
 himself on the earth, and, in a voice full of emotion, recited 
 the Fat-hah : 
 
 " In the name of the clement and merciful God. 
 Praise be to God, the Lord of the universe, 
 
 The clement and merciful, 
 
 The King of the day of judgment, 
 Thee alone do we worship, and of thee alone do we beg assistance. 
 
 Direct us in the right way, 
 
 In the way of those whom thou hast loaded with thy blessings, 
 Not of those who have incurred thy wrath, nor of those who go astray, 
 Amen, Lord of the angels, of the genii, and of men." 
 
 The prayer finished, Abdallah turned his face homeward 
 with a light heart and joyous tread. A new thought had en- 
 tered his brain a thought which was a new happiness in it- 
 self. Was it certain that the diamond leaf had fallen within 
 the gates of Paradise ? Did not these three leaves, reunited 
 from different parts of the globe, cry out for their sister? 
 Could a blessing of God remain imperfect ? Why might not 
 a new effort, a more entire devotion to the divine will, obtain 
 the highest prize for which Abdallah's heart sighed ? 
 
 Intoxicated with this hope, the son of Yusuf walked on 
 without thinking of the length and fatigue of the journey, 
 and the darkness alone forced him to stop. The sky was 
 lowering, and the moon did not rise till near morning. Wrap- 
 ped in his burnous, the Bedouin threw himself at the foot of a 
 tree, and quickly fell asleep. But his thoughts did not quit the 
 divine clover ; he saw it in his dreams : then the leaves grew 
 and assumed a human form ; Leila, Hafiz, Halima, and poor 
 Cafour, hand in hand, formed the mysterious plant, and en- 
 riched him with their smiles and love. "To-morrow, my 
 loved ones, to-morrow we shall meet again !" murmured he. 
 
 " Verily, the knowledge of the hour of judgment is with 
 God. No soul knoweth what it shall gain on the morrow, 
 neither doth any soul know in what land it shall die ; but God 
 is knowing, and fully acquainted with all things." 
 
34O Fairy Book. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 WHEN the son of Yusuf awakened, the moon was shedding 
 her gentle light on the earth, and the breeze of the morning 
 was already felt. The impatient traveler quickened his steps, 
 and, on mounting a small rising ground, he saw the tents of 
 his tribe in the distance by the first beams of daylight. In 
 front of them, and nearer him, was his own dwelling ; he had 
 waited for autumn before removing from the garden he had 
 planted, the bower in which Leila took delight. 
 
 At the sight of his people, Abdallah paused to take breath 
 and enjoy the spectacle before his eyes. The first sounds of 
 the morning were succeeding the calmness of the night. A 
 few women were already on their way to the well, with their 
 pitchers on their heads ; the camels were stretching out their 
 long necks and braying ; and the sheep were bleating in their 
 folds for the shepherd. Around Abdallah's tent all was silent ; 
 there was neither sound nor movement in the garden. " My 
 uncle is growing old," thought the Bedouin ; " there is great 
 need of me at home. What happiness to surprise them all ! 
 Who would have thought once that a day's absence would 
 seem so long to me !" 
 
 As he descended the hill a horse ran past him at full gallop 
 it was Hamama. He called her ; the frightened mare fled 
 toward the Bedouin village ; for the first time she did not 
 hear the voice of her master. 
 
 " Who has untied Hamama ?" thought Abdallah. " What 
 has frightened her ? It is some new prank of Cafour's. Why 
 haven't they kept better guard ?" 
 
 He entered the garden, the gate of which was open. At the 
 sound of his steps the dogs came out of the tent, but, instead 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 341 
 
 of running to meet him, they set up a mournful howl. " God 
 is great !" exclaimed the son of Yusuf. " Misfortune has en- 
 tered my dwelling." 
 
 In a moment he felt the bitterness of death. He tried to 
 go on, but his knees bent beneath him, and a cloud passed 
 before his eyes. He tried to call out, but his words choked 
 him. At last, with a desperate effort, " My uncle, my moth- 
 er, Leila, Cafour, where are you ?" shouted he. 
 
 There was no answer. The doves were cooing among the 
 branches, the bees were humming around the last remaining 
 flowers, the water was rippling over the pebbles ; every thing 
 was living in the garden the tent was mute and lifeless. 
 Abdallah dragged himself from one clump of trees to anoth- 
 er ; then his strength returned, and the blood mounted to his 
 cheeks. He staggered onward like a drunken man. 
 
 The tent was empty, the furniture overturned, and a table 
 broken ; there had been a struggle. The curtain of the apart- 
 ment of the women was down. Abdallah ran thither. As he 
 entered he stumbled over a corpse it was Hafiz. The old 
 man was stretched on his back, his teeth shut, his mouth cov- 
 ered with foam, and his features contracted with rage. His 
 hands were clenched. In the left he held a shred of blue 
 cotton stuff it was the robe of Leila ; in the right a piece of 
 scarlet cloth, torn doubtless from the ravisher. Brave Hafiz ! 
 the cowards had not dared attack him face to face, but had 
 assassinated him from behind while he was defending Leila. 
 
