ght some shade where he might screen himself from their influence.
He lay down on a neighbouring mossy bank, and meditated anew on his
fate. Besides his own grief at his imprisonment, the thought of his
father's sorrow at his loss pained him. The exhaustion consequent on
his tears and loud lamentations, joined with the noontide heat, at
last caused him to fall into a deep sleep. When he awoke, the table
covered with meats was again before him: he ate, and wandered anew
mournfully through the garden, meditating whether he could not make a
ladder from the trees around him, to aid him in his escape over the
lattice. But there was something wanting for this work: he had not
even a dagger or a pocket-knife. During these thoughts the old man
appeared, and said,

"Evening is drawing on. Follow me in."

He led him again to the upper room of the tower, and locked the metal
door upon him.

There was no change observable in his prison--only the bird seemed
harassed and mournful: it sat quiet and still on the lowest perch; its
plumage was rough, and its eyes dull.

"Poor creature," said Haschem, "what is the matter? Are you ill?"

It seemed as if the bird was affected by these sympathizing questions;
but it soon sank again into its former dejection. He mused long upon
this.

The next day and the following ones passed like the former; but on the
ninth the old man again appeared, led him into the garden, and at
night conducted him back into the hall. He took care of the bird; and
as soon as he had given it food and water, he always found the table
covered with meats behind him. In the intervals he stood at the
lattice of one of the three windows looking on the plain below,
earnestly hoping to catch sight of some person to free him from his
captivity.

In such monotonous employment many months passed away. Every ninth day
the old man appeared, and gave him leave to walk in the garden; but he
did not derive much amusement from his strolls in this narrow
enclosure. In the meantime he asked the old man many times the reason
of his imprisonment, and how long it was to last. No answer was
vouchsafed but these words: "Every man has his own fate. This is
thine."

CHAPTER IV.

THE DELIVERANCE.

One day the old man appeared and led him into the garden; but he had
not been there more than a quarter of an hour, when he returned,
called him in, and then quickly retired with marks of disquietude.
Haschem also remarked that the w