The African magician, who was thus twice foiled in his endeavour to ruin Aladdin, had a younger brother, who was as skilful a magician as himself, and exceeded him in wickedness and hatred of mankind.  By mutual agreement they communicated with each other once a year, however widely separate might be their place of residence from each other.  The younger brother not having received as usual his annual communication, prepared to take a horoscope and ascertain his brother’s proceedings.  He, as well as his brother, always carried a geomantic square instrument about him; he prepared the sand, cast the points, and drew the figures.  On examining the planetary crystal, he found that his brother was no longer living, but had been poisoned; and by another observation, that he was in the capital of the kingdom of China; also, that the person who had poisoned him was of mean birth, though married to a princess, a sultan’s daughter.

When the magician had informed himself of his brother’s fate, he resolved immediately to revenge his death, and at once departed for China; where, after crossing plains, rivers, mountains, deserts, and a long tract of country without delay, he arrived after incredible fatigues.  When he came to the capital of China, he took a lodging at a khan.  His magic art soon revealed to him that Aladdin was the person who had been the cause of the death of his brother.  He had heard, too, all the persons of repute in the city talking of a woman called Fatima, who was retired from the world, and of the miracles she wrought.  As he fancied that this woman might be serviceable to him in the project he had conceived, he made more minute inquiries, and requested to be informed more particularly who that holy woman was, and what sort of miracles she performed.

“What!” said the person whom he addressed, “have you never seen or heard of her?  She is the admiration of the whole town, for her fasting, her austerities, and her exemplary life.  Except Mondays and Fridays, she never stirs out of her little cell; and on those days on which she comes into the town she does an infinite deal of good; for there is not a person who is diseased but she puts her hand on them and cures them.”

Having ascertained the place where the hermitage of this holy woman was, the magician went at night, and, plunging a poniard into her heart, killed this good woman.  In the morning he dyed his face of the same hue as hers, and arraying himself in her garb, taking her veil, the large necklace she wore round her waist, and her stick, went straight to the palace of Aladdin.