Comfortably ensconced in the palace of the Deys--elected by a majority
of his comrades--the Aga Hamet proceeded to enjoy his high position, and
to exercise the authority of ruler of the pirate city.
The day after his ascension of what we may call the dangerous throne, he
sent for Hadji Baba the story-teller.
"Thou art a witty fellow, it seems?" said the Dey, when Baba made his
appearance.
"So it has been said of me, and so I once thought," replied the jester
humbly; "but I have come to doubt the worth of my own wit, since it has
led me to dwell in a palace."
"How so, knave? What mean you?"
"In truth, I know not," replied Baba. "My wit is scarce sufficient to
make my meaning plain even to myself. Only I feel that the brilliancy
of the wit of those who dwell in palaces is too much for me. 'Twere
better, methinks, if I had remained on my shoemaker's bench."
"'Twere indeed better for thee to have done so, good fellow, if thou
canst say nothing better than that," replied Hamet angrily, for he was a
stupid as well as an ambitious man. "Let's have something better from
thee, else the bastinado shall drive sense from thy heels into thy
head."
"Nay, then, it is hard," returned Baba, with a smile, "to be asked to
talk sense when I was hired by thy late master--"
"_My_ late master!" roared the Dey.
"Surely I said `_my_ late master,' did I not?" returned Hadji Baba,
rubbing his forehead as if he were confused--as, in truth, the poor
fellow was, by the terrible scenes that had lately been enacted in the
palace. "As I meant to say, then,--it is hard for me to talk sense when
_my_ late master hired me expressly to talk nonsense."
"H'm, yes, very true," replied the Dey, looking wise. "Let me, then,
hear some of thy nonsense."
"Ah, your highness, that is easily done," said Baba, with sudden
animation. "What shall be the subject of my discourse?--the affairs of
state?"
The Dey nodded.
"Let me, then, make a broad statement of a nonsensical kind, which, in
its particular applications may be said to be endless. A throne won by
treachery, violence, and bloodshed cannot stand long in--"
"Villain!" shouted the Dey.
"Nay, I do but jest," said Baba, with a look of simplicity.
"Jest or no jest, thou shalt smart for it," cried the Dey, whose anger
had been greatly roused.--"Ho! seize him and give him the bastinado, and
afterwards bring him hither again."
Two chaouses, who were in attendance in a neighbouring room, at once
entered, and, seizing the unfortunate story-teller, hurried him down to
an apartment in the palace which was reserved for punishments of various
kinds, including strangulation. Here they stripped off Baba's
embroidered shoes and white hose.
"We have long been fellow-servants under this roof," said Hadji Baba, as
they were about to begin.
"That is true," replied one of the chaouses sternly.
"_I_ shall be forgiven, and depend on it _thou_ shalt not be forgotten,"
said Baba quietly.
The executioner, who knew that the story-teller had been a man of
influence and power in the previous reign, hesitated.
"We have our orders, Hadji Baba," said he, remonstratively, "and you
know that it is as much as our lives are worth to fail in our
obedience."
"I bid you not to fail in the performance of your duty, but I counsel
you to lay on lightly," returned the jester, with a grim smile.
"And how if the Dey should expect to hear thy cries, and afterwards to
see thee limp into his presence?" asked the man in a tone of indecision.
"Depend on't he shall both see and hear," exclaimed Baba, with a laugh.
"Thinkest thou that my head is not equal to the saving of my feet? Lay
on _lightly_, so that there may be somewhat to show; but see thou dost
not over-do it. I will engage to let the tyrant hear on the deafest
side of his head, and will limp into his presence with most unfeigned
sincerity."
"Well, then, I begin," said the man, applying a few strokes with a lithe
rod to the soles of the jester's feet.
Baba was true to his word. He suddenly gave vent to a yell so appalling
that the very executioner, accustomed though he was to such sounds,
quailed for a moment, and said anxiously--
"Did I hit you too hard?"
"Hard!" echoed Baba, mingling a roar of laughter with his next yell.
"Fear not, good comrade; go on, do thy duty--ha! ha!--ho-o-o! Stop!
Why, it is worse than I had imagined," he added, as the man delivered a
cut that was rather sharp. "But go on," cried Hadji Baba, with another
yell; "I must have _something_ to show, and _he_ shall smart for it."
He followed up this remark with a series of amateur shrieks and howls so
terrible that the hardened chaouses, being accustomed only to the
genuine display of suffering, were overcome, and entreated him to
desist.
