rd."

This prayer softened the unrelenting heart of the King, and, contrary
to the general expectation, the young officer obtained his pardon.

His name was Tirkan. He was a Prince who had fled from his father's
Court in order to escape the punishment of a fault which he had
committed. After having wandered unknown from kingdom to kingdom, he
at length settled at the Court of Baharkan, where he obtained
employment. He remained there for some time after the accident which
had befallen him; but his father, having discovered the place of his
retreat, sent him his pardon, and advised him to return to him. He
did this in such affectionate and paternal terms that Tirkan, trusting
in his father's goodness, immediately departed. His hopes were not
deceived, and he was re-established in all his rights.

King Baharkan, desiring one day to amuse himself with pearl-fishing,
embarked in a vessel with a design to coast along the shores of his
kingdom in search of pearls. An unexpected storm drove the ship into
the open sea. It became the sport of the winds and the waves, and,
stripped of all its rigging, ran aground on an unknown shore, and was
dashed to pieces against the rocks which surrounded it. The whole crew
perished. Baharkan alone was saved from shipwreck by a plank which he
had had the good fortune to seize. Fortunately, he landed on the
dominions of the monarch whose son had shot away his ear, and whom he
had pardoned.

Night began to descend when Baharkan landed. He wanted neither courage
nor vigour, and therefore took the first road that presented itself,
which led to a large fortified city. But, as the gates had just been
shut, he was forced to wait without till next day, and to pass the
night in a neighbouring churchyard.

Day began to appear, and the gates were opened. The first persons who
came from the city found, at the gate of the churchyard, a man who had
been murdered. Baharkan was coming out of it at the same time. The
efforts he had made in the evening to reach the coast with his plank
had given him some slight wounds, from which the blood was still
trickling. This proof appeared sufficient in the eyes of the
bystanders: he was taken for the murderer, and carried to prison.

There this unfortunate Prince, left to his own reflections, thus
communed with himself: "Heaven chastises thee, Baharkan. Thou wast
cruel, vindictive, and inexorable. With thee humanity had no value.
Thou sacrificedst thy brethren on