‘What are you doing?’ cried Neangir. ‘How dare you attack those whom the
Bassa has taken under his protection?’
‘Ah, my son,’ replied the soldier, ‘the Bassa would withdraw his
protection if he knew that these wretches have robbed me of all I have
dearest in the world. He knows them as little as he knows you.’
‘But he knows me very well,’ replied Neangir, ‘for he has recognised me
as his son. Come with me now into his presence.’
The stranger bowed and passed through the curtain held back by Neangir,
whose surprise was great at seeing his father spring forward and clasp
the soldier in his arms.
‘What! is it you, my dear Siroco?’ cried he. ‘I believed you had been
slain in that awful battle when the followers of the Prophet were put to
flight. But why do your eyes kindle with the flames they shot forth on
that fearful day? Calm yourself and tell me what I can do to help you.
See, I have found my son, let that be a good omen for your happiness
also.’
‘I did not guess,’ answered Siroco, ‘that the son you have so long
mourned had come back to you. Some days since the Prophet appeared to
me in a dream, floating in a circle of light, and he said to me, “Go
to-morrow at sunset to the Galata Gate, and there you will find a young
man whom you must bring home with you. He is the second son of your old
friend the Bassa of the Sea, and that you may make no mistake, put your
fingers in his turban and you will feel the plaque on which my name is
engraved in seven different languages.”’
‘I did as I was bid,’ went on Siroco, ‘and so charmed was I with his
face and manner that I caused him to fall in love with Argentine, whose
portrait I gave him. But at the moment when I was rejoicing in the
happiness before me, and looking forward to the pleasure of restoring
you your son, some drops of the elixir of love were spilt on the table,
and caused a thick vapour to arise, which hid everything. When it had
cleared away he was gone. This morning my old slave informed me that she
had discovered the traitors who had stolen my daughters from me, and I
hastened hither to avenge them. But I place myself in your hands, and
will follow your counsel.’
‘Fate will favour us, I am sure,’ said the Bassa, ‘for this very night I
expect to secure both the silver and the gold watch. So send at once and
pray Zelida to join us.’
A rustling of silken stuffs drew their eyes to the door, and Ibrahim and
Hassan, whose daily penance had by this time been performed, entered
to embrace their brother. Neangir and Hassan, who had also drunk of the
elixir of love, could think of nothing but the beautiful ladies who had
captured their hearts, while the spirits of Ibrahim had been cheered by
the news that the daughter of Moizes hoped to find in the Book of Spells
some charm to deliver him from collecting the magic beads.
It was some hours later that Sumi returned, bringing with her the sacred
book.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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