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"I have been punished for breaking my vow. Help me to return to my home. I will reward thee well, and will atone for my sin." "Thy story is indeed sad," said the rabbi, gravely, "but thou knowest not the full extent of thy unfortunate plight. Art thou aware what land it is into which thou hast been cast?" "No," said Bar Shalmon, becoming afraid again.
Thus it was that Bar Shalmon found a troupe of beautiful fairies in the garden the next evening. They tried their utmost to induce him to return with them, but he would not listen. Every day different messengers came big, ugly demons who threatened, pretty fairies who tried to coax him, and troublesome sprites and goblins who only annoyed him.
They surrounded Bar Shalmon with threatening gestures and noises. The rabbi ascended the pulpit. "Silence!" he commanded, and immediately the noise ceased. "Ye who thirst for mortal blood, desecrate not this holy building wherein I am master. What ye have to say must wait until after the morning service." Silently and patiently they waited, sitting in all manner of queer places.
Immediately he heard of King Ashmedai's approach, he hastened to meet him and flung himself on the ground at his majesty's feet. "O King," he cried, "I have seen thy daughter, the princess, and I desire to make her my wife." "I cannot refuse," returned the king. "Such is our law that he who first sees the princess must become her husband, or die. But, have a care, Bar Shalmon.
He read the whole account of Bar Shalmon's life. Not one little event was missing. "The charge against Bar Shalmon, the mortal," the sprite concluded, "is that he has violated the solemn oath sworn at his father's death-bed."
Not one of the sailors moved, however, even when he offered fifty golden crowns, and at last Bar Shalmon said he would land alone, although the captain strongly urged him not to do so. Bar Shalmon sprang lightly to the shore, and as he did so the ship shook violently. "What did I tell you?" shouted the boatswain. "Bar Shalmon is the one who has brought us this misfortune.
He crept behind the bird, but as he approached it spread its big wings, and Bar Shalmon, to prevent himself being swept from the tree, dropped the knife and clutched at the bird's feathers. Immediately, to his dismay, the bird rose from the tree. Bar Shalmon clung to its back with all his might. Higher and higher soared the eagle until the trees below looked like mere dots on the land.
Mar Shalmon was his name, and he was the richest man in the land. Propped up with pillows on a richly decorated bed in a luxurious chamber, he gazed, with tears in his eyes, through the open window at the setting sun. Like a ball of fire it sank lower and lower until it almost seemed to rest on the tranquil waters beyond the harbor. Suddenly, Mar Shalmon roused himself.
The lion dashed itself furiously against the trunk of the tree, but, for the present, Bar Shalmon was safe. Night, however, was coming on, and the lion squatted at the foot of the tree, evidently intending to wait for him. All night the lion remained, roaring at intervals, and Bar Shalmon clung to one of the upper branches afraid to sleep lest he should fall off and be devoured.
"Think well, Bar Shalmon, ere you answer again. The sun has set and night is upon us. Think well, until sunrise. Come to me, return, and all shall be well. Refuse, and thou shalt be dealt with as thou hast merited. Think well before the sunrise." "And what will happen at sunrise, if I refuse?" asked Bar Shalmon. "Thou shalt see," returned the princess.
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