The caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of these words; “But may I,” said he, “rely on the assurance you give me of Ganem’s virtue?” “Yes,” replied Fetnah, “you may.  I would not for the world conceal the truth from you; and to prove to you that I am sincere, I must make a confession, which perhaps may displease you, but I beg pardon of your majesty beforehand.”  “Speak, daughter,” said Haroon al Rusheed, “I forgive you all, provided you conceal nothing from me.”  “Well, then,” replied Fetnah, “let me inform you, that Ganem’s respectful behaviour, joined to all the good offices he did me, gained him my esteem.  I went further yet:  you know the tyranny of love:  I felt some tender inclination rising in my breast.  He perceived it; but far from availing himself of my frailty, and notwithstanding the flame which consumed him, he still remained steady in his duty, and all that his passion could force from him were the words I have already repeated to your majesty, ‘That which belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.’”

This ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than the caliph; but it completely appeased that prince.  He commanded her to rise, and making her sit by him, “Tell me your story,” said he, “from the beginning to the end.”  She did so, with artless simplicity, passing slightly over what regarded Zobeide, and enlarging on the obligations she owed to Ganem; but above all, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by that means to make the caliph sensible that she had been under the necessity of remaining concealed in Ganem’s house, to deceive Zobeide.  She concluded with the young merchant’s escape, which she plainly told the caliph she had compelled him to, that he might avoid his indignation.

When she had done speaking, the caliph said to her, “I believe all you have told me; but why was it so long before you let me hear from you?  Was there any need of staying a whole month after my return, before you sent me word where you were?” “Commander of the true believers,” answered Fetnah, “Ganem went abroad so very seldom, that you need not wonder we were not the first that heard of your return.  Besides, Ganem, who took upon him to deliver the letter I wrote to Nouron Nihar, was a long time before he could find an opportunity of putting it into her own hands.”

“It is enough, Fetnah,” replied the caliph; “I acknowledge my fault, and would willingly make amends for it, by heaping favours on the young merchant of Damascus.  Consider, therefore, what I can do for him.  Ask what you think fit, and I will grant it.”  Hereupon the favourite fell down at the caliph’s feet, with her face to the ground; and rising again, said, “Commander of the true believers, after returning your majesty thanks for Ganem, I most humbly entreat you to cause it to be published throughout your do minions, that you pardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and that he may safely come to you.”  “I must do more,”