“I will be revenged on this faithless woman,” muttered Jonathan, as he entered Subtilia’s house bearing the last bequest of Darius. “Subtilia,” he said, “come, see the third bequest of the good king: this splendid carpet—here sit down with me on it.”
Subtilia was hardly seated on the carpet, ere Jonathan wished that they were in a desert place, far, far from the abode of man. His wish was hardly complete before they were both in a drear solitude, many hundreds of miles from a human abode, and where wild beasts and deadly serpents abounded.
“Subtilia!” exclaimed Jonathan, “thou art now in my power: restore the ring and the necklace, or die by the mouths of beasts, or the slow torture of famine; no human footstep ever treads these solitudes.”
“We perish together, Jonathan.”
“Delude not thyself so, false woman,” rejoined Jonathan, in anger; “I have but to wish myself away, and find my wish accomplished; choose therefore—death, or the restoration of the ring and the necklace.”
“I have his secret,” muttered Subtilia to herself; and then, with a most piteous voice, “my dear lord, I pray thee give me time—but an hour, or even less—before I decide.”
“As you wish; until the sun touches the top of yonder pine tree, consider your choice.”
Whilst the time was passing away, the heat of the day seduced Jonathan into a slight sleep. Subtilia saw the advantage; slowly, and softly, she drew away the carpet from beneath him, and as, awakened by her last efforts, he would have regained the magic carpet, she wished herself again at Rome, and passed from his sight. He was alone in the desert, whilst she revelled in every luxury that could be obtained through the means of the three gifts of his royal father.
Jonathan meditated on his situation, and upbraided himself for his own foolishness: whether to bend his steps from that dreadful wilderness he knew not, but committing himself by prayer to God’s especial protection, he followed a narrow path, and at length reached the banks of a large river. The river was not deep, and Jonathan essayed to pass it. Though the water was so hot that it burnt the flesh off his bones, he persevered, and at length reached the opposite bank. He essayed to taste of the stream, but it was sore bitter, and burned the roof of his mouth as he drank of it. Astonished at the properties of the river, Jonathan placed a small quantity of it in a glass vessel, and proceeded, with great pain, on his journey.
Hunger soon succeeded to thirst, and the solitary wanderer wist not how to assuage his bitter craving. As he wandered on, limping with pain, he suddenly cast his eyes on a fair and tempting tree, abounding in fruit of a rich and golden hue. Without one thought of thanks to God, Jonathan limped to the tree, and plucked eagerly of the fruit. The fair meal had hardly concluded, ere he was a leper from head to foot, the foul disease broke out over his body. Weeping and mourning for his misfortunes, he gathered of the hurtful fruit, and renewed his miserable wanderings.