Mazin’s mother early in the morning returning to her house found the door open, her son missing, and the rooms ransacked of all her valuables.  She gave a loud shriek, tore her hair, beat her bosom, and threw herself on the ground, crying out for her son, who she thought must have been murdered by the treacherous magician, against whose professions she had warned him to be cautious, till the sight of the transmuted gold had deceived her, as well as the unfortunate victim of his accursed arts.  Some neighbours hearing her lamentations rushed in, lifted her from the ground, and inquired the cause of her distress; which, when informed of, they endeavoured to alleviate by every consolation in their power, but in vain:  the afflicted old lady was not to be comforted.  She commanded a tombstone to be raised in the court-yard, over which she sat night and day bewailing her son, taking scarcely food sufficient to preserve her miserable existence.

The infidel Hijjemmee, who was a wicked magician and a worshipper of fire, by name Bharam, hated the true believers, one of whom annually for several years past he had inveigled by his offers of instructing in the science of transmuting metals into his power; and after making him subservient to his purposes in procuring the ingredients necessary for his art, had treacherously put him to death, lest the secret should be divulged:  such was now his intention towards the unfortunate Mazin.

On the evening of the second day after the sailing of the vessel, Bharam thought proper to awaken his victim to a sense of his misery.  He opened the chest, which had been placed in his cabin, and poured a certain liquid down the throat of Mazin, who instantly sneezed several times; then opening his eyes, gazed for some minutes wildly around him.  At length, seeing the magician, observing the sea, and feeling the motion of the ship, his mind surmised to him the misfortune which had happened; and he guessed his having fallen into the snares of the treacherous Bharam, against which his mother had warned him, but in vain.  Still, being a virtuous Mussulmaun, he would not complain against the decrees of Heaven; and instead of lamentation uttered the following verse of the sacred Koran:  “There is no support or refuge but from the Almighty, whose we are, and to whom we must return.  Deal gently with me, O my God, in the dictates of thy omnipotence; and make me resigned under thy chastening, O Lord of all being.”

Having finished the above prayer, Mazin turning humbly towards his accursed betrayer, said in a supplicating tone, “What hast thou done, my father? didst thou not promise me enjoyment and pleasure?” The magician, after striking him, with a scowling and malignant sneer, exclaimed, “Thou dog! son of a dog! my pleasure is in thy destruction.  Nine and thirty such ill-devoted wretches as thyself have I already sacrificed, and thou shalt make the fortieth victim to my enjoyment, unless thou wilt abjure thy