e foot of the hill, on which the pillar
stood; there they pitched splendid tents, and the whole looked like
the travelling-suite of some rich bashaw or sheik. Labakan perceived
that the numerous train which met his eye, had taken the pains to come
hither on his account, and gladly would he that moment have shown them
their future lord; but he mastered his eager desire to walk as
prince; for, indeed, the next morning would consummate his boldest
wishes.

The morning sun awoke the too happy tailor to the most important
moment of his life, which would elevate him from an inferior
situation, to the side of a royal father. As he was bridling his horse
to ride to the pillar, the injustice of his course, indeed, occurred
to him; his thoughts pictured to him the anguish of the true prince,
betrayed in his fine hopes; but the die was cast: what was done could
not be undone, and self-love whispered to him that he looked stately
enough to pass for the son of the mightiest king. Inspirited by these
reflections, he sprang upon his horse, and collecting all his courage
to bring him to an ordinary gallop, in less than a quarter of an hour,
reached the foot of the hill. He dismounted from his horse, and
fastened it to one of the shrubs that were growing near; then he drew
the dagger of Prince Omar, and proceeded up the hill. At the base of
the pillar six persons were standing around an old gray-haired man, of
lofty king-like aspect. A splendid caftan of gold cloth surrounded by
a white Cashmere shawl, a snowy turban spangled with glittering
precious stones, pointed him out as a man of opulence and nobility. To
him Labakan proceeded, and bowing low before him, said, as he extended
the dagger--

"Here am I, whom you seek."

"Praise to the Prophet who has preserved thee!" answered the
gray-haired one, with tears of joy. "Omar, my beloved son, embrace
thine old father!" The good tailor was deeply affected by these solemn
words, and sank, with mingled emotions of joy and shame, into the arms
of the old noble.

But only for a moment was he to enjoy the unclouded delight of his new
rank; raising himself from the arms of the king, he saw a rider
hastening over the plain in the direction of the hill. The traveller
and his horse presented a strange appearance; the animal, either from
obstinacy or fatigue, seemed unwilling to proceed. He went along with
a stumbling gait, which was neither a pace nor a trot; but the rider
urged him on, with