The excitement of the exercise, the conflict of varied feelings, the
smarting of his soles, the indignation of his soul, and the absurdity of
the deception, had such an effect on Hadji Baba's spirit, that he
experienced no difficulty whatever in limping like a confirmed cripple,
and trembling like an aspen leaf when led into the presence of the
tyrant.
"Ha!" exclaimed the Dey, "I think I have cured thee. Thou wilt talk no
more nonsense, I warrant."
"Not a word, your highness, not a syllable," exclaimed the jester,
falling on his knees, as the executioners retired. "Even though your
highness were to hold the reins of power with a hand of gentleness and
benignity, which I doubt not you will, I would not repeat such nonsense
for the world."
"Gentleness and benignity," laughed the Dey, catching at the words, and
paying little regard to what followed; "truly that were a novel feature
in my character, as thou knowest well.--Now, listen, rascal: as thy feet
are in good walking trim, I have an errand for thee. Go, tell Sidi
Hassan that I want him, and see thou find him quickly, else another
beating awaits thee."
"Your highness shall be obeyed," said the jester, with a profound
obeisance, as he turned and limped out of the room.
Sidi Hassan had left the service of the British consul, without leave,
just before the insurrection, and was seated in his own town mansion,
sipping a cup of coffee, and conversing with Rais Ali, when the message
reached him.
"Thou art but a cowardly fellow, a weak villain after all," said Hassan
to some remark of the interpreter. "The man who plays fast and loose is
sure to be brought low sooner or later. Why not leave the British
consul's service now that a chance offers? It will be to thy advantage,
for I can speak a good word for thee with the new Dey."
"Because," said Rais Ali anxiously, "although I have not a sensitive
conscience, I cannot prevail on myself to betray my old master."
"Very good," said Hassan; "continue to vacillate until thy head is
shaken off. Adieu. I must not keep his highness waiting."
So saying, he hastened to the palace, congratulating himself on the
expected fulfilment of the promises which the late Aga Hamet had so
lavishly made to him.
Like many other sycophants, Sidi Hassan had mistaken his man. The new
Dey was well aware that Hassan was a turbulent, ambitious character, and
thought that it would be best for his own interests to appoint him
governor of a distant province of his dominions. Like many other
coarse, though energetic, characters, Hamet also mistook his man. He
did not know that Hassan would be content with nothing short of the
position of second in command. When, therefore, he handed him, with
many compliments, the paper containing his commission to the
governorship of the province alluded to, he was greatly surprised to
behold his former friend fly into a violent passion, tear the paper to
pieces, and fling it on the ground, as he turned on his heel and left
the room abruptly.
So suddenly and vigorously was the act done that Hamet's wonted coolness
failed him for a moment, and Hassan had passed out into the street
before he gave orders, in a voice of thunder, to have him arrested and
brought back.
There is no doubt that in his present temper the Dey would have had his
late colleague strangled on the spot, but, fortunately for himself, Sidi
Hassan, instead of returning to his own house, went straight to the
Marina, without having any definite object in view, save that he
thirsted for vengeance, and meant to have it if possible.
On his way down he met the sapient interpreter, Blindi Bobi.
"Well, Bobi," he said, making an effort to look calm, "any probability
of a rising among the slaves?"
"Not much," replied Bobi, in Turkish, shaking his head; "slaves don't
like to have their heads cut off and their skin torn away in bits."
"True!" returned Hassan, smiling grimly. "Do you know where Sidi Omar
is?"
"There," said Blindi Bobi in reply, pointing to the individual in
question, and sidling rapidly away.
"Something ails you, methinks," said Omar, with a keen glance, as Hassan
approached.
"Ay, the new Dey ails me," returned Hassan, with a feeling of
desperation, for he felt that he was committing himself in thus speaking
to one whom he knew to be his enemy--but anger often leads men into
unwise speech.
"Has he deceived you?" asked Omar, with a quiet smile.
"Truly, yes. Had I known him better he should not have had mine aid.
My party followed _me_, not _him_. I could have led them otherwise, and
still can."
"It may not be too late," said Omar pointedly, as he began to suspect
that Hassan's thirst for revenge would carry him to any length.--"Are
these sbirros in search of _you_?" he added on observing several of the
officers of justice issue from the town gate.
Hassan turned pale.
"Your regrets come too late," said Omar significantly.
"My hand and party," said Hassan quickly, "are with you, Sidi Omar, if--
if--"
"Step in here," said the Minister of Marine, pushing open a small
side-door which led into his house.
