Arriving before the palace, Bright-Wits dismounted, and advanced, accompanied only by Ablano.  As they neared the magnificent edifice they descried, seated upon a low porch, the figure of a fat and oily looking old man, wearing on his head a huge turban topped with a golden crown which was surmounted by a ruby large as a peacock’s egg.  The stranger was puffing at his hookah and listening with disdain to the words of a young maiden of marvellous beauty; who vainly essayed to call his attention to the approach of the prince and Ablano.  To the right of the porch was suspended a great Mankalah rug made in the pattern of a large checker board; but which on closer inspection appeared to be imperfectly put together, as several of the squares were missing.

Ablano, approaching the stranger, made obeisance and said, “Know, thou Illustrious One, that we are two travellers who, having heard of the glory of your kingdom, seek your permission to dwell therein for a brief space, that going hence to our own land, we may bring to our people the tale of your splendour and greatness.”

The fat stranger, turning his beady black eyes on Ablano, made answer in surly fashion.  “Think you that this palace is naught but a tavern for the entertainment of stray mendicants?”

He would have continued had not Bright-Wits interrupted him, angrily exclaiming, “Know, thou surly hind, that I am Bright-Wits, Prince of Mogadore, and that yonder holy man, who honours me in being my guide and father as I travel in search of knowledge and adventure, is Ablano the Brahman, whose virtues are as many as the sands in the great desert of Gobi, and the fame of whose wisdom reaches all men as the rays of the sun at noon.”

Now the fat stranger, alarmed by the fierce outburst of the prince, scrambled hastily to his feet, and with profuse apologies welcomed the travellers and bade them recline upon the porch while he summoned attendants and refreshments.  When their ungracious host had retired, the damsel turned upon Bright-Wits a face which outshone the sun in its splendour, and thus addressed him.

“Know, O prince, that I am the Princess Azalia, and that this great palace, and the city and country for ten days’ journey in every direction, formed the kingdom of my father the Great Onalba, Rajah of Parrabang.  Here my days passed as in Paradise, until one year ago, when my loved parent suddenly disappeared.  At first no alarm was felt, for he was wondrous wise, and fond of secluding himself from men that he might study in peace and quietness.  When, however, a month passing saw not his return, the Vizier Garrofat, he who was but now upon the porch, nicknamed the ‘Old Woman,’ because of his beardless face, called the Council of Emirs together; whereupon it was solemnly decreed that my beloved father had departed from this life.  Now, I being a maid, and moreover barely sixteen, could not govern in his stead, and Garrofat had himself declared Regent until I should have arrived at the age of eighteen years, by virtue of a decree which he claimed to have received from the Rajah, my father.  Now, moreover, this decree gave Garrofat the right to accept as a husband for me any suitor who succeeded in performing certain tasks, first of which was the repairing of the great Mankalah rug hanging here beside you.