In a few moments the branch gave way, and the Khoja fell to the ground.
When he recovered himself he jumped up, and ran after the man who had warned him.
"O you fellow!" cried he. "It has happened to me even as you foretold. At the moment when the branch was cut through I fell to the ground. Now, therefore, since the future is open to thee, I beseech thee to tell me the day of my death."
"This madness is greater than the other," replied the man. "The day of death is among the hidden counsels of the Most High."
But the Khoja held him by the gown and continued to urge him, saying, "You told me when I should fall from the tree, and it came to pass to the moment. Tell me now how long I have to live." And as he would not release him, but kept crying, "How much time have I left?" the man lost patience, and said, "O fool! there is no more time left to thee. The days of the years of thy life are numbered."
"Then I am dead, lo I am dead!" said the Khoja, and he lay down, and stiffened himself, and did not move.
By and by his neighbours came and stood at his head, and having observed him, they brought a bier and laid him on it, saying, "Let us take him to his own house."