the day of the first new moon, accordingly, the whole of the people
were assembled in the presence of their Prince. Each ate, drank, and
enjoyed himself as much as he could, well satisfied that in so doing
he fulfilled the decree of his Sovereign.

Glad at heart was Smaragdine, for she flattered herself that this
assembling of the people might one day or other furnish the means of
getting some intelligence concerning her dear Alischar. Just while
this thought passed through her mind, behold, a man rose up, and
stretching out his hand, drew to himself from some distance a dish of
milk, in which rice, sugar, and cinnamon were mingled, and there arose
a cry of "Shame! shame! shame on the glutton, who is unsatisfied with
that which the King's bounty had placed before his own seat."

"The reason," said the man, "is only this, that they have placed a
fricassee before me, and I eat no fricassees."

"I am convinced," cries another, "that this is some dog of an Infidel,
and that this happens to be one of their fast-days."

Smaragdine, whom this disturbance had not escaped, gave orders
forthwith that the man should be brought before her throne. The people
ceased from eating and drinking, and every eye and ear were fixed upon
the footstool of the Sultan.

"What is your name?" said Smaragdine, "and for what purpose have you
come into my states?"

The wretch, who had clothed himself in a white turban, which of right
belongs only to the Moslems, made answer, "My name is Ali; I am a
weaver by trade, and I have come hither in the hope to gain my bread
honestly by the labour of my hands."

"Well, well," says Smaragdine, "bring quickly hither my necromantic
tablet _Romla_, and the steel pen that belongs to it, and soon shall
the truth be made manifest."

With that she began, apparently, her calculation, cast her eyes
upwards, and after a pause of some moments, said, "Dog, thou liest!
Thou art a Giaour, and thou hast come hither with some wicked
intention. Confess the truth, or thy head flies from thy shoulders
upon the spot!"

"Pardon! pardon!" cried the stranger, altogether astonished; for he
never doubted that the secret virtue of the _Romla_ had detected him:
"pardon, great King! It is true I am a Giaour."

Smaragdine gave orders that he should instantly be hung, his carcass
thrown into the court of offal, and his head fixed before the gate of
the palace. The people witnessed the execution, and applauded equally
the astro