display their best skill, while I would smoke comfortably the chibouk, call for the rich sherbet, and enjoy myself with all this like a king in Bagdad." "The Sheik," said a third of these young people, who was a scribe, "the Sheik must be a learned and wise man, and truly his lectures upon the Koran evince familiarity with all the poets and writings of wisdom, but is his life so regulated as beseems a reasonable being? There stands a slave with a whole armful of scrolls-I would give my best suit to be allowed to read even one of them, for they are certainly rare things, but he he sits and smokes and leaves the books unnoticed. Were I the Sheik Ali Banu, that fellow should read before me until he were out of breath, or until night came, and even then he should not cease reading until I had fallen asleep." "Ha! you know indeed how to live a fine life," laughed a fourth, " to eat and drink, sing and dance, read sentences, and hear the poems of miserable poets! No-I would do very different ly. He has the finest horses and camels, and much money; were I in his place I would travel-travel to the end of the world, even to the Muskovites, even to the Franks. No journey would be too far to see the riches of the world; thus would I do were I that man yonder." "Youth is a lovely time, and the age when one is happy," said an old man of needy appearance who stood near them, and had heard their discourse," but permit me also to say that youth is foolish and prates at random without knowing what.” "What mean you by that, old man ?" inquired the young people in surprise. "Do you mean us by that? What matter is it to you if we blame the life of the Sheik? "If any one knows anything better than another, let him correct his error; such is the will of the prophet," returned the old man. "The Sheik, it is true, is blessed with treasures, and possesses all which the heart desires; still has he cause to be serious and sorrowful. Think you he has always been thus ? No; fifteen years ago I saw him, and then he was cheerful and active as the gazelle, and lived happily and enjoyed the world. At that time he had a son, the delight of his days, beautiful and well-shaped, and whoever saw him and heard him speak, must have envied the Sheik this treasure, for he was only ten years old, and still was already as learned as others scarcely are at eighteen." "And is he dead? The poor Sheik !" exclaimed the young scribe. "It would be a consolation for him to know that he had gone home to the dwelling of the Prophet, where he would be better provided for than here in Alexandria; but he has not this consolation. It was at that time when the Franks, like hungry wolves, crossed into our land and warred with us. They had conquered Alexandria, and marched out hence farther and farther, and attacked the Mamelukes. The Sheik was a wise man, and knew how to keep on good terms with them; but whether they coveted his treasures, or that he had afforded shelter to some believing Mussulmans, I am not certainly informed. Well, they came one day into his house, and accused him of secretly supplying the Mamelukes with arms, horses, and provisions. It was in vain to assert his innocence, for the Franks are a rough, hard-hearted people, when they wish to extort money. They took his young son, Kairam, as he was called, as a hostage into their camp. He offered much gold for him, but they refused to give him up, in hopes probably of urging him to higher offers. All at once there came a command from their Basha, or whoever it was, to embark. No one in Alexandria knew a word thereof, and, suddenly, they were upon the broad sea, and it is probable that they carried little Kairam, Ali Banu's son, with them, for nothing has since been heard of him." "Ah, the poor man, how has Allah stricken him!" exclaimed the young people with one voice, and looked compassionately towards the Sheik, who,. surrounded by splendor, sat lonely and sad beneath the palm trees. "His wife, whom he much loved, died from sorrow for her son. As for him, he purchased a ship, equipped it, and agreed with a Frankish physician, who lives below by the brook yonder, to journey with him to Frangistan, to seek out his lost son. They embarked, were a long time upon the sea, and arrived at last in the land of those Giaours, those unbelievers who had been in Alexandria. But there things were in a dreadful condition. They had killed their Sultan with the Bashas; the poor and rich were beheading and murdering each other, and there was no longer any order in the land. In vain sought they in every city after the little Kairam; no one knew anything of him, and the Frankish Doctor at last counselled the Sheik to set sail, because otherwise perhaps even their own heads would have been in danger. "So they returned again; and since his arrival, the Sheik has lived as on this day, for he mourns for his son, and he has cause. When he eats and drinks, must he not think, Now perhaps my poor Kairam is without food and drink! And when he clothes himself with rich shawls, fine garments, as his office and dignity demand, must he not say, He now, perhaps, has not wherewith to cover his nakedness! And when he is surrounded by singers and dancers and readers, his slaves, says he not, Now, perhaps, is my poor son obliged to dance and play before his Frankish master, as he orders it. And what gives him the greatest sorrow is, he believes that so far from the land of his fathers, and in the midst of unbelievers, who