After a time, when they could restrain their grief, they prepared her body and laid it in the tomb which she, with sad prophecy, had caused to be [[88]]builded. This done, these good people did not mend their grief, but continued to mourn the gracious presence which had been lent to them for a little while.
Let us leave them now, and return to the plotting mother in the prince’s palace.
When this evil-minded person learned, through inquiries which she cautiously set on foot, that the one whom she had wronged was dead, it became unto her as if all the world were her own. And, without seeming to realize that Allah knew of the evil which she had committed, she even dared attribute her fortune to him! “O, praise be to Allah!” she cried. “At last we are freed from fear!”
Later on, the prince heard—through some visitors at the court—such part of the dead maiden’s history as was known to the world: that about such a time she had been found in great distress by the muleteer, whose kind heart had prompted him to take her to his own home, where she had become as a daughter in the house. And that immediately upon her coming, the Fates had blessed the old man and his wife, until they had houses and lands, men and women servants. But after all this had come to them, and when life seemed complete, the blackest [[89]]of grief had overshadowed them in the death of their adopted child.
This tale wrought deeply upon the mind of the prince. He sighed in his soul and became very sad. After that some strange fantasy possessed him. He could no longer endure the presence of the girl who had come to dwell in his palace.
One day, when his soul was more than usually sad, together with his companions, he went out to wander upon the mountains. After several days they came to the foot of one that was higher than the others in the range. It was evening. Wearied with this aimless pacing hither and thither, they sat down to rest. All at once a faint, faint voice reached the ear of the prince. And the words that it spoke were these: “The Beauty who did not have her desire! The Beauty who did not have her desire!”
Without a moment’s pause to consider whether it might not be a lure into danger, the prince, who was brave of heart, arose with his companions and hastened to the summit of the mountain. There he came upon a tomb of shim-shirak stone, so brilliant as to dazzle the eyes of a beholder. And its doors, opening of themselves, both inward and outward, were repeating softly the words that had arrested his attention. [[90]]
All this aroused great wonder in the minds of the prince and his companions. They questioned concerning the building of so magnificent a burial place, and whether any body had been placed therein. After a time, as was quite natural, a sad curiosity prompted the prince, himself, to enter.
Only a golden casket, with closed lid, met his gaze. Presently he approached, and, as the lid was unfastened, raised it and discovered, within, a young woman who was like the full moon for beauty; and beside her a child which reflected her brightness. The child nestled against the arm of its mother.
At this sight the prince—who had been prepared for any marvelous unfolding—became even more tender of heart. His eyes filled with tears, and he gave thanks for, at least, the preservation of the infant.