Then what exclamations, what cries of astonishment and delight! "Is it
possible? Is it a dream? What a marvel! It is magic! Dare we cross
it?" All the Mirza's train fell on their knees, got up again, went to
the bridge, kissed the ground, looked up to heaven, lifted their
hands; then tremulously set foot on it, went over, and came back in
perfect ecstasy, and Rustem said, "Heaven is on my side this time.
Topaz did not know what he was saying. The oracles were in my favour.
Ebony was right; but why is he not here?"
Hardly had the caravan crossed in safety, when the bridge fell into
the torrent with an appalling crash.
"So much the better!" cried Rustem. "God be praised! He does not
intend me to return to my own country, where I should be only a
private gentleman. He means me to marry the Princess. I shall be
Prince of Cashmere. In that way, when I possess my Princess, I shall
not possess my humble rank in Candahar; I shall be Rustem, and I shall
not, since I shall be a great prince. There is a great deal of the
oracle interpreted in my favour. The rest will be explained in the
same way. I am too happy! But why is not Ebony at my side? I regret
him a thousand times more than Topaz!"
He rode a few miles farther in great glee; but as evening fell, a
chain of mountains, steeper than a rampart, and higher than the Tower
of Babel would have been when finished, entirely closed the road
against the travellers, who were filled with fears.
Every one exclaimed: "It is the will of God that we should perish
here. He has broken down the bridge that we may have no hope of
returning; He has raised up this mountain to hinder our going forward.
Oh, Rustem! Oh, hapless Mirza! We shall never see Cashmere, we shall
never return to the land of Candahar!"
In Rustem's soul the keenest anguish and most complete dejection
succeeded the immoderate joy and hopes which had intoxicated him. He
was now very far from interpreting the oracles to his advantage: "O
merciful heaven!" he cried. "Have I really lost my friend Topaz?"
As he spoke the words, heaving deep sighs and shedding bitter tears in
the sight of his despairing followers, behold, the base of the
mountain opened, and a long, vaulted gallery lighted by a hundred
thousand torches was revealed to his dazzled eyes!
Rustem broke into exclamations of joy; his people fell on their knees
or dropped down with amazement, crying out that it was a miracle, and
that Rustem was destined to govern the world. Rustem himself believed
it, and was uplifted beyond measure. "Ah! Ebony, my dear Ebony, where
are you?" he cried. "Why are you not here to see all these wonders?
How did I come to lose you? Fair Princess of Cashmere, when shall I
again behold your charms?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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