One evening Haroun Alraschid sat in a splendid apartment of his palace in Bagdad. The evening meal was finished, and the slaves had carried away the magnificent service of gold plate on which it had been served. The Caliph was gloomy and ill-humoured, and the officers and attendants in waiting silent, vigilant, and not unapprehensive; for when the brow of the monarch was clouded none could tell when the storm might burst forth, nor whom the lightning of his wrath might strike. Before long, however, and much to their relief, Giafer was sent for, and the Caliph, rising and signing his officers to leave him, wandered out alone into the garden of his palace.

Here Giafer on his arrival found him. He was sitting moodily listening to a concert of vocal music performed by some of the ladies of his harem, who were posted out of sight and at some little distance in a small grove. Just as Giafer entered the garden the Caliph clapped his hands and said to a slave who ran to him, “Go, tell the singers to keep silence, for I am in no humour to listen to them.” Then, perceiving the Grand Vizier, he said to him, “Giafer, I have sent for thee because I am restless and pleased with nothing this evening; suggest, therefore, what I shall do.”

Then Giafer replied: “Prince of the Faithful, if you are tired of your palace and of the gardens and the singing of your women, and if you care not to view the dancers” the Caliph shook his head “nor to listen to the tales or the poems of Abu ’Atahiyeh ”

“Not this evening, though they are good,” said Haroun.

“Then what say you to our sallying forth disguised into Bagdad,” continued Giafer, “that we may observe what goes forward, and perchance meet with some adventure that may amuse you?”

“That is what I will do,” said Haroun, brightening up at the suggestion; “come, Giafer, let us put on the garb of merchants and go out.”

In a short time Haroun and Giafer sallied forth, with the faithful Mesrur following, also in disguise, not far behind them. They wandered through the bazaars until they had seen a great part of Bagdad; but they met with no adventure and saw nothing particularly strange or noteworthy throughout all their ramble. The Caliph, who had at first been much more cheerful, began at length to be tired with the walk, and again in a somewhat ill-humour.

Giafer, noticing this, proposed that they should take a short cut through the lower and meaner parts of the town, and so return to the palace.

As with this intent they passed the end of a narrow and steep street leading up from the river, they observed a man whose figure and condition at once arrested the Caliph’s attention. He was a tall and handsome man with the upright, dignified bearing of a soldier; he had regular features, a large hooked nose, and a long black moustache now turning somewhat grey. His clothes were very old and ragged; over his left shoulder he carried a net, and in his right hand a bag evidently containing a few fish. He was obviously a fisherman just returning home from his work on the river’s bank; but what particularly attracted the Caliph’s attention was the fact that the man was blind. In his left hand he carried a stick with which he touched sometimes the path and sometimes the walls of the houses as he passed along, as though to assure himself of his position. And though he was thus evidently blind, yet he walked forward, not timidly or slowly, but boldly and steadily, as if he were very well acquainted with his route.

The Caliph at once approached him and entered into conversation. He asked him whether he, being blind, caught the fish himself, or whether he was aided by some one else; whether he had good fortune and caught much, and how many fish he now had in his bag.

To these inquiries the man replied that, although blind, yet he managed to fish very well, and usually had good fortune in the number of fish that he caught, but that on this day he had been unlucky, and had only five fish in his bag. Of these he said he should sell three, and two he should cook for the supper of himself and his brother.

“And what is the occupation of your brother?” asked the Caliph.

“He, alas!” said the man, “is of no occupation; his back is injured so that he cannot move from his bed.”

“And you fish for the support of both?” said Haroun.

“Of course,” replied the man, with grave simplicity.

“Fisherman,” said the Caliph, “I will buy your three fish, and, since I am tired, we will come, I and my friend who is with me, and you shall cook all the five fish, and we will sup together.”

“Sir,” said the fisherman, “my poor hovel is not fitted to receive guests; yet, if you are content to take things in the rough as you will find them, come and be welcome.”

“Fisherman,” said Haroun, “soldiers should be able to accommodate themselves to circumstances, and I am a soldier, as I judge that you also have been.”

“Commander,” said the fisherman, “I have, as you suppose, served the Caliph, whom may Allah preserve and exalt, and in his service I lost my sight.”

“Comrade,” said Haroun, “when we have eaten your fish, and you have rested, you shall relate to us the story of your life, which I doubt not contains many stirring and noteworthy incidents.”

As he was saying this they came to a very mean cottage in the narrow street, or rather lane, through which they were passing, and the old fisherman, entering, beckoned them with a sort of dignified politeness to follow him.

In the cottage, which was lit by the smoky flame of a single small lamp, they found, lying in a corner of the room on some rags, another tall, athletic-looking man, who appeared in every respect a very twin brother of their acquaintance the fisherman, except as regards the eyes, which were black, bright, and piercing.