 Abdallah fell on his knees by the side of his uncle and 
 closed his eyes. " God grant thee mercy !" said he ; " may 
 he be as good to thee as thou wert to us !" He rose without 
 shedding a tear, and walked with a firm step toward the vil- 
 lage ; but his limbs failed him on the way, and he was forced 
 to lean against a palm-tree for support. Taking his pistols 
 from his girdle, he fired them in the air. At the sound the 
 
34 2 Fairy Book. 
 
 Bedouins ran from all sides. Men and women surrounded 
 Abdallah, who stood pale, with frenzied eyes and trembling 
 limbs. " Here you are," he cried, " brave warriors, Beni Amurs, 
 kings of the desert ! Oh, sons of Jews, hearts of women, 
 cowards, the curses of God fall upon your heads !" And for 
 the first time he wept. 
 
 A cry of rage answered his words. " He is mad," cried 
 one of the old men ; " respect him whose soul is with God. 
 Come, my child," added he, taking Abdallah's hand, " calm 
 yourself ; what is the matter ?" 
 
 " What is the matter ?" cried the young man. " This night, 
 in my absence, Hafiz has been killed, my mother has been 
 carried off, all that I loved have been snatched from me. 
 And you you were asleep you heard nothing. Curses on 
 you. To me the misfortune; to you the outrage and in- 
 famy!" 
 
 At the first words of Abdallah the women had rushed to- 
 ward the tent, where they were heard moaning and weeping. 
 The sheik cast down his head. 
 
 "Who would have thought of watching over your family 
 when your uncle and brother were there to protect them ?" 
 said he. 
 
 " My brother ! impossible !'' 
 
 "Your brother came here last evening with six slaves," 
 said a Bedouin. " I knew the little merchant ; I helped Hafiz 
 kill a sheep for the supper of his guests." 
 
 The son of Yusuf hid his face in his hands, then looked at 
 his companions, and said in a faint voice, " Come and see 
 what my brother has done, and advise me what to do." 
 
 " Advice is easy," replied the sheik. " After an outrage 
 there is but one thought for him who has a soul vengeance ! 
 You are a finger of our hand ; whoever touches you wounds 
 us; whoever seeks your life seeks ours. Omar has a few 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 343 
 
 hours the start of us, but with God's aid we will kill him be- 
 fore night. Come, my brave men," he added, " saddle your 
 horses and take a double ration of water ; the weather is low- 
 ering, and the skins dry fast. Let us go." 
 
 Before mounting his horse, Abdallah wished to see his uncle 
 once more. The women had already surrounded the corpse 
 and commenced their lamentations. " Oh, my father, my only 
 friend," cried the Bedouin, "you know why I leave thee. 
 Either I will never more enter this dwelling, or thou shalt be 
 avenged." 
 
 The Beni Amurs followed the son of Yusuf. The sheik 
 gazed long at old Hafiz ; then, raising his hand, " Accursed 
 be he who returns to his wife till he has stricken down the 
 enemy !" said he. " Woe to him who has insulted us ; before 
 this night we will fling his corpse to the eagles and jackals. 
 The whole earth shall know whether the Beni Amurs are 
 brethren who cling together, or children with whom men can 
 trifle with impunity." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 LEILA. 
 
 THE band set out amid the cries of the women and shouts 
 of vengeance ; once in the desert, all was silent, each making 
 ready his arms and watching the horizon. It was not difficult 
 to follow the caravan ; the wind had not yet effaced the foot- 
 prints of the camels, all of which pointed toward Djiddah. 
 Abdallah, always in advance, counted the minutes, and called 
 God to his aid ; but, however much he strained his gaze, he 
 saw naught but solitude. The air was burning, the heavens 
 were heavy with the coming storm. The horses, panting and 
 covered with sweat, advanced at a slow pace. The son of 
 Yusuf sighed ; vengeance seemed escaping him. 
 
344 Fairy Book. 
 
 At length he perceived a black speck in the distance it was 
 the caravan. It had felt the approach of the storm, and had 
 taken refuge near those Red Rocks known so well to Abdal- 
 lah. " My friends, we have them !" cried he. " Here they 
 are ; God has delivered them into our hands. Forward !" 
 And each one, forgetting fatigue, spurred his horse on the 
 ravishers. 
 
 In these endless plains it is not easy to surprise an enemy 
 that stands on his guard. Omar soon recognized his pur- 
 suers, and did not wait for them. He ranged the camels in 
 line, and placed a few drivers behind them to feign a defense, 
 then mounted a horse and fled with the rest of the band into 
 the desert. 
 
 The Bedouins came up. At the first discharge, Omar's 
 camel-drivers gave way and fled among the rocks. Before 
 the smoke was cleared away a woman ran to meet Abdallah : 
 it was Halima, who had been left behind and had escaped her 
 enemies. 
 
 " Blessed be thou, my son !" she cried. " Do not stop ; give 
 chase to that negro with the red jacket ; he is the assassin of 
 Hafiz and the kidnapper of Leila. Avenge us ; eye for eye, 
 tooth for tooth, life for life ! Death to traitors, death to mur- 
 derers !" 
 
