Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace Part 20

The following day, as Said was sitting with the caliph and grand vizier, Messour, the chamberlain, came in and said: "Ruler of the Faithful, if there is no objection, I would like to ask a favor of you."

"I will hear it first," answered Haroun.

"My dear first-cousin, Kalum-Bek, a prominent merchant of the bazar, stands without," said Messour. "He has had a singular transaction with a man from Balsora, whose son once worked for Kalum-Bek, but who afterward stole from him and then ran away, no one knows whither. Now the father of this youth comes and demands his son of Kalum, who hasn't him. Kalum therefore begs that you will do him the favor of deciding between him and this man, by the exercise of your profound wisdom."

"I will judge in the matter," replied the caliph. "In half an hour your cousin and his opponent may enter the hall of justice."

When Messour had expressed his grat.i.tude and gone out, Haroun said: "That must be your father. Said; and now that I am so fortunate as to know your story, I shall judge with the wisdom of Salomo. Conceal yourself, Said, behind the curtain of my throne; and you, grand vizier, send at once for that wicked police justice. I shall want his testimony in this case."

Both did as the caliph ordered. Said's heart beat fast as he saw his father, pale and stricken with grief, enter the hall of justice with tottering steps; while Kalum-Bek's smile of a.s.surance, as he whispered to his cousin, made Said so furious that he had difficulty in refraining from rushing at him from his place of concealment, as his greatest sufferings and sorrows had been caused by this cruel man.

There were many people in the hall, all of whom were anxious to hear the caliph speak. As soon as the Ruler of Bagdad had ascended the throne, the grand vizier commanded silence, and asked who appeared as complainant before his master.

Kalum-Bek approached with an impudent air, and said: "A few days ago I was standing before the door of my shop in the bazar, when a crier, with a purse in his hand, and with this man walking near him, went among the booths, shouting: 'A purse of gold to him who can give any information about Said of Balsora.' This Said had been in my service, and therefore I cried: 'This way, friend! I can win that purse.' This man, who is now so hostile to me, came up in a friendly way and asked me what information I possessed. I answered: 'You must be Benezar, Said's father.' and when he affirmed that he was, I told him how I had found the young fellow in the desert, rescued him and restored him to health, and brought him back with me to Bagdad. In the joy of his heart he gave me the purse. But when now this unreasonable man heard, as I went on to tell him, how his son had worked for me, had been guilty of very wicked acts, had stolen from me and then run away, he would not believe it, and quarrelled with me for several days, demanding his son and his money back; and I can not return them both, for the gold is mine as compensation for the news I furnished him, and I can not produce his ungrateful son."

It was now Benezar's turn to speak. He described his son, how n.o.ble and good he was, and the impossibility of his ever having become so degraded as to steal. He requested the caliph to make the most thorough examination of the case.

"I hope," said Haroun, "that you reported the theft, Kalum-Bek, as was your duty?"

"Why, certainly!" exclaimed that worthy, smiling. "I took him before the police justice."

"Let the police justice be brought!" ordered the caliph.

To every body's astonishment, this official appeared as suddenly as if brought by magic. The caliph asked whether he remembered that Kalum-Bek had come before him with a young man, and the official replied that he did.

"Did you listen to the young man; did he confess to the theft?" asked Haroun.

"No, he was actually so obstinate that he would not confess to any one but yourself," replied the justice.

"But I don't remember to have seen him," said the caliph.

"But why should you? If I were to listen to them, I should have a whole pack of such vagabonds to send you every day."

"You know that my ear is open for every one," replied Haroun; "but perhaps the proofs of the theft were so clear that it was not necessary to bring the young man into my presence. You had witnesses, I suppose, Kalum, that the money found on this young man belonged to you?"

"Witnesses?" repeated Kalum, turning pale; "no, I did not have any witnesses, for you know, Ruler of the Faithful, that one gold piece looks just like another. Where, then, should I get witnesses to testify that these one hundred gold pieces are the same that were missing from my cash-box."

"How, then, can you tell that that particular money belonged to you?"

asked the caliph.

"By the purse," replied Kalum.

"Have you the purse here?" continued the caliph.

"Here it is," said the merchant, drawing out a purse which he handed to the vizier to give to the caliph.

But the vizier cried with feigned surprise: "By the beard of the Prophet! Do you claim the purse, you dog? Why it is my own purse, and I gave it filled with a hundred gold pieces, to a brave young man who rescued me from a great danger."

"Can you swear to that?" asked the caliph.

"As surely as that I shall some time be in paradise," answered the vizier, "for my daughter made the purse with her own hands."

