"I am a genius," he said, "the son of the daughter of Eblis, prince of
the genii. Is not this hatchet yours, and these shoes?" Without
waiting for an answer--which, indeed, I could hardly have given him, so
great was my fright--he seized hold of me, and darted up into the air
with the quickness of lightning, and then, with equal swiftness,
dropped down towards the earth. When he touched the ground, he rapped
it with his foot; it opened, and we found ourselves in the enchanted
palace, in the presence of the beautiful princess of the Ebony Isle.
But how different she looked from what she was when I had last seen
her, for she was lying stretched on the ground covered with blood, and
weeping bitterly.
"Traitress!" cried the genius, "is not this man your lover?"
She lifted up her eyes slowly, and looked sadly at me. "I never saw
him before," she answered slowly. "I do not know who he is."
"What!" exclaimed the genius, "you owe all your sufferings to him, and
yet you dare to say he is a stranger to you!"
"But if he really is a stranger to me," she replied, "why should I tell
a lie and cause his death?"
"Very well," said the genius, drawing his sword, "take this, and cut
off his head."
"Alas," answered the princess, "I am too weak even to hold the sabre.
And supposing that I had the strength, why should I put an innocent man
to death?"
"You condemn yourself by your refusal," said the genius; then turning
to me, he added, "and you, do you not know her?"
"How should I?" I replied, resolved to imitate the princess in her
fidelity. "How should I, when I never saw her before?"
"Cut her head off," then, "if she is a stranger to you, and I shall
believe you are speaking the truth, and will set you at liberty."