The next morning the pacha and his minister, after the business of the
divan, with their heads aching from the doubts of Hudusi, or the means
that they had taken to refute them, in not the best humour in the world
listened to the continuation of them as follows:--
* * * * *
I have heard it observed, continued Hudusi, that the sudden possession
of gold will make a brave man cautious, and he who is not brave, still
more dastardly than he was before. It certainly was the case with me; my
five hundred pieces of gold had such an effect, that everything in the
shape of valour oozed out at my fingers' ends. I reflected again, and
the result was that I determined to have nothing more to do with the
business, and that neither the sultan nor the pacha should be the better
for my exertions. That night we made a sally; and as I was considered a
prodigy of valour, I was one of those who were ordered to lead on my
troop. I curled my moustachios, swore I would not leave a janissary
alive, flourished my scimitar, marched out at the head of my troop, and
then took to my heels, and in two days arrived safely at my mother's
house. As soon as I entered, I tore my turban, and threw dust upon my
head, in honour of my father's memory, and then sat down. My mother
embraced me--we were alone.
"And your father? Is it for him that we are to mourn?"
"Yes," replied I, "he was a lion, and he is in Paradise."
My mother commenced a bitter lamentation; but of a sudden recollecting
herself, she said, "But, Hudusi, it's no use tearing one's hair and good
clothes for nothing. Are you sure that your father is dead?"
"Quite sure," replied I. "I saw him down."
"But he may only be wounded," replied my mother.
"Not so, my dearest mother, abandon all hope, for I saw his head off."
"Are you sure it was his body that you saw with the head off?"
"Quite sure, dear mother, for I was a witness to its being cut off."
"If that is the case," replied my mother, "he can never come back again,
that's clear. Allah acbar--God is great. Then must we mourn." And my
mother ran out into the street before the door, shrieking and screaming,
tearing her hair and her garments, so as to draw the attention and
sympathy of all her neighbours, who asked her what was the matter. "Ah!
wahi, the head of my house is no more," cried she, "my heart is all
bitterness--my soul is dried up--my liver is but as water; ah! wahi, ah!
wahi," and she continued to weep and tear her hair, refusing all
consolation. The neighbours came to her assistance; they talked to her,
they reasoned with her, restrained her violence, and soothed her into
quietness. They all declared that it was a heavy loss, but that a true
believer had gone to Paradise; and they all agreed that no woman's
conduct could be more exemplary, that no woman was ever more fond of her
husband. I said nothing, but I must acknowledge that, from her previous
conversation with me, and the quantity of pilau which she devoured that
evening for her supper, I _very much doubted the fact_.
I did not remain long at home, as, although it was my duty to acquaint
my mother with my father's death, it was also my duty to appear to
return to my corps. This I had resolved never more to do. I reflected
that a life of quiet and ease was best suited to my disposition, and I
resolved to join some religious sect. Before I quitted my mother's roof
I gave her thirty sequins, which she was most thankful for, as she was
in straitened circumstances. "Ah!" cried she, as she wrapt up the money
carefully in a piece of rag, "if you could only have brought back your
poor father's head, Hudusi!"--I might have told her that she had just
received what I had sold it for--but I thought it just as well to say
nothing about it; so I embraced her, and departed.
There was a sort of dervishes, who had taken up their quarters about
seven miles from the village where my mother resided, and as they never
remained long in one place, I hastened to join them. On my arrival, I
requested to speak with their chief, and imagining that I was come with
the request of prayers to be offered up on behalf of some wished-for
object, I was admitted.
"Khoda shefa midêhed--God gives relief," said the old man. "What wishest
thou, my son? Khosh amedeed--you are welcome."
I stated my wish to enter into the sect, from a religious feeling; and
requested that I might be permitted.
"Thou knowest not what thou askest, my son. Ours is a hard life, one of
penitence, prostration, and prayer--our food is but of herbs and the
water of the spring; our rest is broken, and we know not where to lay
our heads. Depart, yaha bibi, my friend, depart in peace."
