The prince, whose grief was beyond expression, went into the city, which was built on the seaside, and had a fine port; he walked up and down the streets without knowing where he was, or where to stop. At last he came to the port, in as great uncertainty as ever what he should do. Walking along the shore, he perceived the gate of a garden open, and an old gardener at work in it; the good man looking up, saw he was a stranger and a Moosulmaun, and asked him to come in, and shut the door after him.