The succeeding day found him still steadfast in his purpose, as the heavy hands of the master and his men seemed to have beaten all his grand notions out of him. He sold his little box to a jeweler for a high price, bought a house with the proceeds, and fitted up a workshop for his trade. When he had every thing arranged, and had also hung out a sign before his window with the inscription, "Labakan, Tailor," he sat down, and with the needle and thread he had found in the little box, began to mend his coat that had been so badly torn by his old master. He was called away from his work, and when he returned to take it up again, what a singular sight met his eyes! The needle was sewing busily away without any one to guide it, making such fine, delicate stitches, as even Labakan in his most artistic moments could not have equaled!
Surely even the commonest gift of a kind fairy is useful and of great value. Still another value was possessed by this present, namely: the ball of the thread was never exhausted, let the needle sew as fast as it would.
Labakan obtained many customers, and was soon the most famous tailor in all that region. He would cut out the clothes, and make the first stitch with the needle, and the needle would then instantly go on with the work, never pausing until the garment was done. Master Labakan soon had the whole town for customers, as his work was first-class, and his prices low; and only over one thing did the people of Alexandria shake their heads, namely: that he worked without journeymen, and with locked doors.
Thus did the saying of the little box, promising Fortune and Riches, come to pass. Fortune and riches, even though in moderate measure, attended the steps of the good tailor; and when he heard of the fame of the young sultan, Omar, that was on all lips; when he heard that this brave man was the pride and love of his people, and the terror of his enemies--then the false prince thought to himself: "It is after all better that I remained a tailor, for the quest of honor and fame is rather a dangerous business."
Thus lived Labakan, contented with his lot, respected by his fellow-citizens; and if the needle in the meanwhile has not lost its virtue, it still sews on with the endless thread of the kind fairy, Adolzaide.
At sunset the caravan started on, and soon reached Birket-el-Had, or Pilgrim's Fountain; from which it was only a three hours' journey to Cairo. The caravan was expected about this time, and therefore the merchants soon had the pleasure of seeing their friends coming from Cairo to meet them. They entered the city through the gate Bab-el-Falch, as it is considered a happy omen for those who come from Mecca to pass through this gate, as the Prophet went out of it.
On the market-place the three Turkish merchants took leave of the stranger Selim Baruch, and the Greek merchant Zaleukos, and went home with their friends. But Zaleukos showed the stranger a good caravansary, and invited him to take dinner with him. The stranger accepted the invitation, and promised to come as soon as he had made some changes in his dress.
The Greek made every preparation to entertain his guest, for whom he had acquired a strong liking on the journey; and when the dishes were all arranged in order, he sat down to await the coming of his guest.
At last he heard slow and heavy steps in the hall that led to his room. He arose to go and meet him and welcome him on the threshold; but no sooner had he opened the door, than he stepped back horrified, for that terrible man with the red mantle stepped towards him! He looked at him again; there was no illusion; the same tall, commanding figure, the mask through which the dark eyes shone, the red mantle with the gold embroidery, were only too closely associated with the most terrible hours of his life.
Conflicting emotions surged in Zaleukos's breast. He had long since become reconciled to this picture of memory, and had forgiven him who had injured him; yet the appearance of the man himself opened all his wounds afresh; all those painful hours when he had suffered almost the pangs of death,--the remorse that had poisoned his young life,--all this swept over his soul in the flight of a moment.