“And pray who had done all this slaughter?”
“I!” said Murad, who entered, pale and gory, followed by two slaves dragging the young lion along in chains.
Marsillus rose, ran to his son, clasped him in his arms, and covered him with caresses.
His son did not return them, for he had fainted, overcome with pain and loss of blood. I need hardly say he was tended as became the son of a king, and the slayer of lions.
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A few days after, the prime minister submitted a report to the sultan, proving in the clearest manner that the prince’s tutor had committed suicide. Marsillus smiled.
“Well done, vizier! I see how to reward you: you shall take the place left vacant by my son’s tutor.”