Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace Part 18

Thus spake the merchant; and Said, strong as was his desire to see his father once more, rejoiced at the prospect of seeing Bagdad and its famous ruler, Haroun-al-Raschid.

After a ten-days' journey, they arrived at their destination; and Said was astonished at the magnificence of this city, then at the height of its splendor. The merchant invited him to go with him to his house, and Said gladly accepted the invitation; as it now occurred to him for the first time, among the crowd of people, that with the exception of the air, the water of the Tigris, and a lodging on the steps of the mosque, nothing could be had without money.

The day after his arrival in Bagdad, as soon as he had dressed himself--thinking that he need not be ashamed to show himself on the streets of Bagdad in his splendid soldierly costume--the merchant entered his room, looked at the handsome youth with a knavish smile, stroked his beard and said: "That's all very fine, young man! but what shall be done with you? You are, it appears to me, a great dreamer, taking no thought for the morrow; or have you money enough with you to support such style as that?"

"Dear Kalum-Bek," replied the young man, greatly disconcerted, "I certainly have no money, but perhaps you will furnish me with the means to reach home; my father would surely repay you."

"Your father, fellow?" cried the merchant, with a loud laugh. "I think the sun must have scorched your brain. Do you think I would take your simple word for that yarn you spun me in the desert--that your father was a rich citizen of Balsora, you his only son?--and about the attack of the robbers, and your life with the tribe, and this, that, and the other? Even then I felt very angry at your frivolous lies and utter impudence. I know that all the rich people in Balsora are traders; I have had dealings with all of them, and should have heard of a Benezar, even if he had not been worth more than six thousand Tomans. It is, therefore, either a lie that you hail from Balsora, or else your father is a poor wretch, to whose runaway son I would not lend a copper. Then, too, the attack in the desert! Who ever heard, since the wise Caliph Haroun has made the trade routes across the desert safe, that robbers dared to plunder a caravan and lead the men off into captivity? And then, too, it would have been known; but on my entire journey, as well as here in Bagdad, where people gather from all parts of the world, there has not been a word said about it. That is the second lie, you shameless young fellow!"

Pale with anger, Said tried to interrupt the wicked little man, but the merchant talked still louder, and gesticulated wildly with his arms.

"And the third lie, you audacious liar, is the story of your life in Selim's camp. Selim's name is well known by every body who has ever seen an Arab, but Selim has the reputation of being the most cruel and relentless robber on the desert, and you pretend to say that you killed his son and was not at once hacked to pieces; yes, you even pushed your impudence so far as to state the impossible,--that Selim had protected you against his own tribe, had taken you into his own tent, and let you go without a ransom, instead of hanging you up to the first good tree; he who has often hanged travellers just to see what kind of faces they would make when they were hung up. O you detestable liar!"

"And I can only repeat," cried the youth, "that by my soul and the beard of the Prophet, it was all true!"

"What! you swear by your soul?" shouted the merchant, "by your black, lying soul? Who would believe that? And by the beard of the Prophet,--you that have no beard? Who would put any trust in that?"

"I certainly have no witnesses," continued Said; "but did you not find me bound and perishing?"

"That proves nothing to me," replied the merchant. "You were yourself dressed like a robber, and it might easily have happened that you attacked some one stronger than yourself, who conquered and bound you."

"I should like to see any one, or even two," returned Said, "who could floor and bind me, unless they came up behind me and flung a noose over my head. Staying in your bazar as you do, you cannot have any notion of what a single man is able to do when he has been brought up to arms.

But you saved my life, and my thanks are due you. What would you have me do? If you do not support me I must beg; and I should not care to ask a favor of any one of my station. I will go to see the caliph."

"Indeed!" sneered the merchant, "you will ask a.s.sistance of no one but our most gracious master? I should call that genteel begging! But look you, my fine young gentleman! access to the caliph can be had only through my cousin Messour, and a word from me would acquaint him with your capacity for lying. But I will take pity on your youth, Said. You shall have a chance to better yourself, and something may be made out of you yet. I will take you into my shop at the bazar; you can serve me there for a year; and when that time is past, if you don't choose to remain with me any longer, I will pay you your wages and let you go where you will, to Aleppo or Medina, to Stamboul or Balsora, or, for aught I care, to the Infidels. I will give you till noon to decide; if you agree to my proposal, well and good; if you do not, I will make out an estimate of the expense you put me to on the journey, and for your seat on the camel, pay myself by taking your clothes and all you possess, and then throw you into the street; then you can beg where you like, of the caliph or the mufti, at the mosque or in the bazar."