"Why, look you then, police Justice!" cried Haroun, "you were falsely advised. Why did you believe that the purse belonged to this merchant?"

"He swore to it," replied the justice, humbly.

"Then you swore falsely?" thundered the caliph, as the merchant, pale and trembling, stood before him.

"Allah, Allah!" cried Kalum. "I certainly don't want to dispute the grand vizier's word; he is a truthful man, but alas! the purse does belong to me and that rascal of a Said stole it. I would give a thousand tomans if he was in this room now."

"What did you do with this Said?" asked the caliph. "Speak up! where shall we have to send for him, that he may come and make confession before me?"

"I banished him to a desert island," said the police justice.

"O Said! my son, my son!" cried the unhappy father.

"Indeed, then he acknowledged the crime, did he?" inquired Haroun.

The police justice turned pale. He rolled his eyes about restlessly, and finally said: "If I remember rightly--yes."

"You are not certain about it, then?" continued the caliph in a terrible voice; "then we will ask the young man himself. Step forth, Said, and you Kalum-Bek, to begin with, will count out one thousand gold pieces, as Said is now in the room."

Kalum and the police justice thought it was a ghost that stood before them. They prostrated themselves and cried: "Mercy! Mercy!" Benezar, half-fainting with joy, fell into the arms of his long-lost son. But, with great severity of manner, the caliph said: "Police Justice, here stands Said; did he confess?"

"No," whined the justice; "I listened only to Kalum's testimony, because he was a respectable man."

"Did I place you as a judge over all that you might listen only to the people of rank?" demanded Haroun-al-Raschid, with n.o.ble scorn. "I will banish you for ten years to a desert island in the middle of the sea; there you can reflect on justice. And you, miserable wretch, who bring the dying back to life, not in order to rescue them, but to make them your slaves--you will pay down, as I said before, the thousand tomans that you promised if Said were only present to be called as witness."

Kalum congratulated himself at having got out of a very bad sc.r.a.pe so easily, and was just going to thank the kind caliph, when Haroun continued: "For the perjury you committed about the hundred gold pieces, you will receive a hundred lashes on the soles of your feet.

Further than this Said will have the choice of taking your shop and its contents and you as a porter, or of contenting himself with ten gold pieces for every day's work he did for you."

"Let the wretch go, Caliph!" cried the youth; "I would not take anything that ever belonged to him."

"No," replied Haroun, "I prefer that you should be compensated. I will choose for you the ten gold pieces a day, and you can reckon up how many days you were in his claws. Away with this wretch!"

The two offenders were led away, and the caliph conducted Benezar and Said to another apartment, where he related to Benezar his rescue by Said, interrupted by the shrieks of Kalum-Bek, upon the soles of whose feet a hundred gold pieces of full weight were being counted out.

The caliph invited Benezar to come to Bagdad and live with him and Said. Benezar consented, and made only one more journey home in order to fetch his large possessions. Said lived in the palace which the grateful caliph built for him, like a prince. The caliph's brother and grand vizier's son were his constant companions; and it soon became a proverb in Bagdad: "I would that I were as good and as fortunate as Said, the son of Benezar."

"I could keep awake for two or three nights without experiencing the least sensation of sleepiness, with such entertainment," said the compa.s.s-maker, when the huntsman had concluded. "And I have often proved the truth of what I say. I was once apprentice to a bell-founder. The master was a rich man and no miser, and therefore our wonder was all the more aroused on a certain occasion, when we had a big job on hand, by a display of parsimony on his part. A bell was being cast for a new church, and we apprentices had to sit up all night and keep the fire up. We did not doubt that the master would tap a cask of the best wine for us. But we were mistaken. He began to talk about his travels, and to tell all manner of stories of his life; then the head apprentice's turn came, and so on through the whole row of us, and none of us got sleepy, so intent were we all in listening. Before we knew it, day was at hand. Then we perceived the master's stratagem of keeping us awake by telling stories; for when the bell was done he did not spare his wine, but brought out what he had wisely saved on those nights."

"He was a sensible man," said the student. "There is no remedy for sleepiness like conversation. And I should not have cared to sit alone to-night, for about eleven o'clock I should have succ.u.mbed to sleep."

"The peasantry have found that out also," said the huntsman. "In the long Winter evenings the women and girls do not remain alone at home to spin, lest they should fall asleep in the middle of their task; but a large number of them meet together, in a well-lighted room, and tell stories over their work."

"Yes," added the wagoner, "and their stories are often of a kind to make one shudder, for they talk about ghosts that walk the earth, goblins that create a hubbub in their rooms at night, and spirits that torment men and cattle."