Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace. Вильгельм ГауфЧитать онлайн книгу.
My brother thanked him for his generosity, and took the dagger, but refused the purse. Orbasan pressed his hand once more, letting the purse fall to the ground, and sprang with the speed of the wind into the forest. When Mustapha saw that Orbasan did not intend to return for the purse, he dismounted and picked it up, starting at the generosity of his host, as he found it contained a large sum of gold. He thanked Allah for his rescue, recommended the generous robber to His mercy, and continued on his way to Balsora with a lighter heart.
Lezah, the story-teller, paused, and looked inquiringly at the merchant who had spoken so bitterly of Orbasan. The latter said--
"Well, if all that be so, I will cheerfully reverse my judgment of Orbasan, for he really treated your brother handsomely."
"He behaved like a true Musselman," exclaimed Muley. "But I hope your story was not ended there, for we are all curious to hear more; how things went with your brother, and whether he rescued your sister Fatima and the beautiful Zoraide."
"If I do not weary you, I will willingly continue," replied Lezah; "for this story of my brother is certainly adventurous and wonderful."
With this, he continued his story.
At noon on the seventh day of his departure from home, Mustapha entered the gate of Balsora. As soon as he had reached a caravansary, he made inquiries as to when the slave auction, held there every year, opened. He received in reply the dreadful news that he had arrived two days too late. They deplored his delay, and told him that he had missed a fine sight, for on the last day of the auction two female slaves had been put up, of such extraordinary beauty as to attract the attention of all bidders. There was sharp competition for their possession, and the bidding ran up so high as to frighten off everybody but their present owner. Mustapha made more particular inquiries, until he had satisfied himself beyond a doubt that these slaves were the unfortunate objects of his search. He learned further that the name of the man who had bought them was Thiuli-Kos; that he lived a good forty-hours' journey from Balsora, and was a rich and elderly man of rank, who had formerly been senior Pasha of the Shah, but had now retired from official life to live upon his means.
At first thought, Mustapha was about to mount his horse and hasten after Thiuli-Kos, who had only a day the start of him; but, after reflecting that, alone and unattended, he could hardly approach so powerful and rich a man, and still less hope to rob him of his possessions, he tried to devise some other plan, and soon hit upon one that appeared feasible. The singular mistake of confounding him with the Pasha of Sulieika, which had been so nearly fatal to him, suggested the idea of visiting the house of Thiuli-Kos, under this name, and then attempting the rescue of the unfortunate maidens. Accordingly he hired horses and servants--for which purpose Orbasan's money proved very useful--provided fine clothes for himself and servants, and set out for Thiuli's castle.
In five days he reached the vicinity of the castle, which was situated in a beautiful plain, enclosed within high walls, above which but little could be seen of the buildings. Arriving there, Mustapha dyed his hair and beard black, and painted his face with the juice of a plant, that gave him quite as brown a complexion as the real Pasha had possessed. Thereupon he sent one of his servants to the castle to request a night's lodging, in the name of the Pasha of Sulieika. The servant soon returned, and with him came four finely costumed slaves, who took hold of the bridle of Mustapha's horse, and led him into the court of the castle. There they assisted him to dismount, when four others conducted him up the broad marble steps to the presence of Thiuli. The latter proved to be a jovial old fellow, and he received my brother with due honor, and set before him the best that his cook could prepare.
After the table was cleared, Mustapha turned the conversation to the new slaves, and Thiuli boasted of their beauty, while complaining of their sadness; this, however, he believed would soon disappear. My brother was well pleased with his reception, and betook himself to rest, feeling very hopeful. He had slept perhaps an hour, when he was awakened by the gleam of a lamp that dazzled his eyes. As he raised himself in bed, he believed that he must still be dreaming, for before him stood that little dark-skinned man whom he had seen in Orbasan's tent. He held a lamp in his hand, and his broad mouth was distorted by a horrible grimace. Mustapha pinched his own arm and pulled his nose, in order to convince himself that he was awake; but the apparition remained as before.
"What will you at my bed-side?" cried Mustapha, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment.
"Don't trouble yourself, Master," replied Hassan, "I have found out your purpose in coming here; nor was your worthy face forgotten by me. But really, if I had not helped to hang the Pasha with my own hands, I might perhaps have been deceived. Now I have come to put a question."
"First of all, tell me how you came here," returned Mustapha, furious at being betrayed.
"I will tell you," replied Hassan, "I could not get along with Orbasan any longer; therefore I ran away. But you, Mustapha, was the cause of our quarrel, and therefore you must give me your sister to wed, and I will assist you in your flight. If you do not agree to this, I will go to my new master and tell him something about the new Pasha."
Mustapha was beside himself with rage and terror. Now, just as he believed himself about to attain his object, why must this wretch come and thwart his designs? There was only one way left in which he could carry out his plan: he must kill the ugly monster. With one spring he leaped from the bed and tried to seize the ugly wretch; but he, doubtless having expected such an attack, let the lamp fall and escaped in the darkness, shrieking murderously for help.
He was now compelled to give up the young girls, and turn his attention to his own safety. He went to the window to see whether he could jump out, and found it was quite a distance to the ground, while opposite stood a high wall. Suddenly he heard voices approaching his room. As they reached his door, he grasped his clothes and dagger in desperation, and swung himself out of the window. The fall was a hard one, but he felt that no bones were broken, and sprang up to run to the wall, which he climbed, to the astonishment of the pursuers, and was soon at liberty. He ran until he reached a small wood, where he flung himself down exhausted. Here he considered what was to be done.
His servants and horses he had been forced to leave, but the money which he carried in his girdle was safe, and his ingenuity shortly discovered another mode of rescue. He went on through the forest until he came to a village, where for a little money he bought a horse that quickly carried him to a city. Once there he inquired for a physician, and an old and experienced man was recommended to him. By the aid of some gold pieces, he induced this physician to furnish him with a medicine that would produce a death-like sleep, that might, however, be instantly dispelled by some other remedy. When he had procured these medicines, he bought a false beard, a black gown, and all manner of little boxes and alembics, so that he properly represented a traveling physician--loaded his traps on an ass and journeyed back to the castle of Thiuli-Kos. He was certain this time of not being known, as the beard made such a complete change in his appearance that he felt doubtful of his own identity.
On arriving at Thiuli's, he announced himself as the physician Chakamankabudibaba. The result was as he had foreseen: the high-sounding name recommended him so highly to the weak old Pasha that he was at once invited to dinner. After an hour's conversation, the old man resolved to submit all his female slaves to the treatment of the wise physician. Mustapha could now hardly conceal his joy at the prospect of seeing his beloved sister again, and followed Thiuli with a beating heart, as he led the way to the seraglio. They came to a room beautifully decorated but unoccupied.
"Chambaba, or whatever you call yourself, dear doctor," said Thiuli-Kos, "look for a moment at yonder hole in the wall; each one of my slaves will put her arm through it in succession, and you can ascertain by the pulse who the sick are and who the well."
Mustapha's objections to this arrangement were of no avail; he was not permitted to see the slaves; still Thiuli consented to inform him of each one's general state of health. Thiuli then drew out a long sheet of paper from his sash, and began to call the roll of his female slaves