"Yes, sire," answered the dervish; "if I am not mistaken, it is
the illness of the princess which has procured me this honour."

"You are right," returned the Sultan, "and you will give me fresh
life if you can by your prayers deliver my daughter from the strange
malady that has taken possession of her."

"Let your highness command her to come here, and I will see what I
can do."

The Sultan, full of hope, sent orders at once that the princess
was to set out as soon as possible, accompanied by her usual staff
of attendants. When she arrived, she was so thickly veiled that
the dervish could not see her face, but he desired a brazier to be
held over her head, and laid the seven hairs on the burning coals.
The instant they were consumed, terrific cries were heard,
but no one could tell from whom they proceeded. Only the dervish
guessed that they were uttered by Maimoum the son of Dimdim,
who felt the princess escaping him.

All this time she had seemed unconscious of what she was doing,
but now she raised her hand to her veil and uncovered her face.
"Where am I?" she said in a bewildered manner; "and how did I
get here?"

The Sultan was so delighted to hear these words that he not only
embraced his daughter, but kissed the hand of the dervish.
Then, turning to his attendants who stood round, he said to them,
"What reward shall I give to the man who has restored me my daughter?"