will scoff at him, the little Kairam will become an apostate from the faith of his country, and he will not one day be able to embrace him in the gardens of paradise. For this reason he is so mild towards his slaves, and gives great sums to the poor, for he thinks Allah will repay it, and move, perhaps, the heart of his Frankish master, that he treat his son mildly. And when that day comes upon which his son was torn from him, he gives twelve slaves their freedom." "Of this I also have heard," replied the scribe. "Singular reports indeed are rumored, but not a word of his son is mentioned in them. It is said merely that he is a strange man, and fond of listening to the narrations of his slaves. It is said also that every year he has a trial of skill among them, and to the one whose story most delights he gives his liberty." "Trust not to the speech of the people," said the old man, "it is as I have said, and I know it accurately. It is possible that on that heavy day he may wish to cheer himself, and listens to their tales, but he frees them for his son's sake. But the evening is getting cool, and I must go my way. Salaam aleikam! Peace be with you, ye young men, and for the future think better of the good Sheik." The young people thanked the old man for his information, looked once again at the sorrowing father, and walked down the street, saying to each other, "After all I would not be the Sheik Ali Banu." Not long after these young people had spoken with the old man of the Sheik Ali Banu, it happened that about the time of the morning prayer they walked again through this street. The old man and his narrative then occurred to them, and with one voice they grieved for the Sheik, and looked towards his house. But what was their astonishment, to see there everything adorned in the most sumptuous manner. Streamers and pennons waved from the roof, where the beautiful, gaily dressed slaves were walking; the entrance hall of the house was covered with costly carpets; silken stuff joined to this was spread over the broad steps of the winding ascent, and even upon the street beautiful fine cloth was extended, from which many would have wished a foot carpet or a festival suit. "Ha! how the Sheik has changed within a few days," said the young scribe. "Will he give a feast? Will he employ his singers and dancers ? Look at these carpets-has any one as fine in all Alexandria? And this cloth upon the common earth-truly it is a shame!" "Do you know what I think?" said another. "He receives certainly some high guest, for these are the preparations which they make, when a lord of extensive lands, or an Effendi from the Grand Seignor blesses a house with his presence. Who can it be that comes to-day?" "Look, is not that our late old friend walking yonder? Ha! he knows all about it doubtless, and must give us an explanation of the matter. Ho, there? old man. Will you not step hither?" Thus they called; the old man observed their signs, and came to them, for he recognized them as the young people with whom he had spoken a few days before. They called his attention to the preparations in the house of the Sheik, and asked him if he knew not what high guest was expected. "You think, then," he replied, "that Ali Banu celebrates a festival, or that the visit of a great lord honors his house. It is not so; but to-day, as you know, is the twelfth of the month Ramadan, and on this day was his son carried away into the camp of the Franks." 66 But, by the beard of the Prophet," exclaimed one of the young people, "everything looks as if arranged for bridal festivities, and still it is his well known day of mourning. How rhyme you that together? Confess the Sheik is somewhat shattered in his understanding." "Judge you always so hastily ?" asked the old man, smiling. "Your arrow was this time pointed and sharp, and the string of your bow tightly drawn, and still have you shot wide from the mark. Know, that to-day the Sheik expects his son." "He is found, then," exclaimed the youths, and were delighted. "No, and perhaps he will not be found for a long time; but learn, that eight or ten years ago, when the Sheik passed this day in mourning and lamentation, and freed his slaves, and gave many poor food and drink, it happened also that he afforded nourishment to a dervish, who lay weary and faint beneath the shadow of his house. The dervish was a holy man, and skilled in prophesying and in reading the stars. When he was strengthened by the mild hand of the Sheik, he approached him and said: 'I know the cause of thy sorrow; is not to-day the twelfth of the month Ramadan, and hast thou not on this day lost thy son? But be consoled. This day of mourning will become a day of joy to thee; for know, that on this day thy son will return.' Thus spake the dervish. It were a sin for a Mussulman to doubt the words of such a man. Ali's sorrow, it is true, was not thereby removed; still, however, he awaits on this day the return of his son, and adorns his house, his halls and steps, as if he might arrive at each hour." "Wonderful!" replied the scribe. "But would that I could be there to see how nobly all is arranged, how he himself mourns in the midst of this splendor, and especially to listen to the stories of his slaves.' "Nothing is easier than this," answered the old man. "The overseer of the slaves in that house has been my friend for many years, and grants me always a place in the apartment on this day, where amid the crowd of