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112 "He does n't say. Both of your excellent brothers have returned to me for enough to make a new start in life, after having failed to win the hand of this princess."

"Did they tell you of their experiences?" I inquired with natural curiosity.

"Only in the most general terms," my father answered, smiling grimly at his own thoughts. "They told me that each candidate had certain tasks to perform, and agreed to leave the country forever if unsuccessful."

"And my brothers failed?"

"At the first task," said my father.

"Which was, perhaps, difficult?"

"Difficult, you may well say. It was to bring from the Hereditary Khan of Bijoutery, a proud and warlike chieftain, his most cherished bit of bric-à-brac, a goblet containing three priceless amethysts, given to him by a descendant of Haroun Alraschid. The Princess thinks she would like to have the jewels set in her bonbonniere."

"Pardon me, Papa," said I, "but I do not know that Frankish term."

"It is an outlandish name for a candy-box," said my father, who was simplicity itself.

"Could not my brothers obtain this little favor for the gentle Princess?" was my comment.

"They escaped with their lives only by the merest accident," said he. "The eldest made a midnight visit to the Khan's jewel-room, was discovered and leaped into the moat, some fifty parasangs below, if my memory be what it was; and then he swam four leagues, according to his own estimate, before rising to the surface for air."

"And the second?"