The Slave's Fortune

: Jewish Fairy Tales And Legends

Ahmed was the only child of the wealthiest merchant in Damascus. His

father devoted his days to doing everything possible to anticipate his

wishes. The boy returned his father's love with interest, and the two

lived together in the utmost happiness. They were seldom apart, the

father curtailing his business journeys so that he could hastily

return to Damascus, and finally restricting his affairs to those which

he could perform in his own home.



For safety's sake, Ahmed, whenever he was out of his father's sight,

was attended, by a big negro slave, Pedro, an imposing looking person,

richly attired as befitted his station and duties. Pedro was a

faithful servant, and he and Ahmed were the firmest friends.



When Ahmed grew up to be a youth, his father decided to send him to

Jerusalem to be educated. He did so reluctantly, knowing, however,

that it was the wisest course to adopt Gently he broke the news to

Ahmed, for he knew the latter would dislike to leave home. Ahmed was

truly sorry to have to be parted from his father, but he kept back his

tears and said bravely:



"It is thy wish, father, therefore I question it not. I know that thou

desirest only my welfare."



"Well spoken, my son," said his father.



"May I take Pedro with me?" asked Ahmed.



"Nay, that would not be seemly," answered his father, gently. "It

would make thee appear anxious to display thy wealth. Such ostentation

will induce people to regard thee and thy father as foolish persons,

possessed of more wealth than is good for the exercise of wisdom.

Also, my son, thy future teaching must be not confined to the learning

that wise men can impart unto thee. Thou art going to the great city

to learn the ways of the world, to train thyself in self-reliance, and

to prepare thyself for all the duties of manhood."



The youth was somewhat disappointed to hear this. It was the first

occasion, as far as his memory served him, that his father had failed

to grant his wish; but he was nevertheless flattered by the prospect

of quickly becoming a man, and he answered, "I bow to thy wisdom, my

father."



He left for Jerusalem, after bidding the merchant an affectionate

farewell, and in the Holy City he applied himself diligently to his

studies. He delighted his teachers with his cheerful attention to his

lessons, and discovered a new source of happiness in learning things

for himself from observation. Also, it was a pleasant sensation to

conduct his own affairs, and in the great city, with its busy narrow

thoroughfares and its wonderful buildings, he daily grew less

homesick. Regularly he received letters by messengers from his father,

and dutifully he returned, by the same means, long epistles, setting

out all the big and little things that made up his life.



A year passed, and one day the usual message that Ahmed expected came

to him in a strange hand-writing.



He opened it hastily, with a foreboding of evil and alarm. The writer

of the letter was one of the merchant's closest friends. He said:



"O worthy son of a most worthy father, greeting to thee, and may God

give thee strength to hear the terrible and sad tidings which it is my

sorrowful duty to convey unto thee. Know then that it hath pleased

God in his wisdom to call from this earth thy saintly father, to sit

with the righteous ones in Heaven. Here in the city of Damascus there

is great weeping, for thy honored father was the most upright of men,

a friend to all in distress, a man whose bounteous charity to the poor

and unfortunate was unsurpassed. But our grief, deep and heartfelt as

it is, cannot be compared to thine. We have all lost a wise counselor,

a trusty friend, a guide in all things. But thou hast lost more. Thou

hast lost a father. Thou art his only son, and on thee his duties will

now devolve. Know then thy profound grief we share with thee. We

tender to thee our sincere sympathy, and eagerly do we await thy

coming. Thou hast a noble position to occupy and a tradition to

continue. We, thy father's friends and thine, O Ahmed, will assist

thee."



The young man was dumbfounded when he gathered the purport of the

letter. For some moments he spoke not, but sat on the ground, weeping

silently. Then, remembering his father's admonitions, he promptly took

up the task of settling his affairs in Jerusalem prior to his

departure for Damascus.



"I will take with me," he said, "the good rabbi who has been my

religious instructor, for I am not fully prepared to undertake all the

duties that will fall to my lot and need some strengthening counsel."



On arrival at Damascus he was greeted by a large concourse of people

who expressed their sympathy with him and spoke in terms of highest

praise of his father's benevolence.



