impatient to enjoy this execution, so long delayed, all seemed to
increase the embarrassment of the King. His Viziers, seeing him
hesitate again, were eager to fix his resolution by the strongest
remonstrances; and going over all the arguments they had already
alleged, they ended by alarming the King respecting the duration of
his power.

"I feel in spite of you," said the King, "that my heart revolts at
what I am doing; nevertheless, as the safety of my kingdom depends
upon this decree, I yield to your reasons. Let the criminal be
conducted to punishment."

That very instant the guard seized Aladin. He was bound with cords,
loaded with chains, and led without the city to the place where he was
to terminate his existence. The King himself, mounted upon an
elephant, and followed by his whole Court, repaired to the place of
punishment: he was seated upon a throne from which he would behold the
execution. The unfortunate Aladin was already on the scaffold, when
suddenly a stranger, rushing through the crowd, and removing the
guards and every obstacle that opposed his passage, threw himself into
the arms of Aladin.

"Oh, my son! my dear son!" exclaimed he, the tears flowing in a
torrent from his eyes. He could say no more, for grief stopped his
utterance.

This unexpected event threw the people into commotion, and the King
gave orders that the stranger should be brought before him.

"Sovereign monarch," said he to him, embracing his knees, "save the
life of the unfortunate young man whom you have condemned to death. If
a criminal must die, give orders for my punishment: I await it at your
feet."

"Who are you?" said the King. "What interest have you in this
criminal?"

"Sire, I am the chief of a band of robbers. Searching one day in the
desert for a fountain to allay the thirst of my company, I found upon
the grass, on the brink of a fountain, and at the feet of five
palm-trees, which covered it with their shadow, a piece of cloth
interwoven with gold, and some swaddling-clothes, on which an infant
lay. Moved with compassion for this innocent creature, I carried him
to my house, where my wife became his nurse. This child was not ours,
sire; but he was to us a gift from Heaven, and became dearer to us
than our own. He was endowed with such excellent qualities and so many
virtues, that we regretted our having abandoned those which the
exercise of our profession had made us forget; for in short--to my
shame I avow