With these words the wicked man left the unfortunate youth. Said looked after him with loathing. He rebelled against the wickedness of this man, who had designedly taken him to his house so that he might have him in his power. He looked about to see if he could escape, but found the windows grated and the door locked. Finally, after his spirit had long revolted at the idea, he decided to accept the merchant's proposal for the present. He saw clearly that nothing better remained for him to do; for even if he were to run away, he could not reach Balsora without money. But he made up his mind to seek the caliph's protection as soon as possible.

On the following day, Kalum-Bek led his new servant to his shop in the bazar. He showed Said the shawls, veils, and other wares in which he dealt, and instructed the youth in his strange duties. These required that Said, stripped of his soldierly costume and clad like a merchant's servant, should stand in the doorway of the shop, with a shawl in one hand and a splendid veil in the other, and cry out his wares to the pa.s.sers-by, name the price, and invite the people to buy. And now, too it became evident to Said why Kalum-Bek had selected him for this business. The merchant was a short, ugly-looking man, and when he himself stood at the door and cried his wares, many of the neighbors, as well as the pa.s.sersby, would make fun of his appearance, or the boys would tease him, while the women called him a scarecrow; but everybody was pleased with the appearance of young Said, who attracted customers by his graceful deportment and by his clever and tasteful way of exhibiting his shawls and veils.

When Kalum-Bek saw that customers thronged to his shop since Said had taken his stand at the door, he became more friendly with the young man, gave him better things to eat than before, and was careful to keep him finely dressed. But Said was little touched by this display of mildness in his master; and the whole day long, and even in his dreams, tried to hit upon some means of returning to his native city.

One day when the sales had been very large, and all the errand boys who delivered parcels at the houses were out on their rounds, a woman entered and made several purchases. She then wanted some one to carry her packages home. "I can send them all up to you in half an hour,"

said Kalum-Bek; "you will either have to wait that long or else take some outside porter."

"Do you pretend to be a merchant and advise your customers to employ strange porters?" exclaimed the woman. "Might not such a fellow run off with my parcels in the crowd? And then whom should I look to? No, you are bound by the practice of the bazar to send my bundles home for me, and I insist on your doing it!"

"But wait for just half an hour, worthy lady!" exclaimed the merchant excitedly. "All my errand boys have been sent out."

"It's a poor shop that don't have errand boys constantly at hand," interrupted the angry woman. "But there stands one of your good-for-nothings now! Come, young fellow, take my parcel and follow after me."

"Stop! Stop!" cried Kalum-Bek. "He is my signboard, my crier, my magnet! He cannot stir from the threshold!"

"What's that!" exclaimed the old lady, thrusting her bundle under Said's arm without further parley. "It is a poor merchant that depends on such a useless clown for a sign, and those are miserable wares that cannot speak for themselves. Go, go, fellow; you shall earn a fee to-day."

"Go then, in the name of Ariman and all evil spirits!" muttered Kalum-Bek to his magnet, "and see that you come right back; the old hag might give me a bad name all over the bazar if I refuse to comply with her demands."

Said followed the woman, who hastened through the square and down the streets at a much quicker pace than one would have believed a woman of her age capable of. At last she stopped before a splendid house, and knocked; the folding doors flew open, and she ascended a marble stair-case, beckoning Said to follow. They came shortly to a high and wide salon, more magnificent than any Said had ever seen before. The old woman sank down exhausted on a cushion, motioned the young man to lay down his bundle, handed him a small silver coin, and bade him go.

He had just reached the door, when a clear, musical voice called: "Said!" Surprised that any one there should know him, he looked around and saw, in place of the old woman, an elegant lady sitting on the cushion, surrounded by numerous slaves and maids. Said, mute with astonishment, crossed his arms and made a low obeisance.

"Said, my dear boy," said the lady, "much as I deplore the misfortune that is the cause of your presence in Bagdad, yet this was the only place decided on by destiny where you might be released from the fate that would surely follow you if you left the homestead before your twentieth year. Said, have you still your whistle?"

"Indeed I have," cried he joyfully, drawing out the golden chain, "and you perhaps are the kind fairy who gave me this token at my birth?"