After the funeral, Ahmed called the leading townspeople together to

hear his father's will read, for he was certain that many gifts to

charities would be announced. Such was the case, and there were

subdued murmurs of applause when the amounts were read forth.



Then suddenly the friend who had written to the young man and was

reading the will, paused.



"I fear there must be a mistake," he said, in a whisper to Ahmed.



"Go on," urged the assembled people, and the man read in a strange

voice:



"And now, having as I hope, faithfully performed my duty to the poor,

I bequeath the rest of my possessions unto my devoted negro slave,

Pedro."



"Pedro!" cried the astonished crowd.



They looked at the massive figure of the black attendant, but he stood

motionless and impassive, betraying no sign whatsoever of joy or

surprise.



Ahmed could not conceal his bewilderment.



"Is naught left unto me?" he managed to ask.



"Yes," returned his friend, and amid a sudden silence, he continued to

read: "This bequest is subject to the following proviso: that one

thing be given to my son before the division of my property, the same

to be selected by him within twenty-four hours of the reading of this

will unto him."



The crowd melted away with mutterings of sympathy mingled with

astonishment, but out of earshot of Ahmed, all said the merchant must

have been mad to draw up so absurd a testament. Ahmed himself could

hardly realize the great blow that had befallen him. He consulted with

his father's friend and the rabbi, but, although they re-read the

document many times, they could find no fault or flaw in it.



"Legally, this is correct and in perfect order and cannot be altered,"

said the friend.



"My father must have made a foolish mistake and must have misplaced

the two words 'son' and 'slave,'" said Ahmed, bitterly.



"That does not so appear," said the rabbi; "thy father was a scholar

and wise man. Speak not hastily, and above all act not rashly without

thought. I would counsel thee to sleep over this matter, and in the

morning we shall solve this puzzle."



Ahmed, who was exhausted with grief and rage and surprise, soon fell

into a deep sleep, and when he awoke the rabbi was reciting his

morning prayers.



"It is a beautiful day," he said, when he had finished. "The sun

shines on thy happiness, Ahmed."



Ahmed was too depressed to make any comment, nor was he completely

satisfied when the rabbi assured him all would be well.



"I have pondered deeply and long over thy father's words," he said. "I

sat up through the night until the dawn, and I have been impelled to

the conclusion that thy father was truly a wise man."



Ahmed interrupted with a gesture of disapproval. The rabbi took no

notice but proceeded quietly: "Thy father must have feared that in thy

absence after his death and pending thy possible delay in returning

hither, slaves and others might rob thee of thy inheritance. Pedro, I

have discovered, knew of the terms of the will. By informing him and

making his strange will, thy father, O fortunate Ahmed, made sure of

thy inheritance unto thee."



"I understand not," muttered Ahmed.



"It is perfectly clear," said the rabbi. "As soon as thou art ready,

thou shalt make thy choice of one thing. Do as I bid thee, and thou

shalt see thy father's wisdom."



Ahmed had no option but to agree. He could find no solution himself,

and wretched though he felt, reason told him that his father loved him

and that the rabbi was renowned for shrewdness.



The townspeople gathered early to hear Ahmed make his choice of one

thing--and one only--from his father's possessions. Ahmed looked less

troubled than they expected, the rabbi wore his most benign

expression, and Pedro stationed himself in his usual place at the

door, statuesque, obedient, and expressionless as ever.



Ahmed held up his hand to obtain silence.



"Acting under the terms of my father's will," he said, solemnly, "at

this moment when all, before division, belongs to his estate, I choose

but one of my father's possessions--Pedro, the black slave."



Then everybody saw the wisdom of the strange will, for with Pedro,

Ahmed became possessed of his father's vast wealth.



To Pedro, who still stood motionless, Ahmed said, "And thou, my good

friend, shalt have thy freedom and possessions sufficient to keep thee

in comfort for the rest of thy days."



"I desire naught but to serve thee," Pedro answered, "I wish to remain

the faithful attendant of one who will follow nobly in the footsteps

of thy father."



So everybody was satisfied.