"Are you Abdul Kassim," he said, "son of Kalif, the merchant who lived by the Golden Bridge?"
"I am he, Caliph," answered Abdul; "permit me to express my thanks for the palace with which you have endowed your most humble servant."
"I have heard much good of you," said the Caliph, when he had ordered his suite to retire; "and pray you to show me the magic jewels that help you to such power and wisdom."
"Of which jewels are you speaking?" asked Abdul Kassim, amazed.
"Well," smiled the Caliph, "which jewels should I mean but those you have inherited from your father?"
The young man stared. So the Caliph, too, took him for the possessor of the magic stones? Without reserve he confessed that, to avoid disputes, he had voluntarily retired and left the stones to his brothers.
"But," said the Caliph, "Micha ben Jahzeel, the Jew, saw the casket in your house!"
"The casket he may have seen," answered Abdul Kassim; "I begged it of my brothers in memory of my father."
The Caliph seemed still in doubt. He sent a slave to Abdul Kassim's palace to bring the casket. The messenger brought it, gave it to the Caliph, and retired. The Caliph opened the lid and looked inside. It was in truth empty! His gaze fell on the inscription:—
'Tis Allah's will that to him who cherishes
The precious gift that never perishes,
The East shall erstwhile all bow down,
So far the date on palm is grown.