“Mohammed,” said the fisherman, addressing his brother, “I bring with me two gentlemen I have met with; they have bought three of the five fish I have caught, and they will join us in our supper. I smell the loaves that they are baked upon the hearth, and very quickly I will prepare and cook the fish.”

“Gentlemen,” said he, folding an old and tattered cloak and laying it on the floor, “there is no other divan I can offer you, therefore pray be seated upon this cloak, and I will hasten to make ready your fish.”

The Caliph and Giafer, having seated themselves, conversed with Mohammed, who appeared to them, from the expression of his features, to be suffering much pain.

He was unable, he told them, to rise, owing to an injury to his back, and his brother Suleiman, although blind, not only supported them both by fishing, but cooked their food and attended to all necessary household duties.

The Caliph was much touched and interested by these two fine old fellows, their pitiable plight, their uncomplaining cheerfulness under such misfortunes, and their brotherly affection.

“Suleiman,” he said, “has promised after supper to relate to me your history; and I desire to hear it,” he added, “not simply from motives of curiosity, but because I hope to be able to help you both and possibly to set right any wrongs or injustice from which you may have suffered.”

The fish and hot cakes Haroun enjoyed more than all the sumptuous repasts which were prepared for him at his palace, novelty and fatigue giving a whet to his appetite. And these being consumed and the frugal meal finished, he reminded Suleiman of his desire to learn the particulars of his history.

Suleiman, saying that there was little to tell, but that he was quite willing to tell that little, began as follows:

THE HISTORY OF THE BLIND FISHERMAN AND HIS BROTHER

“As poor as we now are,” said Suleiman, “our father was an officer much trusted by El Hadi, the late Caliph.”

At this name Haroun looked very black, for El Hadi had desired to set Haroun aside in favour of his own son Jaafer. However, the blind fisherman perceived nothing of this, but continued

“Our father had three sons myself, the eldest, and Mohammed, my brother here present, and by another wife, Moussa, his youngest boy, and, as often happens, his favourite. My father was but seldom in Bagdad, being almost constantly engaged abroad in one foreign war or another. Very early in life Mohammed and I accompanied him, and were entrusted with important posts under him in the armies he commanded.

“Not to weary you with a long catalogue of our battles, I tell you at once that about five years ago our father was killed in a very hotly contested fight, in which, just when our men were giving way before a furious charge of the enemy’s cavalry, our father rallied them and led them in person against the foe, thereby securing victory for us, but falling himself in the very charge which secured it.”

“Gallant man!” exclaimed the Caliph. “And what did El Hadi do for the sons?” Seeing that Suleiman did not answer “Nothing!” he muttered, “and Haroun has never known of the matter.”

“This battle,” continued Suleiman, “having broken the power of the enemy, and the war being at an end, Mohammed and I returned to Bagdad, intending to share the property left by our father between ourselves and Moussa, our younger brother, in three parts or equal shares, as we had understood our father to desire.

“But on our return we found that Moussa, who holds the position of a Cadi, or judge, had already taken possession of the whole of the property, and he altogether refused to share it in any way with us, alleging that our father had promised to leave him all that he had.

“This assertion we knew to be false. And El Hadi having died just at that time, and the new Caliph being supposed to mislike both him and his adherents, we applied to Ali ibn Moulk, the Governor of Bagdad, asking him to consider our case and enforce a just division of our inheritance. But Ali, though he took whatever presents we could afford to give him, did nothing, having no doubt received from Moussa still handsomer presents than it was in our power to afford.

“Seeing that our cause in no way advanced, we, who had always been used to an active life, soon got tired of waiting in idleness the good pleasure of the Governor, and therefore applied for and obtained commands in an army sent by the new Caliph against a province that had revolted.

“For three years we were employed in distant expeditions, and at length, at the end of that time, when storming a fortress held by a body of insurgents, a splinter entering one of my eyes destroyed the sight of it, and the inflammation extending from it not long after destroyed the sight of the other, rendering me totally blind; while Mohammed, poor fellow, still more unfortunate, was hurled backwards from the walls of the same fortress and injured his back so severely, that he has been unable to get about, and has suffered constant pain ever since.

“When we got back to Bagdad from this most unlucky campaign, our money being almost exhausted, I called again upon Moussa, and, relating to him what had befallen us, I asked him once more to make a fair and equitable division of the inheritance with us. But he once more refused to do so, repeated his assertion that all the property had been left to him, offered me a hundred dinars, which I angrily refused, and sent a slave to guide me, as he said, into the quarter of the town where I was then living. He evidently made a sign to the slave whom he sent with me, for I quickly perceived that he was conducting me, not towards that part of the town in which my caravanserai was situated, but along the steep streets leading down to the river. When we got on to the bank of the stream, and almost at the water’s edge, he said he must return to his master, telling me to continue straight forward, and that I should find the road all clear. Greatly incensed at the perfidy of this villainous slave, I suddenly seized him and flung him into the river before me.

