the gulf, and the old man threw himself back in a perspiration of
horror. He was afraid! He drew back shuddering, and covering his face
in his hands he wept aloud.

Presently he was aware of a gentle radiance that shed itself before
him. Surely morning was not already coming to hasten and reveal his
disgrace! He took his hands from before his face, and saw before him
two lovely beings whom his instinct told him were not mortal, but were
Peris from Paradise.

'Why do you weep, old man?' said one, in a voice as clear and musical
as that of the bulbul.

'I weep for shame,' replied he.

'What do you here?' questioned the other.

'I came here to die,' said Wali Dad. And as they questioned him, he
confessed all his story.

[Illustration: WALI DAD AND THE PERIS]

Then the first stepped forward and laid a hand upon his shoulder, and
Wali Dad began to feel that something strange--what, he did not
know--was happening to him. His old cotton rags of clothes were
changed to beautiful linen and embroidered cloth; on his hard, bare
feet were warm, soft shoes, and on his head a great jewelled turban.
Round his neck there lay a heavy golden chain, and the little old bent
sickle, which he cut grass with, and which hung in his waistband, had
turned into a gorgeous scimetar, whose ivory hilt gleamed in the
pale light like snow in moonlight. As he stood wondering, like a man
in a dream, the other peri waved her hand and bade him turn and see;
and, lo! before him a noble gateway stood open. And up an avenue of
giant plane trees the peris led him, dumb with amazement. At the end
of the avenue, on the very spot where his hut had stood, a gorgeous
palace appeared, ablaze with myriads of lights. Its great porticoes
and verandahs were occupied by hurrying servants, and guards paced to
and fro and saluted him respectfully as he drew near, along mossy
walks and through sweeping grassy lawns where fountains were playing
and flowers scented the air. Wali Dad stood stunned and helpless.

'Fear not,' said one of the peris; 'go to your house, and learn that
God rewards the simple-hearted.'

With these words they both disappeared and left him. He walked on,
thinking still that he must be dreaming. Very soon he retired to rest
in a splendid room, far grander than anything he had ever dreamed of.

When morning dawned he woke, and found that the palace, and himself,
and his servants were all real, and that he was not dreaming after
all!

If