 At these cries Hamama rushed over the sands with the 
 swiftness of a torrent, as if sharing in her master's passion. 
 The Bedouins had great difficulty in keeping their companion 
 in sight. As for Abdallah, rage made him forget danger. 
 " Cowards !" cried he to the accomplices of Omar, " where 
 would you flee when God pursues you ?" and with drawn sabre 
 he passed amid the bullets, his eye fixed on the negro who was 
 carrying off Leila. The pursuer and pursued soon left the 
 rest of the party behind. The Ethiopian, mounted on a fleet 
 horse, sped like an arrow through the air, while Abdallah fol- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 345 
 
 lowed close behind. Hamama gained ground ; vengeance 
 was approaching. Leila, placed in front and held by a pow- 
 erful arm, called her husband, writhing in the stifling embrace, 
 and vainly struggling against the terrible rider. Suddenly she 
 seized the bridle and gave it a jerk, which disturbed the horse, 
 and caused him to stop for an instant. "Curses on you," 
 cried the negro ; " I am lost. Let go the bridle, or I shall be 
 killed." 
 
 " Here, my beloved !" cried Leila, clinging to the bridle, 
 despite threats and blows, with the energy of despair. 
 
 She was saved. The son of Yusuf fell like a thunderbolt 
 en the ravisher, when suddenly the frightened Hamama sprang 
 aside with a bound which would have thrown any other than 
 ner rider. A heavy mass had fallen at her feet. Abdallah 
 heard a groan which chilled him to the heart. Without think- 
 ing t>f the flying enemy, he leaped to the ground and raised 
 the unhappy Leila, pale and bleeding, with distorted features. 
 A deep wound was gaping in her throat, and her eyes were 
 sightless, " Leila, my love, speak to me !" cried Abdallah, 
 clasping his wife to his heart, while he tried to stanch the 
 gaping wound from which her life-blood was ebbing. Leila 
 no longer heard him. He seated himself on the sand with 
 his precious burden, and, taking Leila's hand, raised one finger 
 in the air. " My child," said he, " repeat with me, * There is 
 no God but God, and Mohammed is his prophet/ Answer 
 me, I entreat you ; it is your husband it is Abdallah that calls 
 you." 
 
 At this name Leila started ; her eyes sought him whom she 
 loved, and her lips half opened ; then her head fell on Abdal- 
 lah's shoulder like the head of a dying hare on the shoulder 
 of the hunter. 
 
 When the Beni Amurs joined the son of Yusuf, they found 
 him motionless in the same place, holding his wife in his 
 
346 Fairy Book. 
 
 arms and gazing in her face, which seemed to smile on him. 
 They surrounded their companion in silence, and more than 
 one wept. 
 
 At the sight of the corpse Halima uttered a cry of anguish, 
 and threw herself on her son's neck ; then, suddenly rising, 
 "Are we avenged?" said she. "Is Omar dead? is the negro 
 slain?" 
 
 "See those crows gathering yonder," said one of the Bed- 
 ouins ; " there is the murderer of Hafiz. Omar has escaped 
 us, but the simoom is rising ; it will overtake him before he 
 can escape from the desert, and before an hour the sand will 
 serve as his winding-sheet." 
 
 " My son, summon up your courage," said Halima. " Our 
 enemy still lives ; leave tears to women. Leave us to bury 
 the dead ; go, punish the traitor ; God will go with you." 
 
 These words reanimated Abdallah. " God is great !" he 
 cried. " You are right, my mother ; to you the tears, and to 
 me the vengeance." 
 
 He rose and placed Leila in his mother's arms ; then, gaz- 
 ing at her pale face with infinite tenderness, " Peace be with 
 thee, daughter of my soul," he said, in a slow and grave voice. 
 " Peace be with thee, who art now in the presence of the 
 Lord. Receive what has been promised thee. It is God 
 that raises us up, it is God that casts us down ; it is God 
 that gives us life, it is God that sends us death. If it pleases 
 God, we shall soon join thee. O God, forgive him, and for- 
 give us !" 
 
 He raised his hands to heaven, murmured the Fat-hah, and, 
 passing his hand over his brow, embraced his mother and 
 mounted his horse. 
 
 " Where are you going ?" said a sheik. " Do you not see 
 that fiery cloud advancing? We have barely time to reach 
 the Red Rocks ; death is yonder." 
 
Abdallah; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 347 
 
 " Farewell," answered Abdallah. " There is no more rest 
 for me except in the shadow of death." 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 VENGEANCE. 
 
 SCARCELY had the son of Yusuf quitted his friends when he 
 found himself before a corpse ; it was the negro, already cov- 
 ered with birds of prey. " God hates the treacherous," mur- 
 mured the Bedouin 3 " he will deliver the son of Mansour into 
 my hand." 
 
 The whirlwind was approaching ; the sky was of a milky 
 white ; the rayless sun looked like a burning millstone ; and 
 a poisonous blast dried up the saliva in the throat, and melted 
 the marrow of the bones. A noise was heard in the distance 
 like that of an angry sea ; whirlwinds of red dust rose from 
 the sand, and mounted in columns to the sky, like giants with 
 faces of fire and arms of vapor. Every where there was des- 
 olation, every where an implacable heat, and at moments a 
 silence even more horrible than the moaning of the simoom. 
 
 Over this land, parched with drought, Hamama advanced 
 slowly, with panting breath and palpitating sides. Her mas- 
 ter had the tranquillity of a man that knows neither hope nor 
 fear. He felt neither heat nor thirst ; one thought alone 
 ruled his body and soul to overtake the assassin and kill 
 him. 
 
