friend and favorite. Once as the Dervise was accompanying the king to the chase, he entertained his master with an account of his travels and many singular adventures. Their conversation at length turned upon India, and when the Dervise had related several very extraordinary events that had occurred there, he concluded by saying, that in the same country he had become acquainted with a certain venerable old bramin, one who had penetrated into some of nature’s deepest secrets. “He died in my arms,” continued the Dervise, “and with his last words communicated to me one of his rarest secrets, under the express condition, that I would never confide it to any other mortal.”
Surely, thought the king, this must be the grand art of making gold; and then his refusal to accept the highest office in his kingdom directly occured to him; this suspicion he communicated to his friend.
“No, my noble master,” replied the latter, “it is something far more wonderful; it is the secret power of again restoring a deceased body to life by a migration of my own spirit.” Just at that moment a roe was observed bounding past them, and the king, who was prepared to fire, brought it down by a shot through the heart. “There,” he said to the Dervise, “you have now an opportunity of displaying your power.”
“You seem to doubt it,” returned the Dervise, “but I will soon convince you of its truth;” and this
