“Ali! Ali! my beloved friend! Gulhyndi often weeps for thee,” said the starling, stretching out her neck, bending not, and looking at him shrewdly.
Now a fine bird, in a golden cage, began to whistle a melody which Ali had taught Gulhyndi shortly before they parted. “Oh, she loves me!” he cried. “She is here! She has taught these feathered songsters my name and my songs. How many times must her lips have repeated these words before these birds knew them.” At this moment he heard some one approaching; “It is she!” he said to himself, “but she must not see me yet—I must prolong this blessed moment.” With his staff he traced the following lines in the sand:
“Lovely Gulhyndi, sorrow no more,
What hate has taken, love will restore;
The sun is more bright when the storm is o’er.”
He had scarcely done this than the fair Gulhyndi, like a lovely queen of nature, appeared with her numerous train. As a proud body guard, there stepped before, with majestic step, two large bay coloured lions, with thick manes. By her side walked the beautiful Argus, as a faithful friend; while the most lovely birds fluttered, and the most lovely beasts of the forest gamboled around her. The train was closed by a troop of snow-white lambs with red ribbons round their necks, each having a singing-bird on its head, chirping, while the lambs bleated. Last of all came a stag, whose large antlers were hung with bells; so that the bleating of lambs, the singing of birds, and the bells of the stag were not unlike a merry band of Turkish music.
When they arrived at the grotto, the two lions lay down on either side of the entrance, and Gulhyndi, with her Argus, entered. All the rest remained without, forming a semicircle, while Gulhyndi took her repast. Two monkeys stood behind her couch, officiating as servants, and offering her fruit, and water from the fountain. Argus stood by her side, and, with his beak, caught in the air all the fragments which she flung to him with her white hand. All that he missed, so that it fell to the ground, the little starling snapped up before Argus had time to stoop after it.
When the repast was over, Argus went to the entrance, spread his shining fan, and turned it several times, upon which the assembled courtiers without dispersed. Only the lions remained at their post, and Argus remained in the grotto with her mistress, as lady in waiting.
Ali trembled with emotion when he beheld Gulhyndi, her fair hair flowing in long tresses. She wore a green silk robe, fastened with a purple girdle, without any other ornament. She appeared taller, more blooming and majestic; she was no longer the languishing, pensive, Oriental beauty sighing for liberty, but the healthy, sprightly daughter of Eve, blooming as the fairest flower in nature. Still a soft desire seemed to depress her arched brow, and indicated that, in the midst of abundance, she still lacked something.
While she was sitting with her eyes cast downwards, she discovered the lines traced on the sand. She immediately recognised the characters, but was doubtful whether she should trust her eyes. What was her delight when convinced of the truth, by the happy Ali hastening and throwing himself at her feet! Both now were in Paradise.
When their first transport was over, they related all that had happened to them since they last met. She told him that once, when she was alone in the grotto, the two lions had suddenly broken through the hedge. At this she was at first alarmed, but soon recovered on seeing that they lay down on either side of the entrance, like obedient dogs, and followed her as faithful guards. Ali could not suppress an inward shudder at seeing that they resembled the bronze lions which, at Peribanu’s command, had become hairy, and left the subterranean apartment. He now built a hut in the neighbourhood of his Gulhyndi, without concern for his father, whom he confidently supposed was in the power of the fairy. But, unfortunately, this poor father had not fared so well as his happy son wished.
Ibrahim wandered for a long time in that awful night; he hastened to the opposite side to get clear of the burning wood, instead of penetrating through it as Ali had done. The ground became so stony and rugged, that he could no longer ride on his camel. He tied it to a tree, and endeavoured to make his way on foot through the thick bushes, in order to reach a high tree, on which he might pass the night without fear of serpents and wild beasts. As he proceeded, he fell into a dark, damp, deep pit, where he lay for some time senseless. When he recovered, he had only a faint recollection of the causes of his present situation; he had quite forgotten Hussain’s and Gulhyndi’s death, and fancied he had fled with his son from Bagdad, to escape the persecutions of the malicious cadi.