"I was the friend of your mother, and will be your friend also as long as you remain good. Alas! would that your father--unthinking man--had followed my counsel! You would then have been spared many sorrows."

"Well, it had to come to pa.s.s!" replied Said. "But, most gracious fairy, harness a strong northeast wind to your carriage of clouds, and take me up with you, and drive me in a few minutes to my father in Balsora; I will wait there patiently until the six months are pa.s.sed that close my nineteenth year."

The fairy smiled. "You have a very proper mode of addressing us,"

answered she; "but, poor Said! it is not possible. I cannot do anything wonderful for you at present, because you left your homestead. Nor can I even free you from the power of the wretch, Kalum-Bek. He is under the protection of your worst enemy."

"Then I have not only a kind female friend but a female enemy as well?"

said Said. "I believe I have often experienced her influence. But at least you might a.s.sist me with your counsel. Had I not better go to the caliph and seek his protection? He is a wise man, and would protect me from Kalum-Bek."

"Yes, Haroun is a wise man," replied the fairy; "but, sad to say, he is also only a mortal. He trusts his head chamberlain, Messour, as much as he does himself; and he is right in that, for he has tried Messour and found him true. But Messour trusts his friend Kalum-Bek as he does himself; and in that he is wrong, for Kalum is a bad man, even if he is a relative of Messour's. Kalum has a cunning head, and as soon as he had returned from his trip he made up a very pretty fable about you, which he confided to his cousin the chamberlain, who in turn told it to the caliph, so that you would not be very well received were you to go to the palace. But there are other ways and means of approaching him, and it is written on the stars that you shall experience his mercy."

"That is really too bad," said Said, mournfully. "I must then serve for a long time yet as the servant of that scoundrel Kalum-Bek. But there is one favor, honored fairy, that is in your power to grant me. I have been educated to the use of arms, and my greatest delight is a tournament where there are some sharp contests with the lance, bow and blunt swords. Well, every week just such a tournament takes place in this city between the young men. But only people of the finest costume, and besides that only _free_ men will be allowed to enter the lists, and clerks in the bazar are particularly excluded. Now if you could arrange that I could have a horse, clothes and weapons every week, and that my face would not be easily recognizable----"

"That is a wish befitting a n.o.ble young man," interrupted the fairy.

"Your mother's father was the bravest man in Syria, and you seem to have inherited his spirit. Take notice of this house; you shall find here every week a horse, and two mounted attendants, weapons and clothes, and a lotion for your face that will completely disguise you.

And now, Said, farewell! Be patient, wise and virtuous. In six months your whistle will sound, and Zulima's ear will be listening for its tone."

The youth separated from his strange protectress with expressions of grat.i.tude and esteem. He fixed the house and street clearly in his mind, and then went back to the bazar, which he reached just in the nick of time to save his master from a terrible beating. A great crowd was gathered before the shop, boys danced about the merchant and jeered at him, while their elders laughed. He stood just before the shop, trembling with suppressed rage, and sadly hara.s.sed--in one hand a shawl, in the other a veil. This singular scene was caused by a circ.u.mstance that had occurred during Said's absence. Kalum had taken the place of his handsome clerk at the door, but no one cared to buy of the ugly old man. Just then two men came to the bazar wishing to buy presents for their wives. They had gone up and down the bazar several times, looking in here and there, and Kalum-Bek, who had observed their actions for some time, thought he saw his chance, so he called out: "Here, gentlemen, here! What are you looking for? Beautiful veils, beautiful wares?"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Good sir," replied one of them, "your wares may do very well, but our wives are peculiar, and it has become the fashion in this city to buy veils only of the handsome clerk, Said. We have been looking for him this half-hour, but cannot find him; now if you can tell us where we will meet him, we will buy from you some other time."

"Allah il Allah!" cried Kalum-Bek with a smirk. "The Prophet has led you to the right door. You wish to buy veils of the handsome Said?

Good, just step inside; this is his place."