"But, father," replied I (for to tell your highness the truth,
notwithstanding the old man's assertions, as to their austerities of
life, I very much doubted the fact), "I am prepared for all this, if
necessary, and even more. I have brought my little wealth to add to the
store, and contribute to the welfare of your holy band; and I must not
be denied." I perceived that the old man's eyes twinkled at the bare
mention of gold, and I drew from my sash five-and-twenty sequins, which
I had separated from my hoard, with the intention of offering it. "See,
holy father," continued I, "the offering which I would make."
"Barik Allah--praise be to God," exclaimed the dervish, "that he has
sent us a true believer. Thy offering is accepted, but thou must not
expect yet to enter into the austerities of our holy order. I have many
disciples here, who wear the dress, and yet they are not as regular as
good dervishes should be; but there is a time for all things, and when
their appetite to do wrong fails them, they will (Inshallah, please
God), in all probability, become more holy and devout men. You are
accepted." And the old man held out his hand for the money, which he
clutched with eagerness, and hid away under his garment. "Ali," said he
to one of the dervishes who had stood at some distance during my
audience, "this young man--what is your name--Hudusi--is admitted into
our fraternity. Take him with thee, give him a dress of the order, and
let him be initiated into our mysteries, first demanding from him the
oath of secrecy. Murakhas, good Hudusi, you are dismissed."
I followed the dervish through a narrow passage, until we arrived at a
door, at which he knocked; it was opened, and I passed through a
courtyard, where I perceived several of the dervishes stretched on the
ground in various postures, breathing heavily and insensible.
"These," said my conductor, "are holy men who are favoured by Allah.
They are in a trance, and during that state are visited by the Prophet,
and are permitted to enter the eighth heaven, and see the glories
prepared for true believers." I made no reply to his assertion, but as
it was evident that they were all in a state of beastly intoxication, I
_very much doubted the fact_.
I received my dress, took an oath of secrecy, and was introduced to my
companions, whom I soon found to be a set of dissolute fellows,
indulging in every vice, and laughing at every virtue; living in
idleness, and by the contributions made to them by the people, who
firmly believed in their pretended sanctity. The old man, with the white
beard, who was their chief, was the only one who did not indulge in
debauchery. He had outlived his appetite for the vices of youth, and
fallen into the vice of age--a love for money, which was insatiable. I
must acknowledge that the company and mode of living were more to my
satisfaction than the vigils, hard fare, and constant prayer, with which
the old man had threatened me, when I proposed to enter the community,
and I soon became an adept in dissimulation and hypocrisy, and a great
favourite with my brethren.
I ought to have observed to your sublimity, that the sect of dervishes
of which I had become a member, were then designated by the name of
_howling_ dervishes; all our religion consisted in howling like jackals
or hyenas, with all our might, until we fell down in real or pretended
convulsions. My howl was considered as the most appalling and unearthly
that was ever heard, and, of course, my sanctity was increased in
proportion. We were on our way to Scutari, where was our real place of
residence, and only lodged here and there on our journey to fleece those
who were piously disposed. I had not joined more than ten days when
they continued their route, and after a week of very profitable
travelling, passed through Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and
regained their place of domiciliation, and were received with great joy
by the inhabitants, to whom the old chief and many others of our troop
were well known.
Your sublime highness must be aware that the dervishes are not only
consulted by, but often become the bankers of, the inhabitants, who
intrust them with the care of their money. My old chief (whose name I
should have mentioned before was Ulu-bibi) held large sums in trust for
many of the people with whom he was acquainted; but his avarice inducing
him to lend the money out on usury, it was very difficult to recover it
when it was desired, although it was always religiously paid back. I had
not been many months at Scutari, before I found myself in high favour,
from my superior howling and the duration of my convulsions. But during
this state, which by habit soon became spasmodic, continuing until the
vital functions were almost extinct, the mind was as active as ever, and
I lay immersed in a sea of doubt which was most painful. In my state of
exhaustion I doubted everything. I doubted if my convulsions were
convulsions or only feigned; I doubted if I was asleep or awake; I
doubted whether I was in a trance, or in another world, or dead, or----
* * * * *
"Friend Hudusi," interrupted Mustapha, "we want the facts of your story,
and not your doubts. Say I not well, your highness? What is all this but
bosh?--nothing."
