Chapter 2

Hearing this, King Gorkol ordered them to be confined separately in two dungeons of his castle, there to remain until a great festival of the gods which was approaching should arrive, when he would sacrifice them both to the gods whom they had dared to despise. Locked in the gloomy vaults, and seeing no one but the jailer who once a day brought them the scanty and hard fare necessary to keep them alive till the day of vengeance should come, their position seemed altogether desperate and their fate assured.

But in the case of King Selim he had, unknown to his captors and concealed in the folds of his turban, a ruby of great size and of immense value. With this he hoped to be able to bribe his jailer and effect his escape. And in fact so well did he manage that before a week was passed he was travelling homewards in the disguise of a merchant, accompanied by the jailer, who dared not remain in his own country in possession of the ruby because, according to the custom prevailing in that kingdom, all precious stones must be surrendered to the king under penalty of death by torture. He therefore fled with Selim, disguised as his slave.

The king had made great efforts to induce the jailer to effect the release of the Caliph at the same time as himself, but as Haroun Alraschid was in charge of another jailer, it could not be managed. Selim was obliged therefore, to his great grief, to leave the Caliph to his fate; but he hurried back to his own dominions with the utmost speed, determined to at once return with another army to avenge the death of the Caliph, whose life he could not hope to arrive in time to save.

The Caliph, having about him neither jewels nor money, had no means of propitiating his jailer or abating the rigour and severity of the treatment to which he was subjected. Once a day only, early in the morning, the jailer appeared, and, without opening the great heavy door of the dungeon, he opened one panel only, and through that opening handed to his prisoner the two small loaves, or rather, flat cakes, and the flask of water which must supply his wants till the following morning.

Five days had thus passed, and there seemed no possibility of the Caliph escaping the painful and humiliating death to which he was destined by the heathen king. The festival to be held in honour of the gods of the country was approaching, and two days hence the people, who were already becoming greatly excited, both by religious fury and also by drinking great quantities of a strong and fiery spirit which they distilled, were to be gratified by the sight of the sacrifice by horrible tortures of their unfortunate prisoners.

Just before daybreak on the sixth day, the same morning on which Selim and his jailer were effecting their escape, the Caliph awoke, and thoughts of the frightful situation in which he found himself prevented him from again falling asleep. In great distress of mind he prayed earnestly to God that strength might be given him to enable him to sustain with firmness and fortitude the pains he might be called upon to endure. After which prayer he felt calmer and more composed. Presently, being very hungry, he tried in the dim light to find a small piece of bread which he had not yet eaten. He had placed it on a narrow ledge near to the place where he slept, but in the darkness he pushed it with his hand before he had grasped it, and it fell upon the floor. Groping about to find it, his hand came suddenly upon something which felt soft and cool--an object apparently about the size and shape of a hen's egg, yet not hard like an egg-shell, but elastic and yielding readily to the pressure of the fingers. What it was the sense of touch did not enable him to guess, and as yet the light was insufficient to permit him to distinguish anything clearly. And, marvellous to relate, as the light increased, although all the objects around him became visible, yet this something which he had felt, and which he still felt to be grasped in his hand, was nevertheless not to be seen. This circumstance surprised the Caliph very much, and he sat cross-legged on the straw which had been placed in the corner of the dungeon for him to sleep on, just as he had been used to do on the splendid divan in his palace, still grasping the unknown object in his hand, and yet still unable to see what it was. After he had sat thus for some time cogitating what this might mean, the hour came round when the jailer should come and bring him his food for the day.

Now it so happened that the Caliph's jailer when bringing his food had to pass the dungeon in which Selim had been confined. This morning as he passed he was amazed to observe that the door was unfastened, and, looking in, he perceived that the vault was empty. Fearful that his prisoner might likewise have effected his escape, he hurriedly set down the food and ran on to the dungeon containing the Caliph.

The latter was surprised to hear his jailer running rapidly along the passage, and still more surprised when the man, after looking through the panel, withdrew the huge bolts and, opening the door, came into the great gloomy vault, looking excitedly about him. Then after a few moments, apparently bewildered and terror-struck, he turned about, went out, closed the door behind him, and, without waiting to replace the bolts, walked quickly along the passage and disappeared.