“I was about to retrace my steps, when a voice near to me exclaimed: ’Halloo! some one has cast himself into the river, and my nets will be destroyed.’

“‘Cannot you see,’ I said, ‘that I threw that scoundrel into the river?’

“‘Nay,’ said the voice, ‘I cannot see, for I am blind.’

“‘Allah be merciful to us!’ I cried. ‘Art thou also blind?’ And I told him my history as you have heard it, and why I had flung the slave into the water. By the way, what became of the fellow I know not he was probably carried away by the stream, for I heard no more of him.

“Then I asked the blind man what it was that he had said of his nets being broken.

“He answered, ’I am a fisherman, and I doubt not but the rascal will have destroyed some of my nets, but never mind that, so long as he got his deserts.’

“‘What! can a man that is blind be a fisherman?’ I exclaimed.

“‘Certainly,’ he replied; ’I have caught fish for my living this ten years, and I will teach you to fish, if you like.’

“I thanked him, and gratefully accepted his offer.”

“And thus it came to pass,” said Suleiman to Haroun and Giafer, “that I became a fisherman, and by this means have been enabled to maintain both Mohammed and myself for the last two years.”

The emotions experienced by the Caliph and the Grand Vizier as they listened to Suleiman’s narrative were not altogether the same.

Haroun was so infuriated when he heard of the hard-hearted iniquity of the Cadi, and the taking of bribes and refusal of justice by Ali ibn Moulk, the Governor of Bagdad, that he could scarcely restrain himself from summoning Mesrur and sending at once for their heads.

On the other hand, Giafer listened to the accusations against the Governor of Bagdad, who was a personal friend of his own, with the greatest consternation. Therefore, being anxious at any rate to gain time, Giafer, at the end of Suleiman’s discourse, whispered to the Caliph, earnestly entreating him to preserve his incognito, and to suspend his decision at least for the present.

When they came out of the fisherman’s cottage, having paid him for the fish, and promised to communicate with him again shortly, Giafer urged upon the Caliph the injustice of condemning the Governor of Bagdad, without giving him the opportunity to reply to the charge brought against him by Suleiman.

“Giafer,” said the Caliph, “I hear what you say, and I grant your request. Ali ibn Moulk shall have the opportunity provided for him, to clear himself from this charge in the best possible way, viz., by actually refusing to take a bribe, and by actually executing justice on Moussa the Cadi. I will myself provide him with that opportunity. But look you, the Governor of Bagdad is your friend, I know; you gave him his office, did you not? and now you are pleading his cause. Very good so far, but see that no rumour of this night’s story reaches his ears, neither by a message, nor by a little bird, nor even by a dream; for if he hear of it I will take off your head also, by Allah I will, by Allah I will, by Allah I will; therefore look to yourself, my Giafer.”

When the Grand Vizier heard this burst of rage, his heart sank within him. He had undoubtedly intended to convey a friendly warning to Ali, but he felt now that it would be dangerous and useless, and he was completely convinced that Ali’s fate was sealed.

Early next morning the Caliph sent for the Grand Vizier, and said to him

“Giafer, go dress yourself as you were dressed last night, take a hundred pieces of gold with you and give them to Suleiman, and tell him to repair immediately to the Governor of Bagdad, and demand from him justice in the matter of his inheritance. And mind, not one word more nor less.”

Giafer touched his head in token of implicit obedience to the commands of the Caliph, and going at once, carried to Suleiman the hundred pieces of gold, and the message that he should immediately make another application to the Governor of Bagdad.

Suleiman was very unwilling to go to the Governor, saying, that to seek for justice in that quarter was but like fishing in a gutter where a man could catch nothing, but must lose his time and his bait. “However,” he concluded, “since your friend sends me this money, as you say for no other purpose, I will carry it to the Governor and bestow it as he desires.”

Directly after the Caliph had despatched the Grand Vizier to Suleiman, he called an officer and sent him with a message to the Governor of Bagdad, instructing the officer to observe carefully any applications which might be made to the Governor for justice, and report the particulars on his return.

That evening Haroun again disguised himself, and went, with Giafer and Mesrur in attendance as before, to visit Suleiman and Mohammed.

On reaching the cottage he demanded of Suleiman how he had fared in his application to the Governor.

“At first,” said Suleiman, “he received me very roughly, but when I produced the gold he became more civil, and promised to see what he could do for me. As he has told me the same on each previous occasion, I do not build many hopes on that promise,” said Suleiman, smiling. “But he was very urgent to find out where I had obtained the money I gave him, and when I told him that a gentleman whom I had met had lent me the money, he said

“’It is well, get from him another hundred, and your case may be managed.’