 After an hour's march he saw a horse stretched on the 
 sand. A little farther on he heard something like a sigh. He 
 approached the spot. A man lay in the dust perishing with 
 thirst, and without strength to utter a cry. It was the son of 
 Mansour. His eyes were starting from his head, his mouth 
 was wide open, and his hands were pressed to his panting 
 chest. Delirious with pain, he did not recognize Abdallah ; 
 
348 Fairy Book. 
 
 all that he could do was to carry his fingers to his parched 
 throat. 
 
 " Yes, you shall have water," said the Bedouin ; " not in 
 this way shall you die." 
 
 He dismounted from his horse, took a skin of water from 
 the saddle-bow, and, after throwing away Omar's pistols and 
 sabre, put it to the lips of the dying man. Omar drank deep- 
 ly of the water which restored his life, and found himself face 
 to face with Abdallah. 
 
 " You have saved me," murmured he ; "I recognize your 
 inexhaustible goodness. You are a brother to those who 
 have no brothers, a life-giving dew to the unfortunate." 
 
 " Son of Mansour, you must die," said the young man. 
 
 " Pardon, my brother !" cried the merchant, recovering the 
 consciousness of danger ; " you have not saved my life to put 
 me to death ! Pardon, in the name of what is dearest to you 
 on earth pardon, in the name of her who nourished us 
 both." 
 
 " Halima curses you," returned Abdallah ; "you must die." 
 
 Terrified at the sinister air of the Bedouin, Omar fell on his 
 knees. " My brother, I acknowledge my guilt," said he. " I 
 have deserved your anger ; but, however great my fault, can 
 I not redeem it ? Take all my fortune ; be the richest man 
 in Arabia." 
 
 " You have killed Hafiz you have killed Leila ; you must 
 die," said Abdallah. 
 
 " Leila dead !" exclaimed the son of Mansour, bursting into 
 tears; "it can not be. Her blood be on her murderer's 
 head ; I am not guilty of it. Spare me, Abdallah ; have pity 
 on me." 
 
 " As well implore the gates of the tomb," replied the son of 
 Yusuf. " Make haste," he added, drawing his sabre. " May 
 God give you patience to endure the affliction he sends you." 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 349 
 
 " At least, my brother," returned Omar, in a voice of emo- 
 tion, " give me time for a last prayer. You would not have 
 the angel of death seize me before I have implored the mercy 
 of God?" 
 
 " Say your prayers," replied Abdallah. 
 
 The merchant unrolled his turban and spread it before 
 him ; then, throwing his robe over his shoulders and bowing 
 his head, he awaited the death-blow. 
 
 "God is great!" he murmured; "there is no strength nor 
 power but in God. To him we belong ; to him we must re- 
 turn. O God ! sovereign of the day of retribution, deliver 
 me from the fires of hell ; have pity on me." 
 
 Abdallah gazed at him, weeping. " It must be," he said 
 to himself "it must be;" yet his heart failed him. This 
 wretch was his brother ; he had lov^ him he still loved him. 
 When love has once entered the soul, it lodges there like the 
 ball in the flesh ; tear it out if you will, the wound still re- 
 mains. In vain the son of Yusuf sought to rouse his courage 
 by calling to mind the images of his slaughtered uncle and 
 dying wife ; despite himself, he could see nothing but the 
 happy days of childhood, Halima clasping both her children 
 to her breast, and old Hafiz taking them in his arms to tell 
 them of his adventures in battle. The pleasures they had 
 shared, the sorrows they had had in common, all these sweet 
 recollections rose from the past to protect the son of Man- 
 sour. Strange to say, the victims themselves appeared to ask 
 pardon for the assassin. " He is thy brother, and defense- 
 less," said the old soldier. " He is thy brother," cried Leila, 
 in tears ; " do not slay him." " No, no," murmured the young 
 man, repulsing the beloved phantoms, " it must be. Not to 
 punish crime is to betray justice." 
 
 In spite of the trouble of the son of Mansour, Abdallah's 
 hesitation did not escape his keen eye. Bathed in tears, he 
 
350 
 
 Fairy Book. 
 
 
 clasped the knees of his judge. " Oh, my brother," he said, 
 " do not add thy iniquity to mine. Remember what Abel said 
 to his brother when threatened by him : ' If thou stretchest 
 forth thine hand to slay me, I will not stretch forth my hand 
 against thee to slay thee ; for I fear God, the lord of all crea- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 351 
 
 tures.' Alas ! my folly has been greater than that of Cain. 
 Thou hast a right to kill me ; my life is too little to expiate 
 the crime to which I have been led by my passions. But the 
 forgiving God loves those who follow his example ; he has 
 promised indulgence to those who remember him ; leave me 
 to repent. He has promised a paradise whose breadth equal- 
 eth the heavens and the earth to those who bridle their anger ; 
 pardon me that God may show thee mercy, for God loveth the 
 beneficent." 
 
 " Rise !" said Abdallah ; " thy words have saved thee. Venge- 
 ance belongs to God alone. Let the Lord be thy judge ; I 
 will not dip my hands in the blood of him whom my mother 
 has nursed." 
 
 " Wilt thou abandon me here ?" said Omar, looking round 
 him anxiously ; " it would be more cruel than to slay me." 
 
 For his sole answer, Abdallah pointed to Hamama. Omar 
 sprang on the mare, and, without turning his head, buried his 
 spurs in her flanks and disappeared. 
 