"It is well said," replied the pacha.
"Sometimes I thought that I had seized possession of a fact, but it
slipped through my fingers like the tail of an eel."
"Let us have the facts, which did not escape thee, friend, and let the
mists of doubt be cleared away before the glory of the pacha," replied
Mustapha.
One day I was sitting in the warmth of the sun, by the tomb of a true
believer, when an old woman accosted me. "You are welcome," said I.
"Is your humour good?" said she.
"It is good," replied I.
She sat down by me, and after a quarter of an hour she continued: "God
is great," said she.
"And Mahomet is his Prophet," replied I. "In the name of Allah, what do
you wish?"
"Where is the holy man? I have money to give into his charge. May I not
see him?"
"He is at his devotions--but what is that? Am not I the same? Do I not
watch when he prayeth--Inshallah--please God, we are the same. Give me
the bag."
"Here it is," said she, pulling out the money: "seven hundred sequins,
my daughter's marriage-portion; but there are bad men, who steal, and
there are good men, whom we can trust. Say I not well?"
"It is well said," replied I; "and God is great."
"You will find the money right," said she. "Count it."
I counted it, and returned it into the goat-skin bag. "It is all right.
Leave me, woman, for I must go in."
The old woman left me, returning thanks to Allah that her money was
safe, but from certain ideas running in my mind, I very _much doubted
the fact_. I sat down full of doubts. I doubted if the old woman had
come honestly by the money; and whether I should give it to the head
dervish. I doubted whether I ought to retain it for myself, and whether
I might not come to mischief. I also had my doubts----
* * * * *
"I have no doubt," interrupted Mustapha, "but that you kept it for
yourself. Say--is it not so?"
* * * * *
Even so did my doubts resolve into that fact. I settled it in my mind,
that seven hundred sequins, added to about four hundred still in my
possession, would last some time, and that I was tired of the life of a
howling dervish. I therefore set up one last long final howl to let my
senior know that I was present, and then immediately became absent. I
hastened to the bazaar, and purchasing here and there--at one place a
vest, at another a shawl, and at another a turban--I threw off my dress
of a dervish, hastened to the bath, and after a few minutes under the
barber, came out like a butterfly from its dark shell. No one would have
recognised in the spruce young Turk, the filthy dervish. I hastened to
Constantinople, where I lived gaily, and spent my money; but I found
that to mix in the world, it is necessary not only to have an attaghan,
but also to have the courage to use it; and in several broils which took
place, from my too frequent use of the water of the Giaour, I invariably
proved that, although my voice was that of a lion, my heart was but as
water, and the finger of contempt was but too often pointed at the beard
of pretence. One evening, as I was escaping from a coffee-house, after
having drawn my attaghan, without having the courage to face my
adversary, I received a blow from his weapon which cleft my turban, and
cut deeply into my head. I flew through the streets upon the wings of
fear, and at last ran against an unknown object, which I knocked down,
and then fell along side of, rolling with it in the mud. I recovered
myself, and looking at it, found it to be alive, and, in the excess of
my alarm, I imagined it to be Shitan himself; but if not the devil
himself, it was one of the sons of Shitan, for it was an unbeliever, a
Giaour, a dog to spit upon; in short, it was a Frank hakim--so renowned
for curing all diseases that it was said he was assisted by the Devil.
* * * * *
"Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil!" said Mustapha, taking his pipe
out of his mouth and spitting.
"Wallah Thaib! It is well said," replied the pacha.
