and said, "Mother, I have sent into all lands seeking
my father, but can hear no news of him. If there were only the
slightest clue as to the direction in which he went, there would still
be some chance of tracing him, but that, I fear, cannot be got. Do you
not remember his having said anything of the way which he intended to
go when he left you?" She answered, "When your father went away, his
words to me were, 'I will go to fetch food for us both, and fire to
cook it with, and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place
of shelter for you. Do not be afraid--I shall soon return.' That was
all he said, and then he went away, and I never saw him more."

"In what direction did he go from the foot of the garden?" asked the
Prince. "He went," answered the Panch-Phul Ranee, "toward that village
of conjurors close by. I thought he was intending to ask some of them
to give us food. But had he done so, he would certainly have returned
in a very short time."

"Do you think you should know my father, mother darling, if you were
to see him again?" asked the Prince. "Yes," answered she, "I should
know him again." "What!" he said, "even when eighteen years have gone
by since you saw him last? Even though age and sickness and want had
done their utmost to change him?" "Yes!" she replied; "his every
feature is so impressed on my heart that I should know him again
anywhere or in any disguise."

"Then let us," he said, "send for all those people in the direction of
whose houses he went away. Maybe they have detained him among them to
this day. It is but a chance, but we can hope for nothing more
certain."

So the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son sent down orders to the conjurors'
village that every one of the whole band should come up to the palace
that afternoon--not a soul was to stay behind. And the dancers were to
dance and the conjurors to play all their tricks for the amusement of
the palace inmates.

The people came. The nautch girls began to dance--running, jumping,
and flying here, there and everywhere, some up, some down, some round
and round. The conjurors conjured and all began in different ways to
amuse the company. Among the rest was one wild, ragged-looking man,
whose business was to beat the drum. No sooner did the Panch-Phul
Ranee set eyes on him than she said to her son, "Boy, that is your
father!" "What, mother!" he said, "that wretched-looking man who is
beating the drum?" "The same," she answered.

The P