He conveyed her straight to a cavern without the city, which was the hiding-place of the band. At that moment there was no one in it but the mother of the captain, who had been left to arrange the plunder of the preceding night, and in particular the wardrobe of a young cavalier whom they had murdered, and whose horse and portmanteau were observed just within the entrance of the cavern. The young robber handed over Smaragdine to the old lady's protection, and went out again in quest of more adventures; and no sooner were they alone than the old one began to praise Smaragdine's beauty, and to felicitate her upon the prospect of being bride to her own son, the captain, whose manifold accomplishments she most vigorously extolled. Smaragdine, after a little while, began to dry her tears, and by degrees affected to be quite comforted. She even went so far as to say that she regretted one thing more than all the rest, and this was that she could not take a bath, and be ready to give the captain a reception more worthy of his rank and character.
"Ah, the bath! the bath!" cries the old woman, "you are quite in the right; there is no comfort in this world like the bath; but it is a luxury I never enjoy, for I have nobody about me to shampoo me."
"Here am I," says Smaragdine; "allow me to attend on you the first, and then you will do the like good office to me."
The bargain was soon struck. The bath was got into order, and the old woman, the first time for many years, entered it. Smaragdine kept the water very hot, and rubbed and scrubbed the old dame so, that she was quite in transports, and at length fell fast asleep under the pleasing influence. While she slept Smaragdine took possession of the clothes and arms of the murdered cavalier, mounted his horse, and galloped from the cavern, without having the least notion whither.
When morning broke she found herself in an uncultivated country, destitute of any marks of human habitation. She ate some roots and fruits, allowed her horse to graze under the trees, and so proceeded all the day.
On the eleventh morning she descried, in the valley before her, a noble and beautifully situated town; and behold, as she drew nearer to the gates, there came from thence a multitude of horsemen, who surrounded her upon the highway, threw themselves on the ground before the hoofs of her horse, kissed her garment, and hailed her as the Sultan sent to them by the especial care of Heaven. Each man clapped his hands, and exclaimed, Allah jausur es Sultaun![18] that is to say, God give victory to the Sultan, King of the world—blessed be thy coming!
[18] This is a cry which still survives in Egypt—the very cry with which the inhabitants of that country welcomed successively, in 1800-1, the Generals of the French, the Turkish, and the English armies.
What may all this mean? thinks the bewildered girl to herself. She asked the question aloud, and the Lord High Chamberlain hastened to answer it. "Know, sire," said he, "that when the Sovereign of this city dies without children, all the inhabitants are, according to the constitution, assembled together in the great street, there ready to come out and salute as their Prince the first traveller who happens to emerge from the wilderness; and in this manner it is impossible for us not to acknowledge the finger of Providence, who gives the crown to the person He judges most fit to wear it. Heaven be praised for having sent us, on this occasion, a King such as you seem to be; for had it been never such a ragamuffin, or even scoundrel, it must have been equally our duty to welcome him as our lord."
"Believe not," answered Smaragdine, recollecting herself, "believe not that in me you hail any low-born Prince. No, my lords, I am the son of a noble house, who happened to take into my head the fancy of riding through the world in quest of adventures; and here, as you perceive, gentlemen, here is one that appears to be by no means of a despicable description to begin with."