Tales of the Caliph | Page 9

invisible Caliph, and loudly cursing all
villains and robbers, and especially that one who had just taken his

money, he caught sight of the thief himself, scrambling up, dripping
wet, on to the opposite bank of the stream, and, with much vociferation,
he continued in hot pursuit. The noise he made brought out, of course,
all those who had been passing the night at the inn, and very naturally
they all commenced at once to follow the pursuer and pursued.
The Caliph then quietly entered the deserted house, and placing the
packet of money carefully in the innkeeper's turban, where he would be
sure to find it on his return from the chase, he left, and taking another
road, and one leading, as far as he could judge, in the direction of his
own dominions, he continued his journey.
He walked along for some hours without meeting any one except a few
peasants, or encountering any noteworthy incident whatsoever.
At length he became tired with his long march, and the heat of the
noontide sun became so oppressive, that, espying a thick clump of trees
at a short distance from the road, he gladly made his way to that
pleasant shelter, lay down on a grassy bank, with a log for his pillow,
and composed himself to rest and sleep.
On waking, after two or three hours of very sound and refreshing sleep,
he found that owing to some change in his position his turban had
fallen off. This, in itself not very serious or remarkable accident, gave
him on the present occasion much apprehension and concern. For in his
turban he had placed, as has been mentioned, the invisible object,
whatever it might be, which had in some inexplicable manner conferred
upon him also, while he was in contact with it, the condition of
invisibility.
He took up the turban most carefully, he felt in it, he put it on, but
nowhere could he encounter the soft, cool sensation with which he had
become familiar. He groped laboriously all round the spot where he had
been lying, but in vain. Whether the object had rolled away, or whether
it had been carried to a distance by the breeze, or possibly had even
been dissipated altogether, he could not determine. One thing only was
clear and beyond conjecture--the charm was lost for ever.

Coming at last most unwillingly to that conclusion, he sat down
cross-legged upon the grass as on a divan, resting his elbow upon the
log which had served him for a pillow, and began to consider how he
should manage to make his way back to his own dominions through
that land of idolaters. He had no idea of the distance to be traversed, but
he reflected that, having no longer the aid and protection of being
invisible, and being possessed of no money, his difficulties must
necessarily be great. Moreover, he was not without considerable
anxiety as to what might have occurred at Bagdad while he had been
absent. Giafer, indeed, to whom all the details of the government of the
country had practically been confided for many years, he could
thoroughly trust. But Ibrahim, who would probably have succeeded to
the Caliphate, was known to hate the Grand Vizier, and would not only
put him to death, but might also, not improbably, have taken measures
to rid himself of Zobeideh and her son. Oppressed by these gloomy
thoughts the Caliph sat for a long time without moving.
At length, hearing the tramp of horses in the distance, he looked up,
and was overjoyed to behold two men coming along the road, whom he
at once knew by their dress to be Arab merchants. Each was on
horseback, and they had with them, besides several other horses, some
mules and asses laden with packages. And there was also a kind of
closed carriage or palanquin, borne by some slaves, in which no doubt
was conveyed a lady or female slave of great value.
Now, when the Caliph saw these men approaching, he rose up quickly
and went to meet them. When he drew near, he saluted them and
inquired whither they went.
To which they replied: "To Bagdad." And they inquired of him how it
came to pass that he should be on foot and alone in that pagan kingdom,
seeing it was evident by his dress that he was a Moslim.
Now, the Caliph had already learnt by experience that to proclaim his
true rank would be only to court a suspicion of madness, therefore he
replied briefly, that he too was from Bagdad and was returning thither,
but that unhappily he had been taken prisoner by the idolaters, and
robbed of all that he had, except only the clothes upon his back. He

begged them, therefore, to