The Caliph, although unable to guess to what he owed his good fortune, did not neglect to avail himself of it. Pushing open the door, and stopping to close it and bolt it behind him, he walked down the corridor without knowing where and to what it might lead him. This passage or corridor seemed at first sight to terminate with a dead wall at the end of it. But, proceeding further along it, he presently perceived a side-passage turning out of it at right angles, and this smaller passage, which was short, terminated in a flight of steps leading evidently into the castle-yard. The door at the top of the steps was partly open, and when he reached it the Caliph could hear and catch glimpses of a group of soldiers standing and chatting together not far from the doorway. He stood for some moments uncertain what he should do. If he opened the door and went out, doubtless he would immediately be seized; on the other hand, to stay where he was meant no less certain destruction, as at any moment some one might enter and find him there. He had just determined to step out boldly and risk detection, in the hope that in the bustle of the castle-yard his exit might pass unnoticed, when a gust of wind blew the door wide open, and he stood face to face, not ten paces distant, with that group of soldiers he had heard conversing.

For a moment he stood horror-struck, expecting to see them rush forward and secure him. To his extreme surprise, none of them, not even those facing him, took the slightest notice of his presence. They appeared not even to see him, but perhaps they took him for one of the innumerable retainers of the Court; at any rate, the Caliph, plucking up courage, stepped out and walked quietly away.

As he was crossing the courtyard, a great mounted warrior on a powerful black steed came pounding along, and would apparently have ridden right over the Caliph just as though he was unaware of his existence, but Haroun drew quickly aside, and the horse shied, thereby drawing upon itself many hard blows from the fierce and haughty rider.

Passing out of the castle-gates, and turning eastward, as he judged, by the position of the sun, the Caliph proceeded in the direction which would enable him, he hoped, in due time, to reach his own country. He had not gone far when he met a rough country fellow who carried a long piece of wood on his shoulder, and Haroun would have been struck full in the face with it had he not stepped quickly on one side to avoid it. But the man, although he passed close by him, neither looked at nor spoke to him, and seemed altogether unconscious of his presence.

It now first dawned upon the Caliph that the strange and invisible substance which he had picked up in the dungeon, and which he still carried in his hand, possessed indeed the marvellous property of rendering him entirely invisible to other men. This accounted for the remarkable panic of his jailer, who, when he looked into, and even entered his dungeon, failed to see him; it explained why the soldiers had permitted him to leave the building unmolested, why the horseman had nearly ridden over him, and why the clown who had just passed had, without knowing it, nearly brained him with his load.

Much comforted and strengthened by the discovery of this wonderful exemption from observation which he now enjoyed, he walked on briskly, till the sun, being now high in the heavens, and the heat very great, he came to a village, and entering boldly an inn there, and passing through into an empty apartment, he lay down upon a not very soft divan he found in it, and straightway fell asleep.

The Caliph being tired with the walk and the excitement of the morning, slept so long and soundly that it was night and quite dark when he awoke. And being even then but half awake he did not realize that he was no longer in the castle-dungeon; therefore, perceiving that it was not yet light, he turned over and went to sleep again. In a few hours' time, in the midst of a dream that he was in his own palace at Bagdad and presiding at some great feast, he awoke once more, saw that it was beginning to be light, remembered where he was, and found himself exceedingly hungry. Going, therefore, very quietly into the next apartment, he found the innkeeper lying there soundly asleep, and on the table the remains of a substantial supper. At once seating himself, the Caliph was not long in finishing the repast and assuaging the pangs of hunger.

Having all his life been used to eat and drink whatever he required, without any thought of payment, it is very likely that he might have eaten his meal and departed without the least concern or thought of the fact that he possessed at that moment nothing to pay for it. However, it so fell out that he was enabled to recompense his involuntary host very handsomely. For after he had finished eating, and before he rose from his seat, he heard a slight rustling sound outside the room, as though some one were stealthily approaching.

Now the Caliph, before lying down to rest on the previous afternoon, had taken the precaution to bestow the mysterious and wonderful charm he had picked up, in a place of safety. He had put it inside his turban, in such a way that he could feel it pressing like a soft elastic pad upon his forehead. And therefore, in virtue of his contact with that charm, he was still invisible to every other human being.

Such being the case, the thief peering into the room saw no one but the keeper of the inn, who was sleeping very soundly. Entering, therefore, with noiseless tread, his feet being bare, he approached the sleeper, and extracted very dexterously a small packet of coin which he carried secreted in his girdle. With this packet the thief glided from the room, and stopping outside but a single instant to place it inside the folds of his own turban, he walked briskly away.

The Caliph followed him closely. About a hundred yards from the door of the inn there flowed a small stream or brook, across which the only bridge was a couple of planks. Just as they arrived at this point the Caliph took off the fellow's turban, and, with a push from behind, threw him into the water. The stream was neither deep nor swift, and the thief soon picked himself up, scrambled to the other side, and then, without once looking back, took to his heels, being fully persuaded that it was the man he had just robbed who had pursued and overtaken him. The Caliph, after taking the parcel of coin out of the turban, which he then threw away, walked quietly back towards the inn, without deigning to bestow another thought on the thief whom he had thrown into the water.