One of the men laughed at Kalum's short and ugly figure, and his a.s.sertion that he was the handsome clerk; but the other, believing that Kalum was trying to make sport of him, did not remain long in his debt, but paid the merchant back in his own coin. Kalum-Bek was beside himself; he called his neighbors to witness that his was the only shop in the bazar that went by the name of "the shop of the handsome clerk;"

but the neighbors, who envied him the run of custom he had enjoyed for some time, pretended not to know anything about the matter, and the two men then made an attack upon the old liar, as they called him. Kalum defended himself more with shrieks and curses than by the use of his fists, and thus attracted a large crowd before his shop. Half the city knew him to be a mean, avaricious old miser, nor did the bystanders grudge him the cuffs he received; and one of his a.s.sailants had just plucked the old man by the beard, when his arm was seized, and with a sudden jerk he was thrown to the ground with such violence that his turban fell off and his slippers flew to some distance.

The crowd, which very likely would have been rejoiced to see Kalum-Bek well punished, grumbled loudly. The fallen man's companion looked around to see who it was that had ventured to throw his friend down; but when he saw a tall, strong youth, with flashing eyes and courageous mien, standing before him, he did not think it best to attack him, especially as Kalum regarding his rescue as a miracle, pointed to the young man and cried: "Now then! what would you have more? There he stands beyond a doubt, gentlemen; that is Said, the handsome clerk."

The people standing about laughed, while the prostrate man got up shamefacedly, and limped off with his companion without buying either shawl or veil.

"O you star of all clerks, you crown of the bazar!" cried Kalum, leading his clerk into the shop; "really, that is what I call being on hand at the right time, and the right kind of interference too. Why, the fellow was laid out as flat on the ground as if he had never stood on his legs, and I--I should have had no use for a barber again to comb and oil my beard, if you had arrived two minutes later! How can I reward you?"

It had been only a momentary sensation of pity which had governed Said's hand and heart; but now that that feeling had pa.s.sed, he regretted that he had saved this wicked man from a good chastis.e.m.e.nt. A dozen hairs from his beard, thought Said, would have kept him humble for twelve days. And now the young man thought best to make use of the favorable disposition of the merchant, and therefore asked to be given one evening in each week for a walk or for any other purpose he pleased. Kalum consented, knowing full well that his clerk was too sensible to run off without money or clothes.

On the following Wednesday, the day on which the young men of the best families a.s.sembled in the public square in the city to go through their martial exercises. Said asked Kalum if he would let him have this evening for his own use; and on receiving the merchant's permission, he went to the fairy's house, knocked, and the door was immediately opened. The servants seemed to have prepared everything before his arrival; for without questioning him as to his desire, they led him upstairs to a beautiful room, and there handed him the lotion that was to disguise his features. He moistened his face with it, and then glanced into a metallic mirror; he hardly recognized himself, for he was now sunburnt, wore a handsome black beard, and looked to be at least ten years older than he really was.

He was now conducted into a second room, where he found a complete and splendid costume, of which the Caliph of Bagdad need not have been ashamed, on the day when he reviewed his army in all his magnificence.

Together with a turban of the finest texture, with a clasp of diamonds and a long heron's plume, Said found a coat of mail made of silver rings, so finely worked that it conformed to every movement of his body, and yet was so firm that neither lance nor sword could find a way through it. A Damascus blade in a richly ornamented sheath, and with a handle whose stones seemed to Said to be of priceless value, completed his warlike appearance. As he came to the door, armed at all points, one of the servants handed him a silk cloth and told him that the mistress of the house sent it to him, and that when he wiped his face with it, the beard and the complexion would disappear.

In the court-yard stood three beautiful horses; Said mounted the finest, and his attendants the other two, and rode off with a light heart to the square where the contest was to be held. The splendor of his costume and the brightness of his weapons drew all eyes upon him, and a general buzz of astonishment followed his entrance into the ring.

It was a brilliant a.s.semblage of the bravest and n.o.blest youths of Bagdad, where even the brothers of the caliph were seen flying about on their horses and swinging their lances. On Said's approach, as no one seemed to know him, the son of the grand vizier, with some of his friends, rode up to him, greeted him politely, and invited him to take part in their contests, at the same time inquiring his name and whence he came. Said represented to them that his name was Almansor, and he hailed from Cairo; that he had set out upon a journey, but having heard so much said about the skill and bravery of the young n.o.blemen of Bagdad, he could not refrain from delaying his journey in order to get acquainted with them. The young men were highly pleased with the bearing and courageous appearance of Said-Almansor; handed him a lance, and had him select his opponent,--as the whole company were divided into two parties, in order that they might a.s.sault one another both singly and in groups.