He had not remained long in this state before he saw coming through a narrow rocky path, a little person dressed in black like a miner, with a lantern in his hand. “Lockman,” cried Ibrahim, who immediately recognised him, “you here, and in this garb! What does this mean? Where is my son?”
“You had better be your son’s keeper yourself,” replied Lockman; “I have nothing to do with him, but I have something to do with you. Up to work! you are now my slave.”
With these words he seized Ibrahim, exhausted as he was, and led him to the icy cold bath in the cleft. He then brought him out again, and gave him bread and water, such as he had given to Hussain; but in his cup there was no leech, and, on the whole, he treated him less harshly than the cadi.
When Ibrahim had taken his scanty meal, Lockman said: “Get up and go with me; it was always your favourite business to seek riches. I will show you the way to gold and precious stones.”
He then took him to the desert, and commanded him to search. When Ibrahim was left alone he was much confused, and grieved, but Lockman’s threats made him obey. Walking about in the burning heat, he passed a high piece of rock, in the shade of which some grass was growing. He there beheld a pale, haggard man with sunken cheeks, sitting down, greatly exhausted. Being naturally compassionate, he quickly ran for a pitcher of water, which he had taken to the desert to quench his thirst while working, and which, to keep the water fresh, he had buried in the sand. This he brought, and put it to the lips of the fainting man. The poor man drank, was refreshed, folded his hands as he raised his eyes, and said: “Who art thou, angel from heaven, that assistest me in my extremity?”
Ibrahim knew the voice, and cried in amazement, “Hussain, is it you?”
Hussain stared at him, saying, as well as exhaustion permitted, “Ibrahim, are you here? How, have you come into this vale of tears to comfort your enemy?”
“By some evil fate I have fallen into the hands of mine enemy,” replied Ibrahim, “who has condemned me to seek gold and precious stones in this desert.” When he said these words, Hussain put out his hands for the sack which he had filled that day with much labour; but what was his terror on finding it half empty! “What is this?” he cried; “have you come even in the last moments of my life to rob me and expose me to frightful punishment?”
Ibrahim affirmed that he had taken nothing; he felt compassion for poor Hussain, and forgot his own trouble.
“You lie, infamous fellow,” cried Hussain; “your bag is full, you have filled it from mine.”