 " Well," thought he, as he rode through the billows of sand 
 upheaved by the wind, " if I escape the simoom, I am saved 
 from the peril predicted me. This Abdallah is very impru- 
 dent to remain in the desert in such weather, alone, without a 
 horse, and without water. No matter ; his folly be on his own 
 head. I will forget these accursed Bedouins, who have never 
 brought me any thing but misfortume. The time has come 
 at last to live for myself." 
 
35 2 Fairy Book. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 THE DIAMOND LEAF. 
 
 THE wicked laugheth in his heart at his success, and saith, 
 " I am cunning, and cunning is the queen of the world." The 
 just submitteth to whatever may befall him, and saith, lifting 
 his hands to heaven, " O Lord, thou causeth to err whom 
 thou pleaseth, and directeth whom thou pleaseth; thou art 
 the mighty, and the wise ; what thou doeth is well done." 
 
 Abdallah turned his steps homeward with profound sad- 
 ness. His soul was still troubled ; he had expelled its anger, 
 but could not uproot its grief. Large tears trickled down his 
 face, while he made vain efforts to check them. " Forgive 
 me, O Lord," he cried ; " be indulgent to the weakness of a 
 heart that can not submit. The prophet has said, ' The eyes 
 are made for tears and the flesh for affliction.' Glory to him 
 who holdeth the dominion over all things in his hands ! May 
 he give me strength to endure what he has willed !" 
 
 He walked on thus in prayer amid the sands and the fiery 
 whirlwinds ; heat and fatigue soon forced him to stop. The 
 blood in his veins was turned to fire ; a strange disorder 
 troubled his brain, and he was no longer the master either of 
 his senses or thoughts. Devoured with a burning thirst, at 
 moments both sight and hearing deserted him ; then he saw 
 in the distance gardens full of verdure and lakes bordered 
 with flowers ; the wind whistled through the trees, and a 
 spring gushed from among the grass. At this refreshing 
 sight, he dragged himself toward these enchanting waters. 
 Vain illusion ! gardens and running springs all vanished at 
 his approach ; there was naught about him but sand and fire. 
 Exhausted and breathless, Abdallah felt that his last hour was 
 approaching. " There is no god but God, and Mohammed is 
 his prophet," he cried. " It is written that I shall never de- 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 353 
 
 part from this place. O Lord, come to my aid \ remove far 
 from me the horrors of death !" 
 
 He knelt and washed his face with the sand of the desert ; 
 then, drawing his sabre, began to dig his own tomb. 
 
 As he began to stir the earth, it suddenly seemed to him 
 that the simoom had vanished. The horizon lighted up with 
 a glow softer than the dawn, and the clouds slowly opened 
 like the curtains of a tent. Was it the mirage ? None can 
 tell ; but Abdallah stood mute with surprise and admiration. 
 Before him bloomed a vast garden, watered by brooks flowing 
 in all directions. Trees with trunks of gold, leaves of emer- 
 ald, and fruits of topaz and ruby, covered broad lawns, enam- 
 eled with strange flowers, with their luxuriant shade. Beauti- 
 ful youths, clad in green satin and adorned with costly jewels, 
 reclined on magnificent cushions and carpets, looking lovingly 
 at each other, and drinking from silver cups that water, whiter 
 than milk and sweeter than honey, which quencheth the thirst 
 forever. By the side of the youths stood enchanting maidens, 
 with large black eyes and modest mien. Created of the light, 
 and like it transparent, their grace ravished the eyes and the 
 heart; their face shone with a softer lustre than the moon 
 emerging from the clouds. In this kingdom of delights and 
 peace, these happy couples were smilingly conversing, while 
 lovely children, eternally young, surrounded them like strings 
 of pearl, each holding a vase more sparkling than crystal, and 
 pouring out for the blessed that inexhaustible liquor which 
 never intoxicates, and the taste of which is more delicious 
 than the fragrance of the pink. In the distance was heard 
 the angel Israfil, the most melodious of the creatures of God. 
 The houris joined their enchanting voices to the notes of the 
 angel, and the very trees rustled their leaves, and celebrated 
 the divine praise with a harmony exceeding all that man has 
 ever dreamed. 
 
354 Fairy Book. 
 
 While Abdallah admired these marvels in silence, an angel 
 descended toward him ; not the terrible Azrael, but the mes- 
 senger of celestial favors, the good and lovely Gabriel. He 
 held in his hand a tiny diamond leaf; but, small as it was, it 
 shed a light that illumined the whole desert. His soul intox- 
 icated with joy, the son of Yusuf ran to meet the angel. He 
 paused in terror ; at his feet was a vast gulf, full of fire and 
 smoke, bridged only by an immense arch made of a blade of 
 steel, which was finer than a hair and sharper than a razor. 
 
 The Bedouin was already seized with despair, when he felt 
 himself supported and urged on by an invisible power. Hafiz 
 and Leila were on either side of him. He did not see them ; 
 he dared not turn for fear of awaking ; but he felt their pres- 
 ence, he heard their soothing words ; both supported and car- 
 ried him along with them. " In the name of the clement and 
 merciful God !" he cried. At these words, which are the key 
 to Paradise, he was transported, like lightning, to the other 
 side of the bridge. The angel was there, holding out the 
 mysterious flower. The young man seized it. At last the 
 four-leaved clover was his, the ardor of desire was quenched, 
 the veil of the body was lifted, the hour of recompense had 
 struck. Gabriel turned his eyes toward the bottom of the 
 garden, where divine majesty was enthroned. Abdallah's 
 glance followed that of the angel, and the eternal splendor 
 flashed in his face. At this lustre, which no eye can endure, 
 he fell with his face to the ground, uttering a loud cry. 
 