* * * * *
I was so convinced that it was nothing of this world, that, as soon as
I could recover my legs, I made a blow at him with my attaghan, fully
expecting that he would disappear in a flame of fire at the touch of a
true believer; but, on the contrary, he had also recovered his legs, and
with a large cane with a gold top on it, he parried my cut, and then
saluted me with such a blow on my head, that I again fell down in the
mud, quite insensible. When I recovered, I found myself on a mat in an
outhouse, and attended by my opponent, who was plastering up my head.
"It is nothing," said he, as he bound up my head; but I suffered so much
pain, and felt so weak from loss of blood, that in spite of his
assertions, I very much doubted the fact. Shall I describe this son of
Jehanum? And when I do so, will not your highness doubt the fact? Be
chesm, upon my head be it, if I lie. He was less than a man, for he had
no beard; he had no turban, but a piece of net-work, covered with the
hair of other men in their tombs, which he sprinkled with the flour from
the baker's, every morning, to feed his brain. He wore round his neck a
piece of linen, tight as a bowstring, to prevent his head being taken
off by any devout true believer, as he walked through the street. His
dress was of the colour of hell, black, and bound closely to his body,
yet must he have been a great man in his own country, for he was
evidently a pacha of two tails, which were hanging behind him. He was a
dreadful man to look upon, and feared nothing; he walked into the house
of pestilence--he handled those whom Allah had visited with the
plague--he went to the bed, and the sick rose and walked. He warred with
destiny; and no man could say what was his fate until the Hakim had
decided. He held in his hand the key of the portal, which opened into
the regions of death; and--what can I say more?--he said live, and the
believer lived; he said die, and the houris received him into Paradise.
* * * * *
"A yesedi! a worshipper of the devil," exclaimed Mustapha.
"May he and his father's grave be eternally defiled!" responded the
pacha.
* * * * *
I remained a fortnight under the Hakim's hands before I was well enough
to walk about; and when I had reflected, I doubted whether it would not
be wiser to embrace a more peaceful profession. The Hakim spoke our
language well, and one day said to me, "Thou art more fit to cure than
to give wounds. Thou shalt assist me, for he who is now with me will not
remain." I consented, and putting on a more peaceful garb, continued
many months with the Frank physician, travelling everywhere, but seldom
remaining long in one place; he followed disease instead of flying from
it, and I had my doubts whether, from constant attendance upon the
dying, I might not die myself, and I resolved to quit him the first
favourable opportunity. I had already learnt many wonderful things from
him; that blood was necessary to life, and that without breath a man
would die, and that white powders cured fevers, and black drops stopped
the dysentery. At last we arrived in this town, and the other day, as I
was pounding the drug of reflection in the mortar of patience, the
physician desired me to bring his lancets, and to follow him. I paced
through the streets behind the learned Hakim, until we arrived at a mean
house, in an obscure quarter of this grand city over which your highness
reigns in justice. An old woman full of lamentation, led us to the sick
couch, where lay a creature, beautiful in shape as a houri. The Frank
physician was desired by the old woman to feel her pulse through the
curtain, but he laughed at her beard (for she had no small one), and
drew aside the curtains and took hold of a hand so small and so
delicate, that it were only fit to feed the Prophet himself near the
throne of the angel Gabriel, with the immortal pilau prepared for true
believers. Her face was covered, and the Frank desired the veil to be
removed. The old woman refused, and he turned on his heel to leave her
to the assaults of death. The old woman's love for her child conquered
her religious scruples, and she consented that her daughter should
unveil to an unbeliever. I was in ecstasy at her charms, and could have
asked her for a wife; but the Frank only asked to see her tongue. Having
looked at it, he turned away with as much indifference as if it had been
a dying dog. He desired me to bind up her arm, and took away a basin
full of her golden blood, and then put a white powder into the hands of
the old woman, saying that he would see her again. I held out my hand
for the gold, but there was none forthcoming.