servants and friends of the Sheik, a single person is not observed. I will speak with him that he may admit you. You are only four, and it can easily be arranged. Come to this spot about the ninth hour, and I will give you an answer." Thus said the old man; the young people thanked him, and departed full of curiosity for the result. At the appointed hour they came upon the square before the house of the Sheik. The old man approached them, and said that the overseer of the slaves had permitted him to bring them with him. He went forward, not up the richly covered steps, and through the wide portal, but by a side door which he carefully locked again. Then he led them through several passages until they came to the large saloon. There was here a great throng from all sides ; there were richly dressed men, noble lords of the city, and friends of the Sheik, who had come to console him in his grief. There were slaves of all kinds and nations. But they all appeared sorrowful, for they loved their master, and mourned with him. At the end of the saloon upon a rich divan sat the chosen friends of Ali Banu, and were attended by slaves. Near them, upon the floor, sat the Sheik, for sorrow for his son permitted him not to sit upon the carpet of joy. His head was supported upon his hand, and he seemed little to hear the consolation which his friends whispered to him. Opposite to him sat some old and young men, in slaves' apparel. The old man informed his young friends that these were the slaves to whom Ali Banu would this day give their freedom. There were among them some Franks, and he particularly called their attention to one of them who was distinguished for his beauty, and was still very young. The Sheik had a few days before purchased him from a slave merchant of Tunis, for a great sum, and still he already gave him his liberty; for he believed that the more Franks he sent back to their native land, so much the sooner would the Prophet release his son. After fruits and sherbets had been carried around to all, the Sheik gave a sign to the overseer of the slaves. This one stood up, and there was a deep silence in the apartment. He stepped in front of those slaves who were to be freed, and said, with a clear and distinct voice: "Ye men who to-day are to ob tain your freedom by the favor of my lord Ali Banu, the Sheik of Alexandria, do now as is the custom on this day, in this house, and commence your narrations." They whispered with one another. An old slave then raised his voice, and commenced as follows: THE STORY OF THE SPECTRE SHIP. My father owned a little shop in Balsora; he was neither poor nor rich, and was one of those kind of men who are unwilling to venture anything, from the fear of losing the little which they have. He educated me plainly, but well, and soon brought me along so far that I could be of some assistance to him. When I was about eighteen years old, and at the time when he made his first great venture, he died, probably out of sorrow that he had trusted a thousand pieces of gold to the sea. Soon afterwards, however, I could not help viewing his death as a blessing to him, since he died ignorant of a misfortune, which he would have dreaded even more than the loss of life, for the news came in a few weeks that the ship to which my father trusted his property had been wrecked. But this event could not bend my youthful courage. All which my father had left behind I turned into money, and went forth to seek my fortune in a foreign country, accompanied only by an old servant of my father's, who from long attachment would not separate himself from me and my fate. We set sail from the harbor of Balsora with a favorable wind. The ship in which I had embarked was bound for India. We had already proceeded fifteen days upon the ordinary course, when the captain announced to us the approach of a storm. He looked disturbed, for it seemed he was not sufficiently acquainted with the navigation in those seas to meet a storm with composure. He ordered all the sails to be taken in, and we were driven slowly along. The night had come on; it was clear and cold, and the captain believed that he had been deceived in his expectation of a storm. Suddenly a ship glided by us, which we had not before observed. Wild shouting and screaming resounded from the deck, at which I greatly wondered, in that hour of anxiety, before an approaching tempest. But the captain, who stood at my side, became pale as death. "My ship is lost!" he exclaimed. "There sail the DEAD!" Before I could question him concerning the singular exclamation, the sailors rushed in screaming and howling. Have you seen it?" they cried. It is now all over with us!" 66 66 At the captain's desire some devout sentences were read from the Koran, and he then placed himself at the helm. But in vain! The storm now commenced to rage, and before an hour had passed the ship struck, and remained immovable. Her boats were got out, and scarcely had they rescued the last sailor, when the ship sank before our eyes, and I was a beggar upon the wide sea. I clasped my old servant in my arms, and we promised not to forsake each other. At last the day broke; but the reddish gleam of the morning had scarce met our eyes, when the wind caught the boat in which we sat, and in an instant overturned it. I have never seen any of the ship's crew since. The accident had stunned me, and when I recovered I found myself in the arms of my faithful old servant, who had saved