"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 noble 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."