"Then," thundered the Caliph, "you swore falsely, Kalum Bek. What was done to Said?"
"I sent him to a desert island," stammered the magistrate.
"Oh, Said, my son, my son!" wept the unhappy father.
"Stand forth, Said," said the Caliph.
Confronted by this apparition, Kalum and the justice flung themselves on their knees, crying, "Mercy! mercy!"
"Did you have mercy on the misfortunes of this unhappy boy? You, my best of judges, shall retire to a desert island, so that you may have an opportunity of studying justice. But, Kalum Bek, what am I to say to you? You shall pay Said for all the time he has served you, and," as Kalum was beginning to congratulate himself on coming so well out of the business, "for the perjury you shall receive a hundred strokes on the soles of your feet. Take the men away and carry out their sentence."
The wretched beings were led away, and the Caliph took Said and his father into another apartment. Here their conversation was interrupted by the yells of Kalum, who was undergoing punishment in the court outside. The Caliph invited Benezar to bring his goods and settle in Bagdad. He gladly consented, and Said spent his life in the palace built for him by the grateful Caliph—indeed, the proverb ran in Bagdad, "May I be as good and fortunate as Said, the son of Benezar."