Before he reached the door of the inn, he saw the innkeeper, who had awoke and discovered his loss, rush out of the house wild and bareheaded, his turban having tumbled or been knocked off in his excitement. Running past the invisible Caliph, and loudly cursing all villains and robbers, and especially that one who had just taken his money, he caught sight of the thief himself, scrambling up, dripping wet, on to the opposite bank of the stream, and, with much vociferation, he continued in hot pursuit. The noise he made brought out, of course, all those who had been passing the night at the inn, and very naturally they all commenced at once to follow the pursuer and pursued.

The Caliph then quietly entered the deserted house, and placing the packet of money carefully in the innkeeper's turban, where he would be sure to find it on his return from the chase, he left, and taking another road, and one leading, as far as he could judge, in the direction of his own dominions, he continued his journey.

He walked along for some hours without meeting any one except a few peasants, or encountering any noteworthy incident whatsoever.

At length he became tired with his long march, and the heat of the noontide sun became so oppressive, that, espying a thick clump of trees at a short distance from the road, he gladly made his way to that pleasant shelter, lay down on a grassy bank, with a log for his pillow, and composed himself to rest and sleep.

On waking, after two or three hours of very sound and refreshing sleep, he found that owing to some change in his position his turban had fallen off. This, in itself not very serious or remarkable accident, gave him on the present occasion much apprehension and concern. For in his turban he had placed, as has been mentioned, the invisible object, whatever it might be, which had in some inexplicable manner conferred upon him also, while he was in contact with it, the condition of invisibility.

He took up the turban most carefully, he felt in it, he put it on, but nowhere could he encounter the soft, cool sensation with which he had become familiar. He groped laboriously all round the spot where he had been lying, but in vain. Whether the object had rolled away, or whether it had been carried to a distance by the breeze, or possibly had even been dissipated altogether, he could not determine. One thing only was clear and beyond conjecture--the charm was lost for ever.

Coming at last most unwillingly to that conclusion, he sat down cross-legged upon the grass as on a divan, resting his elbow upon the log which had served him for a pillow, and began to consider how he should manage to make his way back to his own dominions through that land of idolaters. He had no idea of the distance to be traversed, but he reflected that, having no longer the aid and protection of being invisible, and being possessed of no money, his difficulties must necessarily be great. Moreover, he was not without considerable anxiety as to what might have occurred at Bagdad while he had been absent. Giafer, indeed, to whom all the details of the government of the country had practically been confided for many years, he could thoroughly trust. But Ibrahim, who would probably have succeeded to the Caliphate, was known to hate the Grand Vizier, and would not only put him to death, but might also, not improbably, have taken measures to rid himself of Zobeideh and her son. Oppressed by these gloomy thoughts the Caliph sat for a long time without moving.

At length, hearing the tramp of horses in the distance, he looked up, and was overjoyed to behold two men coming along the road, whom he at once knew by their dress to be Arab merchants. Each was on horseback, and they had with them, besides several other horses, some mules and asses laden with packages. And there was also a kind of closed carriage or palanquin, borne by some slaves, in which no doubt was conveyed a lady or female slave of great value.

Now, when the Caliph saw these men approaching, he rose up quickly and went to meet them. When he drew near, he saluted them and inquired whither they went.

To which they replied: "To Bagdad." And they inquired of him how it came to pass that he should be on foot and alone in that pagan kingdom, seeing it was evident by his dress that he was a Moslim.

Now, the Caliph had already learnt by experience that to proclaim his true rank would be only to court a suspicion of madness, therefore he replied briefly, that he too was from Bagdad and was returning thither, but that unhappily he had been taken prisoner by the idolaters, and robbed of all that he had, except only the clothes upon his back. He begged them, therefore, to lend him a horse and to take him with them to Bagdad, in which city he had plenty both of friends and funds, and where he would reward them handsomely for their kindness.

To this they answered that since he was in distress he was very welcome to come with them, and that without any claim on their part for fee or reward, the more especially as they would be glad, while travelling through that wild and lawless country, to have another strong man of their party. With that they lent him a horse, and he, nothing loth, but glad enough to get his feet off the ground and his face turned towards home, rode cheerfully along with them.

The Caliph soon discovered that the two merchants were very intelligent men and agreeable fellow-travellers. The name of the one was Abdallah, and of the other Ahmed.

After the Caliph had been some time in their company, and their conversation had become more intimate and familiar, he ventured to inquire how they had fared on their present expedition, and in what sort of merchandize they had embarked their fortune.

