At this the poor man was sore troubled.
"I did not come hither for the damsel," said he, "she is thy property, and, if such be thy desire, thou mayest take mine away also."
"Then what's thy errand here?" roared the ghost.
"Alas! 'tis my wife, the old woman of the well," sighed the former wood-cutter, "and I only left her in the well that I might be rid of her."
On hearing this the ghost was terribly frightened, and it was with a small voice that he now inquired whether by chance she had come to light again.
"Yes, indeed, she's outside," sighed the man, "wherever I may go I am saddled with her. I haven't the heart to free myself from her. Hark! she's at the door now, she'll be in the room in a moment."
The ghost needed no more. Forthwith he left the daughter of the Sultan, and the Serai, and the whole city, and the whole kingdom, so that not even the rumour of him remained. And not a child of man has ever seen him since.
But the daughter of the Sultan recovered instantly, and they gave her to the former wood-cutter, and he took her home as his second wife.