“But, sir,” said Suleiman to the Caliph, “I will take no further coin from you, for the rapacity of the Governor is like a bottomless pit that would swallow all that you have.”

What Suleiman told him agreed perfectly with the report of the officer whom Haroun had sent to Ali that morning.

“Suleiman,” said the Caliph, “I believe you are right; moreover, I think I can forward your suit better than by sending any more gold pieces to Ali. To-morrow morning one of my slaves will bring you a bundle of clothes: dress yourself in them, and in the evening come boldly to the house of the Governor, and bring with you the ring I now place upon your finger. When you arrive give the ring to one of the Governor’s officers with this message: The bearer of this ring demands an audience of the owner of it. Meanwhile here are ten pieces of gold to relieve you of the necessity of going out fishing till I see you again.”

Suleiman thanked Haroun warmly for his generosity and kindness, and the Caliph and Giafer returned to the palace.

The following morning the Caliph sent an officer to the Governor of Bagdad with a message informing him that Haroun would sup with him that evening. Delighted with such a mark of royal favour and condescension, Ali ibn Moulk prepared a most sumptuous entertainment; he had a great tent erected in the garden of his palace, and singing women and dancing girls in readiness to amuse his august guest.

In the evening Haroun Alraschid arrived in state at the palace of the Governor, and found the gardens illuminated with thousands of small lights, and every conceivable preparation made to receive him.

Seated on a splendid divan in the great tent in the garden, the Caliph listened sometimes to the songs of a number of the best singers of Bagdad, who were stationed a short distance away and out of sight, and conversing sometimes with the Grand Vizier, the Governor of Bagdad, and other great officials who were with him in the tent. After he had been seated thus for some time, an officer of the Governor’s household came into the tent and said a few words to him in an undertone.

“What is that?” demanded the Caliph. “Officer,” said he, “do you not know that where I am present no message can be brought except to me?”

The officer bowed, and said at once, “A man in the uniform of an officer of the guard gave me this ring and bade me bring it in and say, ’The bearer of the ring is here, and demands an audience of the owner of it.’”

The Caliph asked for the ring; then putting it on his finger, he said, “The ring is mine, admit the man who brought it.”

Amidst the silence of all, the officer returned immediately with Suleiman leaning on his arm, the tall, dignified form of the old soldier showing to great advantage in the splendid uniform in which he was now attired.

“Suleiman,” said the Caliph, as he entered, “you are welcome.”

“Ah,” said Suleiman, “my friend, you are here; and you will speak to my lord the Governor on my behalf.”

All present were so much astonished to hear this old blind officer addressing the Caliph in that frank, bold way as “my friend,” that they knew not what to say.

The Caliph looked at the Governor of Bagdad, who was speechless with terror, and said fiercely, “You hear this man!”

The officer on whose arm Suleiman was leaning whispered to him hurriedly, “It is the Caliph; it is Haroun himself.”

“Ah,” said Suleiman, aloud, “then my cause is safe; I need say no more.”

“Ali ibn Moulk,” continued the Caliph, in a voice thick with passion, “Governor of Bagdad, into your hands has been committed the task of doing justice in this city. What then shall be done to him who denies justice and who takes bribes; who takes the last coin from the poor and the oppressed, and yet gives no heed to their petitions for redress? Allah pay me for it if I permit such iniquity.” Then turning to Mesrur, who stood behind him, he said, “Take him out.”

Mesrur with his assistants immediately seized Ali, and, taking him out into the garden, severed his head from his shoulders with one blow of his sword.

When the Governor of Bagdad had been taken out of the tent, the Caliph said, “Bring in now Moussa the Cadi.”

Moussa, who had during the evening been arrested by order of the Caliph, and had been brought to the palace of the Governor of Bagdad, was now brought in under guard.

Haroun ordered the Cadi at once to make over formally the whole of his property to his two brothers, Suleiman and Mohammed, the Caliph adding with his usual grim humour, “As you are a man of the law, it is fit that you do justice in a legal way.” And then added, addressing Mesrur, who had just entered, “And now impale him.”

Mesrur immediately advanced towards the Cadi to take him out and execute the doom pronounced by the Caliph.

But Suleiman said, “He is my brother, the son of my father; let me pray you at least to spare his life.”

Then the Caliph said, “For thy sake, Suleiman, I spare him; let him be sent to the army in the field and enrolled as a common soldier. Thus, at any rate,” he added, “he may earn an honest living.”

“Emir,” said the Caliph to Suleiman, in conclusion, “for such is your rank henceforth, your brother Mohammed has been conveyed by my order in a litter to your house, and there you will find him duly provided for. And I desire that you yourself attend me at the palace three times a week at least, that I may have the benefit of your conversation and counsel.”

The blind fisherman, now a rich Emir and a prime favourite with the Caliph, saluted his sovereign and was silent.