"He always sends you away when he comes," answered the Princess.
"Well," pursued Haschem, "the son could not conceal himself from me on the steps, or in the narrow passage."
"Well, well," she answered, "he carries him in his pocket."
Then Haschem cried out in his astonishment, "In his pocket! How can that be?"
The Princess related to him that the young man was every time a white bird, like herself; that the enchanter put him into the cage with her, and that she felt such a dislike to him that she always fluttered about the cage to avoid getting near him; but that he, with his contrary friendly feeling, would follow her and settle confidingly near her.
"Oh," she continued, "you must have remarked how tired and mournful I always was when you returned on the ninth day."
Haschem, astonished at this explanation, assured her of his willingness to help her, but bewailed his helplessness. But the Princess would not give up hopes of their safety.
"It seems to me," said she, "a good omen that the enchanter has to-day received a message which caused him to leave so early and in such haste that he did not securely close the cage, and that you returned so early to-day from the garden. This day is my birthday, the only day that I can be delivered from the magician's power. On any other day I should still have remained a dumb bird if you had freed me from my cage; only on this day has my touching the floor restored me to my natural form: the enchantment lies in the cage."
Haschem then seized the cage, and said, "If it be so, we will break the enchantment." He threw the cage to the ground, stamped on it with his feet till it was quite flat and its shape no longer distinguishable, then he rolled it together, and threw it into a corner of the hall.
At this moment a frightful noise resounded through the air like violent thunder, a gale of wind seemed to shake the hall, and suddenly the doors opened, the curtains were drawn aside, and the magician stood before them with a countenance full of anger.