"You must know," said Abdallah, who was always the chief speaker, "that both Ahmed and myself are well acquainted with several of the officers in the Palace of the Commander of the Faithful, whom Allah exalt, and also of some in the Palace of Zobeideh, his favourite wife. We always endeavour therefore, when trading in foreign countries, to buy such things as will sell well at court. The prices we get for our goods are in that way very satisfactory, although the profit we actually make is less than you might suppose, because all those officials who gain us an introduction to the palaces must have rich presents and high fees to recompense them for their trouble."

"And the Caliph, what sort of a man is he?" asked Haroun.

"He is," answered Abdallah, "a just man, and very brave, but fierce, hot-tempered, and hasty. And as he is very apt to lose his temper, those who have to do with him are very liable to lose their heads."

"But sometimes he is no doubt very much provoked," said Haroun.

"Nay," said Abdallah, "when he is in an ill-humour, he would order your head to be struck off as readily as he would order his dinner."

"I can scarcely believe that," answered Haroun. "Did you not say that he loves justice?"

"Undoubtedly," answered Abdallah, "he is anxious to have a just administration of the laws, and I have been told that in order to see for himself what goes on, he frequently walks through the city disguised as a merchant."

"And that," said Ahmed, "I consider to be by no means commendable."

"On what account?" demanded Haroun.

"Because," said Ahmed, "if on one of those excursions any accident should happen to the Commander of the Faithful, the State would lose more than ever it gained from all his rambles and inquiries."

Haroun could not but admit to himself the justice of this observation, and yet he was by no means pleased with it, as one never is with any reflection on our own conduct. Therefore, when Abdallah said, that for his part he thought the Caliph did quite right in determining to see things with his own eyes, and that a man ought not to weigh too scrupulously the dangers which might lie in the way of doing his duty, Haroun could have embraced him in the fulness of his satisfaction.

"But," said Haroun, to turn the conversation, "you have not yet told me what good or ill-fortune you have met with on this expedition, nor what ventures you are bringing back with you to Bagdad."

As Haroun said this, his eye rested upon the palanquin which was being carried by the slaves, and Abdallah, noticing his glance, and guessing that he was curious to learn something of the occupant, began as follows:

THE ARAB MERCHANT'S STORY.

"Before setting out on the expedition from which we are now returning, Ahmed and I consulted long as to the countries we should visit, and what sort of goods it would be most profitable to bring back with us. We at length agreed to journey through Egypt into the central parts of Africa, and bring from thence some of those large and rare specimens of precious stones of which we had often heard. And we did not doubt if we could secure some of these that we should be able to dispose of them to such advantage at the Court of the Caliph as at one stroke to make our fortune.

"Having agreed upon this plan we purchased and took with us such articles of merchandize as we judged would sell to the best advantage in Egypt. In fact, on arriving at Cairo, we remained some time doing a very profitable trade.

"At length, when the proper time of year came round for commencing our journey into the interior, we provided ourselves with the articles most likely to find favour with the natives, and after two months, during which we travelled very slowly, and suffered many hardships, we reached the country of a great nation or tribe of Ethiopians, at whose chief town, Daarkol, we halted awhile, and did some trade by barter, but not much, the people possessing few things of any value to us except small quantities of gold dust.

"What we sought of them most eagerly was information concerning that tribe of whom we had heard, in whose country were found the diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and other precious stones, to obtain which was the object of our journey.

"That tribe lived, it appeared, still several hundreds of miles further up the country, but what annoyed us much more was the information that they would exchange their precious stones for nothing else than ivory, of the exact value of which they were very well acquainted.

"This altogether extinguished the hope with which we had started of making our fortunes by importing to Bagdad splendid specimens of various precious stones. For when we considered the vast expense of procuring large quantities of tusks, the difficulty of getting slaves to carry them up the country, and of feeding those slaves on so long a journey, together with the danger of being robbed of such cumbersome and valuable property by some of the many wild tribes through whose territories we must pass, we were fain to conclude that we must needs abandon that part of our enterprise.

"As we were one day sitting in a very gloomy mood discussing this matter, an African merchant with whom we had become acquainted, and who happened to be passing, saluted us; and we, having invited him to be seated with us, 'What,' he asked, 'is that which you cannot do? for as I came up I heard you pronounce these words: "No, it is not possible to do it."'

"With that I explained to him, without mentioning particularly the country of the precious stones, that Ahmed and myself had intended to proceed still further into the interior to trade with the people, but many of them, as we were now informed, exchanged only against ivory. And it appeared to us impossible to do any profitable trade if we must convey such a heavy and valuable commodity as ivory over long distances.

"The African merchant, when he heard this, smiled, and asked, 'What would you give now to anyone who should get you out of this difficulty?'