"We are poor," cried the old woman, to the Hakim, "but God is great."
"I do not want your money, good woman," replied he; "I will cure your
daughter." Then he went to the bedside and spoke comfort to the sick
girl, telling her to be of good courage, and all would be well.
The girl answered in a voice sweeter than a nightingale's, that she had
but thanks to offer in return, and prayers to the Most High. "Yes," said
the old woman, raising her voice, "a scoundrel of a howling dervish
robbed me at Scutari of all I had for my subsistence, and of my
daughter's portion, seven hundred sequins, in a goat-skin bag!"--and
then she began to curse. May the dogs of the city howl at her ugliness!
How she did curse! She cursed my father and mother--she cursed their
graves--flung dirt upon my brother and sisters, and filth upon the whole
generation. She gave me up to Jehanum, and to every species of
defilement. It was a dreadful thing to hear that old woman curse. I
pulled my turban over my eyes, that she might not recognise me, and
lifted up my garment to cover my face, that I might not be defiled with
the shower of curses which were thrown at me like mud, and sat there
watching till the storm was over. Unfortunately, in lifting up my
garment, I exposed to the view of the old hag the cursed goat-skin bag,
which hung at my girdle, and contained, not only her money, but the
remainder of my own. "Mashallah--how wonderful is God!" screamed the
old beldame, flying at me like a tigress, and clutching the bag from my
girdle. Having secured that, she darted at me with her ten nails, and
scored down my face, which I had so unfortunately covered in the first
instance, and so unfortunately uncovered in the second. What shall I say
more? The neighbours came in--I was hurried before the cadi, in company
with the old woman and the Frank physician. The money and bag were taken
from me--I was dismissed by the Hakim, and after receiving one hundred
blows from the ferashes, I was dismissed by the cadi. It was my
fate--and I have told my story. Is your slave dismissed?
"No," replied the pacha; "by our beard, we must see to this, Mustapha;
say, Hudusi, what was the decision of the cadi? Our ears are open."
"The cadi decided as follows:--That I had stolen the money, and
therefore I was punished with the bastinado; but, as the old woman
stated that the bag contained seven hundred sequins, and there were
found in it upwards of eleven hundred, that the money could not belong
to her. He therefore retained it until he could find the right owner.
The physician was fined fifty sequins for looking at a Turkish woman,
and fifty more for shrugging up his shoulders. The girl was ordered into
the cadi's harem, because she had lost her dowry; and the old woman was
sent about her business. All present declared that the sentence was
wisdom itself; but, for my part, _I very much doubted the fact_."
"Mustapha," said the pacha, "send for the cadi, the Frank physician, the
old woman, the girl, and the goat-skin bag; we must examine into this
affair."
The officers were despatched, and in less than an hour, during which the
pacha and his vizier smoked in silence, the cadi and the others made
their appearance.
"May your highness's shadow never be less!" said the cadi, as he
entered.
"Mobarek! may you be fortunate!" replied the pacha. "What is this we
hear, cadi? There is a goat-skin bag and a girl, that are not known to
our justice. Are there secrets like those hid in the well of
Kashan--speak! what dirt have you been eating?"
"What shall I say?" replied the cadi; "I am but as dirt; the money is
here, and the girl is here. Is the pacha to be troubled with every
woman's noise, or am I to come before him with a piece or two of
gold--Min Allah--God forbid! Have I not here the money, and _seven more
purses_? Was not the girl visited by the angel of death; and could she
appear before your presence lean as a dog in the bazaar? Is she not
here? Have I spoken well?"
"It is well said, cadi. Murakhas--you are dismissed."
The Frank physician was then fined one hundred sequins more; fifty for
feeling the pulse, and fifty more for looking at a Turkish woman's
tongue. The young woman was dismissed to the pacha's harem, the old
woman to curse as much as she pleased, and Hudusi with full permission
to _doubt_ anything but the justice of the pacha.