Achmed Abdullah

“ What?—they demanded—Zobeid did not choose me, the descendant of the gods; nor me, whose riches were uncounted; nor me, whom a million warriors followed into battle? Listen, listen, Heaven-Born ... they surrounded the Caliph, who had left the peacock throne, with noisy clamorings.
But the ruler of Bagdad smiled. He stroked his long, white beard, and declared that the choice was final.
“My friends,” he implored, “do not behave like naughty children. I grant you—for I am a proud father—that there is no woman in all Asia to equal Zobeid in beauty and charm and the many accomplishments. ”

“ And still he smiled; still he thought of Zobeid, of her words; “I love you! I shall wait for you! I trust you utterly!” until the Caliph, watching, seeing the smile on his face, broke into thin, cruel laughter.
“Ah!” he said. “We shall yet change your impudent smile into a grimace of pain. Let us consider what tortures we may invent for you.” And when the Mongol Prince whispered into his ear, he laughed again. “You are right, Cham Sheng!” he continued. “A splendid, novel, gorgeous idea! Worthy of a Mongol indeed!” He turned to the slaves. “Throw this thief to the gorilla! ”

“ He addressed the Caliph.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “desecration most foul has been brought upon your ancient dynasty. The escutcheon of the Bagdad Caliphs has been sullied. This Ahmed—he who calls himself Prince of the Isles, he to whom your daughter has promised her heart and hand—is nothing hut an imposter, a common thief, whose kingdom is bazar and market-place and whose wealth what is contained in other men’s pockets!” And when the Caliph stammered that he did not believe it, that it was impossible, the Mongol went on: “There is no doubt of it. ”

“ Then, in simple words, he told her the truth:
“I am not a Prince. I am a nobody, an outcast. I am a thief.”
“A thief ...” Fount-in-the-Forest who, unnoticed, had followed her mistress and was hiding in a thick clump of trees close by, echoed to herself. All at once she remembered where and when she had seen Ahmed. Why—he was the robber who last night had entered Zobeid’s room, who had threatened her with the dagger, and had escaped through the window.
Swiftly she ran back to the palace. She sought out Wong K’ai, the Mongol Prince’s confidential adviser, and told him what she had discovered. ”

“ The hall of audiences was an immense quadrangle. Up to a height of twenty feet the walls were covered with ivory and snowy enamel skilfully blended with shiny-white lac and overlaid with a silver-threaded spider’s web of arabesques as exquisite as the finest lace. ”

“ There he sat the night through, until the wind drove the dusk toward the East and the sky flushed with the jade-green of young morning; until, with the sun rising higher and higher, there echoed from the palace a great blaring of trumpets and beating of drums and, not long afterwards Bird-of-Evil, who had escaped with the help of one of the soldiers, joined his friend and told him what had happened. ”

“ And then, when Ahmed had told him the full tale of his sins, of his love, and of his despair, the priest took him to the Eastern gate of Bagdad and gave to him a sword.
“Go out on pilgrimage!” he said. “Your way to happiness will be long and weary. Patience you will need, and courage. ”