Vainly did his friends and kinsfolk try to console him. They could do nothing with him. He could not reconcile himself to the thought that those lovely eyes would never smile upon him again, that that dear mouth would never speak to him more.
One night, when Muhzin was lying back gloomily on his sleepless couch, suddenly, through the open door, a wondrous vision stood before him—a grey-haired old man, whose beard and turban shone like bright white flames.
And the vision spoke to him thus, in a gentle, consolatory voice—
"Muhzin, I have compassion on thy bitter affliction and upon thy grief. I see that thou art worthy of superhuman succour, because thou dost love after a superhuman sort. Thy wife hath not died, for she was not a mortal maid, but a peri. Eminha still lives, for she possesses the power of the peris to die whensoever she desires so to do, and awake in another realm, there to begin a new life, till she choose to die again, and so pursue her metamorphoses. Therefore gird up thy loins and set out forthwith on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and there sit down at the gate of the burial-place, hard by the well of Zemzem, and wait there. Wait there till a funeral procession comes thither, carrying a blue-painted coffin covered by a pall of yellow silk, which pall will be embroidered with blue letters and silver arabesques. Then thou shalt rush out, stop the funeral procession, uncover the face of the dead, and thou shalt find Eminha. The mourners will not believe that it is thy wife; but thou must then take from thy girdle this little box, which contains a salve, and touch the eyebrows and the lips of thy dead wife with thy anointed finger-tips, and then her eyes will open and her lips will mutter, 'Muhzin!' and no one will doubt any longer that it is indeed thy wife, and thou wilt bring her back to Stambul, and she will no longer desire to leave thee. But in order that thy treasures may not be stolen during the time of thy pilgrimage, take them not with thee, lest evildoers rob thee of them by the way, but commit them to the keeping of thy faithful friend, the honourable Ali Hojia, who is learned in the law, and an interpreter of the Koran, so that thou mayest find them all safe when thou returnest."
And with these words the grey-bearded old man vanished from before the eyes of Muhzin.
The merchant awoke full of amazement. He rubbed his eyes with both hands to see whether he was not still dreaming, lit a rushlight, and his amazement increased when he found on his table the little box which the old man from the other world had brought him; it was beautifully wrought of ivory, richly set with turquoises and perforated with gold. Such a masterpiece came from no human hand.
The next day he told the matter to Ali Hojia, to whom the enigmatical old man had referred him. The lawyer shook his head over it, as if he did not like the business at all, made objections, and tried to persuade Muhzin that he had dreamed it all, or imagined it with his eyes wide open, and finally appealed to his doubts by reminding him that the body of Eminha was now lying in the tomb where Muhzin had buried it—let him break open the tomb and see for himself, quoth Ali.
Muhzin hastened to perform the request of his friend, and behold—the dead body of Eminha was not in the desecrated tomb.
And now no power in the world was capable of keeping Muhzin back from following the voice of the heavenly vision. He put in his pouch whatever of ready money he had by him, and confided his whole store of gems to Ali Hojia, who was his nearest friend, and a worthy, honourable man to boot, till he himself should return from Mecca. And Ali took the charge upon him for friendship's sake.
Muhzin, after many vicissitudes, reached Mecca. On the road robbers attacked him, and robbed him of all his money, but, fortunately, the little box with the magic unguent escaped; it was concealed within his turban, and therefore they did not discover it. A beggar he entered the holy city, and lived from hand to mouth on the alms of compassionate pilgrims.