other, you
mistake me: possibly, though not so communicative as yourself, I may
nevertheless be as brave and resolute."

"Alas!" answered the fakeer, "I begin to suspect that you are no true
brother: you know we are communicative among ourselves, but secret to
the world about us. By the faith which I profess, I will no longer
converse with you unless you give me some convincing proofs of the
genuineness of your profession!"

Here the Vizier, perceiving that the Sultan was hard pressed,
interrupted the fakeer, and said, "O holy fakeer, but stranger to our
tribe, whence comest thou that thou knowest not Elezren, the prince of
devotees in the city of Delhi, to whom the Emirs bow, and before whom
the populace lie prostrate as he passes? thou art indeed but newly
come to Delhi, since the fame of Elezren hath not been sounded in
thine ears."

"Brother," answered the fakeer, "the fame of Elezren is not confined
to Delhi alone, since all Asia receives him; but where are the silver
marks of wisdom on his cheeks, and the furrows of affliction, which
are deep-wrought in the aged front of Elezren?"

At these words the fakeer sprang from the ground, and, running into
the streets, he made the air echo with his complaints.

The mob, hearing that two young men had personated the appearance of
the caste, crowded to the place where the Sultan and his Vizier sat
trembling at their own temerity, and were just about to tear them to
pieces when the Vizier, stepping forward to meet them, cried aloud,

"Slaves, presume not to approach your Sultan! for know that Misnar,
the idol of his people, sits here disguised as a fakeer."

Luckily for the Prince, several of the foremost were well acquainted
with his features, or it is probable the mob would have looked upon
the Vizier's speech as only a device to prevent their fury. But when
the fakeer saw the foremost of the crowd acknowledge Misnar as their
Sultan, and fall down before him, he tried to escape.

"My friends," said the Sultan, "secure that wretch, and suffer him not
to escape. And, Horam," said he, turning to his Vizier, "let him be
confined in a dungeon this night, and to-morrow brought before me in
the divan of justice."

"The words of my lord," answered Horam, "are a law which cannot be
changed. But let me beseech my Prince to retire from the crowd."

Misnar willingly did as Horam advised; and the people made way for him
to the palace, crying out, "Long live Misnar, the prid