 This cry man's ear has never heard, man's voice has never 
 repeated. The delirious joy of the shipwrecked mariner who 
 escapes the fury of the waves, the delight of the bridegroom 
 who presses his beloved for the first time to his heart, the 
 transports of the mother who finds the son whom she has wept 
 all the joys of earth are naught but mourning and sorrow 
 to the cry of happiness which rose from the soul of Abdallah ; 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 355 
 
 At this voice, repeated afar by the echoes, the earth re- 
 sumed the beauty of its days of innocence and blossomed with 
 the flowers of Paradise ; the sky, bluer than sapphire, seemed 
 to smile upon the earth; then gradually silence fell on all 
 things, the heavens darkened, and the whirlwind regained do- 
 minion of the desert. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE HAPPINESS OF OMAR. 
 
 ON re-entering his house at Djiddah, the son of Mansour 
 experienced the joy of a criminal escaped from death; he 
 shut himself up to regain his composure, and again viewed 
 his wealth and handled his gold ; it was his life and his pow- 
 er ! Did not his treasures give him the means to subjugate 
 men and the right to despise them ? 
 
 Nevertheless, the pleasure of Omar was not unmixed ; there 
 was still more than one danger in perspective. If Abdallah 
 reached home, might he not regret his clemency? If he 
 should die in the desert, would he not have an avenger? 
 Might not the sherif think himself offended ? Might not the 
 pacha set an extortionate price on his protection ? The son 
 of Mansour drove away these importunate thoughts. " Why 
 be terrified," thought he, " when the most imminent peril is 
 past, thanks to my address? Am I at the end of my re- 
 sources ? My real enemies have fallen ; shall I not overcome 
 the others ? Life is a treasure that diminishes daily ; what 
 folly to waste it in vain anxieties ! How difficult it is to be 
 perfectly happy here on earth !" 
 
 These reasonable fears were followed by other cares which 
 astonished the son of Mansour. In spite of himself, he thought 
 of old Hafiz whom he had murdered ; nor could he put aside 
 
356 Fairy Book. 
 
 the remembrance of Leila, or of his brother dying in the des- 
 ert, the victim of a generous devotion. 
 
 " Away with these foolish imaginings, that whiten the beard 
 before the time !" cried he. " What weakness to think of such 
 things ! Can I change destiny ? If old Hafiz is no more, it 
 is because his time had come. On the day that Abdallah was 
 born, his death was written before God. Why shall I, there- 
 fore, trouble myself? Am I not rich? I buy the conscience 
 of others ; I will buy repose for my own heart." 
 
 It was in vain for him to try ; his soul was like the restless 
 ocean, which, unable to appease its angry waves, casts up mire 
 and foam upon the shore. " I must gain time," thought he ; 
 " these feelings are nothing but a remnant of agitation, which 
 fools call remorse, but which is nothing but a little fatigue 
 and feverishness. I know how to cure it ; I have a wine of 
 Shiraz which has more than once consoled me ; why not seek 
 patience and forgetfulness therein ?" 
 
 He went to his harem, and called a Persian slave with an 
 enchanting voice a heretic who was not shocked at the use 
 of the cup, and who poured out with infernal grace this poison 
 accursed by all true Mussulmen. 
 
 " How pale you are, master !" said she, on seeing the dis- 
 composed features of the son of Mansour. 
 
 " It is the fatigue from a long journey," answered Omar. 
 " Pour me some wine, and sing me one of the songs of your 
 country, to drive away care and bring back mirth." 
 
 The slave brought two crystal cups set in gold, which she 
 filled with a liquor as yellow as gold and as clear as amber ; 
 then, taking a tambourine, she struck it alternately with her 
 hand and elbow, and waved it over her head, while she sang 
 one of the perfumed odes of the Bulbul of Shiraz. 
 
 " Pass round the flowing bowl, child, 
 Filled to the brim with bright wine ; 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 357 
 
 All the ills and the woes of life 
 
 Are healed in this juice divine. 
 Has Time writ his lines on thy brow ? 
 
 Has sleep through the night fled thine eyes? 
 Cast into these liquid flames 
 
 Thy regretful cares and thy sighs. 
 
 " Away with that drinker morose, 
 
 Who mourns for the years that are gone ; 
 In these wines of amber and rose 
 
 The flowers and the spring live on. 
 Are the roses dead in thy bowers ? 
 
 Has the nightingale left thee alone ? 
 Drink, drink, and the clink of the glass 
 
 Shall be sweet as the bulbul's tone. 
 
 " Leave Fortune, the treacherous sprite, 
 
 To the weak or the wicked throng ; 
 What good can she gi ve us more, 
 
 Since she leaves us wine and song ? 
 The false one, lightly betrayed, 
 
 Nightly in visions I see ; 
 Oh, wine, give me back the sweet dream I 
 
 Oblivion and love are in thee." 
 
