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‘Here, behind me,’ answered Dschemil.

But when the poor woman caught sight of her daughter, she shrieked, and exclaimed, ‘Are you making fun of me? When did I ever give birth to an ass?’

‘Hush!’ said Dschemil, ‘it is not necessary to let the whole world know! And if you look at her body, you will see two scars on it.’

‘Mother,’ sobbed Dschemila, ‘do you really not know your own daughter?’

‘Yes, of course I know her.’

‘What are her two scars then?’

‘On her thigh is a scar from the bite of a dog, and on her breast is the mark of a burn, where she pulled a lamp over her when she was little.’

‘Then look at me, and see if I am not your daughter,’ said Dschemila, throwing off her clothes and showing her two scars.

And at the sight her mother embraced her, weeping.

‘Dear daughter,’ she cried, ‘what evil fate has befallen you?’

‘It was the ogre who carried me off first, and then bewitched me,’ answered Dschemila.

‘But what is to be done with you?’ asked her mother.

‘Hide me away, and tell no one anything about me. And you, dear cousin, say nothing to the neighbours, and if they should put questions, you can make answer that I have not yet been found.’

‘So I will,’ replied he.

Then he and her mother took her upstairs and hid her in a cupboard, where she stayed for a whole month, only going out to walk when all the world was asleep.

Meanwhile Dschemil had returned to his own home, where his father and mother, his brothers and neighbours, greeted him joyfully.

‘When did you come back?’ said they, ‘and have you found Dschemila?’

‘No, I searched the whole world after her, and could hear nothing of her.’

‘Did you part company with the man who started with you?’

‘Yes; after three days he got so weak and useless he could not go on. It must be a month by now since he reached home again. I went on and visited every castle, and looked in every house. But there were no signs of her; and so I gave it up.’

And they answered him: ‘We told you before that it was no good. An ogre or an ogress must have snapped her up, and how can you expect to find her?’

‘I loved her too much to be still,’ he said.

But his friends did not understand, and soon they spoke to him again about it.

‘We will seek for a wife for you. There are plenty of girls prettier than Dschemila.’

‘I dare say; but I don’t want them.’

‘But what will you do with all the cushions and carpets, and beautiful things you bought for your house?’

‘They can stay in the chests.’

‘But the moths will eat them! For a few weeks, it is of no consequence, but after a year or two they will be quite useless.’

‘And if they have to lie there ten years I will have Dschemila, and her only, for my wife. For a month, or even two months, I will rest here quietly. Then I will go and seek her afresh.’

‘Oh, you are quite mad! Is she the only maiden in the world? There are plenty of others better worth having than she is.’

‘If there are I have not seen them! And why do you make all this fuss? Every man knows his own business best.

‘Why, it is you who are making all the fuss yourself.’

But Dschemil turned and went into the house, for he did not want to quarrel.

Three months later a Jew, who was travelling across the desert, came to the castle, and laid himself down under the wall to rest.

In the evening the ogre saw him there and said to him, ‘Jew, what are you doing here? Have you anything to sell?’

‘I have only some clothes,’ answered the Jew, who was in mortal terror of the ogre.

‘Oh, don’t be afraid of me,’ said the ogre, laughing. ‘I shall not eat you. Indeed, I mean to go a bit of the way with you myself.’