While the prince stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat saluted the forty gray-headed men.  “Devout adorers of fire,” said he to them, “this is a happy day for us; where is Gazban? call him.”

He spake these words aloud, when a negro who waited at the lower end of the hall immediately came up to him.  This black was Gazban, who, as soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what purpose he was called.  He rushed upon him immediately, threw him down, and bound his hands with wonderful activity.  When he had done, “Carry him down,” said the old man, “and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to give him every day a severe bastinado, with only a loaf morning and night for his subsistence; this is enough to keep him alive till the next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain, where he shall be offered up an acceptable sacrifice to our divinity.”

As soon as the old man had given the cruel order, Gazban hurried prince Assad under the hall, through several doors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps; there he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness, fastened to his feet.  When he had done, he went to give the old man’s daughters notice:  but their father had before sent for them, and given them their instructions himself:  “Daughters,” said he to them, “go down and give the Mussulmaun I just now brought in the bastinado:  do not spare him; you cannot better shew your zeal for the worship of the fire.”

Bostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to the faithful, received this order with joy.  They descended into the dungeon that instant, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till the blood issued out of his wounds and he was almost dead.  After this cruel treatment, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water by him, and retired.

Assad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he revived, he burst out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery.  His comfort however was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother.

Amgiad waited for his brother till evening with impatience; as two, three, or four of the clock in the morning arrived, and Assad did not return, he was in despair.  He spent the night in extreme uneasiness; and as soon as it was day went to the city, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmauns.  He accosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place.  He was told it was the city of the Magicians, so called from the great number of magicians, who adored the fire; and that it contained but few Mussulmauns.  Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle of Ebene?  He was answered, four months’ voyage by sea, and a year’s journey by land.  The man he talked to left him hastily, having satisfied him as to these two questions.

Amgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene with his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they had reached this city in so short a time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the way across the mountain was a much shorter one, but not frequented because of its difficulty.