 " Yes, give me oblivion," cried the son of Mansour. " I 
 know not what is the matter with me to-day ; this wine sad- 
 dens instead of diverting me. Strike your instrument louder, 
 sing faster, make more noise, intoxicate me." 
 
 The beautiful Persian sang merrily, striking her tambour- 
 ine : 
 
 " Hafiz, thou squanderest life ; 
 
 ' In the wine-cup death lurks,' say the old; 
 Oh sages, he envies you not, 
 
 Nor your snowy locks nor your gold. 
 You may chide him, but still he will drink ; 
 
 Day and night he will still drink deep, 
 For wine only can cause him to smile, 
 
 Wine only can cause him to weep." 
 
 " Curses on you !" cried Omar, raising his hand to strike 
 the slave, who fled affrighted. " What name do you bring 
 me ? Can not the dead rest in their graves ? Will they come 
 even here to trouble my repose ? After ridding myself of my 
 
35 8 Fairy Book. 
 
 enemies, shall I care for phantoms ? Away with these chime- 
 ras ! I will tear out these memories from my heart ; in spite 
 of them all, I will laugh and be happy." As he said this, he 
 uttered a cry of terror. Cafour stood before him. 
 
 " Where do you come from, child of the devil ?" he ex- 
 claimed. " What are you doing in my house ?" 
 
 " That is what I wish to know," answered the child ; " it 
 was not by my will that your servants carried me to your 
 harem." 
 
 " Begone ! I do not wish to see you." 
 
 " I will not go till you have given me back my mistress. I 
 belong to Leila ; I wish to serve her." 
 
 "Your mistress has no more need of your services." 
 
 "Why?" said the negress. 
 
 "Why?" replied the son of Mansour, in a broken voice. 
 " You will know by-and-by. Leila is in the desert ; go and 
 find her." 
 
 " No," said Cafour, " I shall stay here, and wait for Ab- 
 dallah." 
 
 "Abdallah is not in my house." 
 
 " He is ; I. have seen his horse." 
 
 "My servants brought away the horse at the same, time 
 with you." 
 
 " No, they did not," returned Cafour ; " before your serv- 
 ants seized me, I had let Hamama loose. She was more for- 
 tunate than I ; she escaped. If she is here, Abdallah must 
 be here too ; if not, what have you done with your brother ?" 
 
 " Away from here, insolent wretch ; I will not be question- 
 ed by you. Dread my anger ; I can cause you to die under 
 the bastinado." His eyes glared at these words like a mad- 
 man's. 
 
 " Why do you threaten me ?" said Cafour, in a milder tone. 
 " Although I am but a slave, perhaps I can serve you. You 
 
Abdallah ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 359 
 
 have some hidden trouble ; I see it in your face. This trouble 
 I can dispel. In my country we have spells to cure the heart. 
 Were sorrow or even remorse preying upon your soul, I could 
 draw it thence as the bezoar stone draws the venom from a 
 wound." 
 
 " You have this power, a child like you !" said Omar, iron- 
 ically, looking at Cafour, whose eyes steadfastly met his gaze. 
 "Why not?" he added; "these Maghrebi negroes are all chil- 
 dren of Satan ; they know their father's secrets. Well, yes, I 
 have a sorrow ; cure me, and I will reward you." 
 
 " Have you any hasheesh in your house ?" said Cafour. 
 " Let me mix you a drink ; I will restore your gayety." 
 
 "Do what you will," replied Omar. "You are a slave; 
 you know that I am rich and generous. I have confidence 
 in you ; I wish at any price to enjoy life." 
 
 Cafour soon found the hasheesh leaves. She brought them 
 to the son of Mansour, who followed her movements with an 
 eager eye. She took the plant, washed it three times, and 
 rubbed it in her hands, muttering strange words. She then 
 pounded the leaves in a copper mortar, and mixed them with 
 spices and milk. " Here is the cup of oblivion," said she ; 
 " drink and fear nothing." 
 
 No sooner had Omar drank than he felt his head suddenly 
 grow light ; his eyes dilated, and his senses became marvel- 
 ously acute, yet, strange to say, he seemed moved by the will 
 of Cafour. If she sang, he repeated the song ; if she laughed, 
 he burst into shouts of merriment ; if she was grave, he wept ; 
 if she threatened him, he trembled. As soon as the negress 
 saw him in her power, she set to work to wrest his secret from 
 him. 
 
 " You are satisfied," said she ; " you are avenged on your 
 enemies ?" 
 
 "Yes, I am satisfied." said Omar, laughing; "I am 
 
360 Fairy Book. 
 
 avenged. The beautiful Leila will no longer love her Bed- 
 ouin." 
 
 " Is she dead ?" asked Cafour, in a trembling voice. 
 
 " She is dead," said Omar, weeping ; " but I did not kill 
 her : it was the negro. Poor woman ! she would have been so 
 well off in my harem !" 
 
 " And you no longer fear Abdallah !" said Cafour, with an 
 exulting air. 
 
 " No, I do not fear him. I took his horse, and left him 
 alone in the desert exposed to the simoom. He will never 
 more quit it." 
 
 " Lost in the sands dead, perhaps !" cried Cafour, tearing 
 her clothes. 
 
 " How could it be helped !" said Omar, in a plaintive voice. 
 " It was destiny. It had been predicted to me that my best 
 friend would be my worst enemy. The dead always love you ; 
 they harm no one." 
 
