All this time the grand-vizir was in a terrible state of anxiety. But
he was much delighted when he saw the Sultan enter the council-chamber
without giving the terrible command that he was expecting.
The next morning, before the day broke, Dinarzade said to her sister,
"Dear sister, if you are awake I pray you to go on with your story."
The Sultan did not wait for Scheherazade to ask his leave. "Finish,"
said he, "the story of the genius and the merchant. I am curious to
hear the end."
So Scheherazade went on with the story. This happened every morning.
The Sultana told a story, and the Sultan let her live to finish it.
When the merchant saw that the genius was determined to cut off his
head, he said: "One word more, I entreat you. Grant me a little
delay; just a short time to go home and bid my wife and children
farewell, and to make my will. When I have done this I will come back
here, and you shall kill me."
"But," said the genius, "if I grant you the delay you ask, I am afraid
that you will not come back."
"I give you my word of honour," answered the merchant, "that I will
come back without fail."
"How long do you require?" asked the genius.
"I ask you for a year's grace," replied the merchant. "I promise you
that to-morrow twelvemonth, I shall be waiting under these trees to
give myself up to you."
On this the genius left him near the fountain and disappeared.
The merchant, having recovered from his fright, mounted his horse and
went on his road.
When he arrived home his wife and children received him with the
greatest joy. But instead of embracing them he began to weep so
bitterly that they soon guessed that something terrible was the matter.
"Tell us, I pray you," said his wife, "what has happened."