Night was approaching, and Behram, who did not wish to afford Margiana an opportunity of executing her menaces, had already weighed anchor, not a little vexed at having lost Assad, and being thus frustrated in his hope of sacrificing his victim. He endeavoured, however, to console himself with the reflection that the storm had ceased, and that a land-breeze favored his departure. As soon as he had got out of the harbour with the assistance of his boat, before he drew it up into the ship, “My lads,” said he to the sailors who were in it, “Stay a little and don’t come up yet; I am going to give you the casks to fetch water, and I will wait for you just off the shore.” The sailors, who did not know where they should be able to procure any, excused themselves from going; but Behram, while he was speaking with the queen in the garden, had remarked the fountain: “Go ashore at the garden of the palace,” said he, “get over the wall, which is not breast high, and you will find plenty of water in the bason that is in the middle of the garden.”
The sailors went on shore in the place described to them by Behram, and each having taken a cask on his shoulders, they easily got over the wall. As they approached the bason, they perceived a man lying asleep on the bank; and when they drew nearer they discovered him to be Assad. They divided into two parties; and whilst one set was filling the casks as quietly, and with the greatest dispatch possible, the other had surrounded Assad, and watched to secure him in case he should wake. He did not, however, disturb them, and when the casks were filled, and hoisted on the shoulders of those who were to carry them, the others seized him and took him away before he had time to recollect himself; they conveyed him over the wall, put him in the boat along with their casks, and rowed with all their strength to the ship. When they had nearly reached it, they cried out, with repeated bursts of joy, “Captain, order your hautboys and your drums, we bring you back your slave.”
Behram, who could not conceive how his seamen had been able to find and retake Assad, and who could not discern him in the boat, owing to the darkness of the night, waited with impatience for their coming on board to inquire what they meant; but when he saw the prince before him, he could not contain himself for joy; and without staying to be informed how they had managed to succeed in so valuable a capture, he put on his irons again, and ordering his boat to be hauled up as quickly as possible, he bent his course full sail towards the mountain of fire.
Margiana, in the mean time, was in the greatest alarm; she did not feel uneasy at first, when she perceived the absence of prince Assad, as she did not doubt he would soon return, she waited patiently for him; but finding that after a considerable time had elapsed, he did not make his appearance, she began to be very uneasy. She commanded her women to search for him, which they did, but to no purpose, and they could bring her no intelligence of him. Night came on, and she had him sought for with lights, but still as ineffectually.
In the state of impatience and alarm which Margiana experienced, she went herself to look for the prince by the light of flambeaux, and as she observed that the garden gate was open, she went in with her women, supposing he might be there. Passing near the fountain, she observed a slipper on the bank, which, when examined, she, as well as her women, knew to be one of those worn by the prince. This circumstance, added to the quantity of water spilt on the edge of the bason, led her to conclude that Behram might have taken him away by force. She immediately sent to inquire if his ship was still in the harbour; and as she was informed that he had sailed just before the night came on, that he had stopped for some time off the shore, and that his boat had been to fetch water from her garden, she instantly dispatched a messenger to the commander of ten ships of war, which were always kept in port fully equipped and ready to sail on the shortest notice, to acquaint him, that she intended to embark the following day, about an hour after sun-rise.
The commander was diligent in obeying her orders; she assembled the captains and other officers, the sailors and soldiers; and every thing was ready by the appointed hour. She embarked, and when her squadron got out to sea and was in full sail, she declared her intention to the commander, “You must use all expedition,” said she, “and pursue the merchant vessel which sailed from the harbour yesterday evening. I give it up as your prize, if you take it; but if you do not succeed, your life shall be the forfeit.”
The ten ships chased Behram’s vessel for two whole days, without being able to get within sight of it. On the third they discovered it at break of day; and by noon they had surrounded it so that it could not escape. The cruel Behram had no sooner perceived the ten vessels than he concluded it must be the squadron of queen Margiana in pursuit of him, and he immediately inflicted the bastinado on prince Assad; for he had continued that practice daily, from the time he had left the city of the Magi; and he now repeated his chastisement with more violence than usual. He was extremely embarrassed, when he found he was on the point of being surrounded on all sides. If he kept Assad, he proved himself culpable. If he deprived him of life, he was fearful that some mark might remain to discover his guilt. He had him unchained, and the prince was then made to go up from the hold of the ship, where he was confined, and appear before him. “It is thou,” said he, “who art the cause of our being pursued,” and, on saying this, he threw him into the sea.
Prince Assad could swim very well, and made use of his hands and feet with so much success, that, assisted by the waves, which bore him towards the shore, he had sufficient strength to hold out till he reached land. When he was in safety, the first thing he did was to return thanks to God for having delivered him from so great a peril, and again favoured his escape from the hands of the idolaters of fire. He then undressed himself, and having wrung the water from his clothes, he spread them on a rock to dry. This was soon effected, as well from the heat of the sun, as from that of the rock, which had received considerable warmth from the power of its rays.
He laid down for some time, deploring his miserable fate, ignorant of the country in which he was, and uncertain which way to go. He then took up his clothes, put them on, and without leaving the coast he began to proceed, and continued walking till he came to a road, which he followed. He pursued this path or road, for ten days, through a country that seemed to be without inhabitants: and in which he found nothing but wild fruits, and a few plants along the banks of the rivulets, on which he lived. He at last arrived at a town, which he immediately knew to be the city of the Magi, where he had been so ill used, and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier. At this he was much rejoiced; but was determined to address himself to no one, whom he knew to be a worshipper of fire, but only to speak to mussulmen; for he remembered to have remarked a few of the latter as he came into the city the first time. As it was late, and he knew very well that all the shops were shut up, and that few people were abroad at that hour, he resolved to go into a burial-place, which was close to the town, and pass the night there, as there were many tombs in it that were built like mausoleums. In looking about he discovered one, of which the door was open. He went in, and determined to remain there.
We will now return to the vessel of Behram. It was not a great while after he had thrown Assad into the sea, before it was surrounded on all sides by the fleet of Margiana. He was first boarded by the ship in which the queen herself was; and as he was not able to make any resistance, Behram at her approach hauled down his sails as a mark of having surrendered.