 " What friend had you to fear, you who had never loved any 
 human being ?" cried the negress. " Hold !" she added, struck 
 with a sudden inspiration ; " shall I show you this friend who 
 will cause your death ?" 
 
 "No, no," exclaimed Omar, trembling like a child threat- 
 ened with the rod. " Amuse me, Cafour ; do not make me 
 sad." 
 
 " Look," said the slave, placing a mirror before his eyes. 
 " See the assassin of Hafiz see the murderer of Leila see 
 the fratricide see the villain see him for whom there is no 
 more repose ! Wretch ! you have loved no one but yourself; 
 your selfishness has been your ruin your selfishness will be 
 your death." 
 
 At the sight of her contracted features and haggard eyes 
 Omar stood terrified. A new light dawned on his soul ; he 
 abhorred himself, and tore his beard in despair. Shame soon 
 
Abdallak ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 361 
 
 restored his consciousness : he looked around him, and, at the 
 sight of Cafour possessed of his secret, he fell into a parox- 
 ysm of rage. " Wait, child of perdition !" he cried, " I will 
 punish your insolence ; I will send you to join your Abdallah." 
 
 Giddy as he was, he attempted to rise ; his foot slipped ; he 
 struck against the table, and dragged the lamp with him in 
 his fall ; his clothes caught fire, and in an instant his whole 
 body was in flames. " Die, villain !" cried Cafour ; " die like 
 a dog ! Abdallah is avenged !" 
 
 The son of Mansour uttered lamentable shrieks, which 
 reached the inmates of the harem. They ran to his aid. At 
 the sound of their footsteps, Cafour set her foot on the face 
 of Omar, and with a bound sprang to the outer door and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 TWO FRIENDS. 
 
 WHILE the slaves flew to the succor of the son of Mansour, 
 Cafour saddled Hamama, took a skin of water and some pro- 
 visions, and galloped through the narrow streets of Djiddah. 
 The night was dark, and the storm was rumbling in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 The child began to stroke the horse and talk to it, as if the 
 brute understood the language of men. " Oh, dear Hamama," 
 said she, " take me to your master. Together, we will save 
 Abdallah. You know how much he loves you ; no other 
 hand has cared for you ; help me to find him. Thanks to 
 you, I will restore him to his mother ; together we will weep 
 for Leila, and I will comfort him. Do this, dear Hamama, 
 and I will love you." She embraced the horse, and, stretch- 
 ing herself along the neck of the animal, gave it full rein. 
 Hamama darted onward like an arrow, as if led by an invis- 
 
 Q 
 
362 Fairy Book. 
 
 ible hand. As she rushed past an Arnaut post at daybreak, 
 the frightened sentinel discharged his gun, declaring that he 
 had seen Satan mounted on a white horse fleeter than the 
 wind. 
 
 Thus flew Hamama, without pausing or needing to drink. 
 A strange instinct impelled her toward her master. She went 
 straight toward him, regardless of the beaten track, over rocks, 
 through beds of rivers and across deep gullies, with God for a 
 guide. 
 
 Toward midday Cafour perceived Abdallah in the distance, 
 prostrate on the sand, as if in prayer. " Master ! master !" 
 she cried, "here I am." But neither the tread of the horse 
 nor the cries of the child roused Abdallah from his contem- 
 plation. Hamama stopped, but he did not stir. Cafour, 
 trembling, ran to him. He seemed asleep ; his face was beam- 
 ing with ecstasy ; a heavenly smile was on his lips ; sorrow 
 had fled that countenance which had been a prey to such suf- 
 fering. " Master ! master ! speak to me," cried the poor slave, 
 clasping him in her arms. He was cold ; life had quitted the 
 mortal covering ; God had called to himself this spirit made 
 for heaven. 
 
 " Abdallah !" cried Cafour, throwing herself on him and cov- 
 ering him with kisses, " Abdallah, I loved thee !" And she 
 rendered up her soul to God. 
 
 Hamama gazed long at the two friends with anxiety, and 
 laid her burning nostrils again and again on Cafour's cheek ; 
 then she stretched herself on the sand, with her eyes fixed on 
 the two bodies, to await the awakening of those who were 
 never to wake again on earth. 
 
 Long after, some Bedouins, wandering in the desert, discov- 
 ered Abdallah and Cafour in the sands, so closely embraced 
 that it was necessary to put them both into the same coffin. 
 Strange to say, the beasts of prey had devoured the horse, but 
 
Abdallak ; or, The Four-leaved Clover. 363 
 
 not a vulture had alighted by day on the head of Abdallah, 
 not a jackal had touched by night the body of Cafour. 
 
 Under the shade of the palms by the Well of the Benedic- 
 tion, two mounds of earth, surrounded with stones to keep off 
 the jackals, mark the spot where the Bedouin, the Egyptian, 
 and the negress await together the day of judgment. The 
 fragrant jessamine, trailing from the branches of the trees, fes- 
 toons the tomb, and surrounds it all the year with odorous 
 blossoms. Here the weeping Halima mourned her children, 
 till summoned by Azrael to join them ; and here the wearied 
 travelers pause, before quenching their thirst at the blessed 
 well, to recite a Fat-hah in honor of Abdallah, well named 
 the servant of God/* 
 
 * Abdallah, in Arabic, signifies the servant of God. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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