himself upon the bottom of the boat, and had drawn me up after him. The storm had subsided. Nothing more was to be seen of our vessel, but we descried another ship not far off, towards which the waves were driving us. As we came nearer, I recognized it as the same which had passed us in the night, and at which the captain had been so terrified. I felt a strange horror at that ship. The exclamation of the captain, which had been so fearfully confirmed, the desolate appearance of the vessel, upon which no one was to be seen, however near we came to it, or however loud we called out-all this filled me with terror. But it was our only means of safety, and quieting our fears we thanked the Prophet who had so wonderfully preserved us. A long rope hung down from the prow of the ship. We rowed towards it with our hands and feet, in order to lay hold thereof. We at last succeeded. I called out loudly, but not a sound was to be heard on board. We climbed up by the rope, I, as the youngest, first. But who can imagine my horror at the spectacle which met my sight as I stepped upon the deck! It was stained with blood, and thereupon lay from twenty to thirty bodies in Turkish garments, around. Against the mainmast stood a man richly dressed, with a drawn cimeter in his hand; his face was pale and distorted, and a large nail was driven directly through his forehead, which fastened him to the mast. He too was dead. Terror held my steps; I ventured scarcely to breathe. By this time my companion had ascended. The view of the deck, which showed nothing living, but only so many frightful corpses, startled him also. We ventured at last to proceed farther, after we had prayed in anguish of soul to the Prophet. At each step we looked about us, to see if nothing new and more fearful would display itself; but every thing remained as it was; all around there was nothing living, nothing moving, but ourselves and the ocean. We did not once venture to speak loud, from fear that the dead captain, who was nailed to the mast, might cast his staring eyes upon us, or one of the bodies turn its head. At last we arrived to the stairs which led to the cabin. Here we involuntarily made a pause, and looked upon each other, for neither of us ventured to express his thoughts. "Oh, master!" said my faithful servant, at last, "something dreadful has happened here. But even if the ship is full of murderers below, yet I would rather yield myself to their mercy or their cruelty, than to stay longer among these dead." I thought as he did; we took heart and descended, full of anxiety. But all was as still as the grave here also, except the noise of our steps as they sounded upon the stairs. We stood at the door of the cabin. I placed my ear against it, and listened, but there was nothing to be heard. I opened it. The room presented a singular appearance. Garments, and weapons, and various other things lay scattered around. Everything was in confusion. The crew, or at least the captain, must have been carousing very lately, for the traces of it were still evident. We went on from room to room, and found everywhere a rare store of silks, pearls, sugar, &c., &c. I was overjoyed at this sight, for as no one was in the ship, I thought that all would come into my possession, but Ibrahim recalled to me the thought that we were still very far from land; whither we could not arrive alone and without aid. We refreshed ourselves with the food and drink of which we found an abundance, and ascended, at last, again upon the deck. But here we were in continual horror, at the fearful spectacle before us. We resolved at last to get rid of the bodies, by throwing them into the sea; but what were our feelings, when we found that not one of them could be moved from its place! They lay as if fast bound to the deck, and to remove them, it would be necessary to tear up the planks, for the accomplishment of which we were destitute of instruments. The captain also could not be made loose from the mast, neither could we force the cimeter from his rigid hand. We passed the day in sad reflections upon our situation, and when the night drew on, I permitted old Ibrahim to lay down and sleep, while I watched upon the deck, in order to look around for aid. But as the moon arose, and when I reckoned by the stars that it was about eleven o'clock, such an irresistible sleep fell upon me that I sank down behind a cask that stood upon the deck. Yet it was rather stupefaction than sleep, for I heard plainly the sea washing against the side of the ship, and the sails rattling and whistling in the wind. Suddenly I thought I heard voices and steps upon the deck. I tried to raise myself up in order to look around for them, but an invisible power seemed to render me motionless, nor was I able even to unclose my eyes. But the voices became still more distinct, and it appeared to me as if a merry ship's crew were hurrying to and fro about the deck. Among these I thought I could distinguish the powerful voice of one in command, and I heard clearly the ropes and sails drawn up and down. By degrees my senses disappeared, and I fell into a deep sleep, in which a clashing of weapons seemed still to reach my ear. When I awoke the sun stood high, and was casting his burning rays upon my face. I gazed around in wonder; storm and ship, the dead, and all that I had heard during the night, seemed to me a dream, but as I looked I found everything as it had been yesterday. The dead lay motion |