Hassan obeyed, the door was shut, and he felt that he was now completely
in the hands of one whom he had hitherto regarded with suspicion and
dislike.
Of course the Minister of Marine understood this as well as himself, but
he was too wily to let him read his thoughts by his looks or words.
"Hassan," he said, leading him into a small chamber in the seaward
ramparts, which was lighted by a very small and strongly-barred window,
"you are safe from immediate danger. We may here talk over our plans--
for plans I at least have. The Dey fears me too much, as you know, to
permit me to remain here as Minister of Marine. He is also so savage
and hasty that I do not expect him to restrain his hand for more than a
day or two. But I do not mean to give him a chance. My friends are
already in possession of the casba--"
"Already!" exclaimed Hassan in surprise.
"Ay, and they hold other places besides. You and your party are of
course doomed."
Hassan started to his feet.
"Nay--_were_ doomed," said Omar, with a smile; "but what you have said
just now alters the case. Give me your aid, and that of your party, and
you shall have from _me_ the post which Hamet has failed to give you.
You know me to be a man of my word."
Whether Hassan was much comforted by the last remark is a point of
uncertainty; but, feeling that he was now entirely in Omar's power, and
knowing that although the soldiers whom he styled his "party" were not
nearly numerous or influential enough to place him on the throne, he
willingly fell in with Omar's views.
"When do you strike?" he asked.
"To-night," said Omar.
"So soon?"
"The sooner the better. Come, we have time to go together to the casba.
There thou wilt assemble thy chief men, and in my presence give them
instructions."
"You do not trust me," said Hassan reproachfully.
"I _have_ trusted you with my secret and my life," replied Omar, "it is
but fitting that thou shouldst give me some sure guarantee of thy
friendship--though I doubt it not."
"Be it so," said Hassan, as he rose, and, following the conspirator into
the street, hurried up to the citadel.
When Hamet Dey issued the order to have Sidi Hassan arrested, as already
related, Hadji Baba, having returned to his wonted place in the lobby of
the palace, heard the order, and, being a bold man, ventured into the
audience-chamber after the Dey had left it. There he found the pieces
of the torn commission. Picking them hastily up, he retired to his own
apartment, put them together, and very soon guessed the nature of the
quarrel between his new master and Sidi Hassan. Rightly concluding,
from the insolent violence of Hassan's exit and the extremity of the
Dey's rage, that the breach was irreparable, and knowing that Hassan was
a man of some weight with the army, he resolved to ascertain the views
of that worthy, and, in the event of his designing mischief, to aid him.
With this end in view he hastened out to search for Hassan, but, like
the officers of justice, failed for some time to find him. He met,
however, with two of the searchers in the persons of the chaouses who
had so recently administered the bastinado in a mild manner to himself.
"Well met, comrades," he said, with a nod; "we have no chance of finding
Sidi Hassan, I fear, for when fools are abroad, wise men stop at home."
"Thou hadst better get thee home, then," retorted the executioner
gruffly.
"Not badly thrust," said the jester, laughing; "but have patience with
me, comrade. I am no fool to-day. For once in a way I mean to act the
wiseacre. You see,"--here he became confidential--"what the household
of the palace may expect from our new master."
"I see nothing," replied the man testily, "except that whatever master
rules there is always plenty of work for me and my chum here to do; and
let me tell you, Master Baba, that I am no revolutionist--I mind my own
business."
"Very good, comrade," returned Baba lightly; "thou wilt play the fool
to-day and change places with me. But bear in remembrance that a
chaouse may have to be beaten as well as a jester, and that it would not
be difficult to find others to take thy place. I might even be tempted
to do so myself in case of necessity. It would be a rare jest to have a
chaouse beaten by a jester, would it not?"
"If it ever comes to that, I hope you will prove grateful and lay on
lightly," returned the man, with a grim smile.
"That will depend on thy behaviour. If thou art resolved to play the
fool _now_, I must of necessity be in earnest _then_."
"What mean you?"
"This," said Baba, with sudden gravity, "that those who stand by a
falling man must e'en fall along with him."
"But Hamet Dey is not falling. He has only just risen!" said the
chaouse, with a perplexed look.
"He is not the first who has risen to fall," replied Hadji Baba gravely.
"I would not stand in his slippers for all the treasure in the casba.
Be wise, and take advice from a fool. Sidi Hassan did not quit the
palace to-day to go and smoke his pipe. He is a man of power and a
malcontent. There are other men of power who are also malcontents and
more popular than Hamet. When this is so, it behoves the like of you
and me to look carefully after our necks, to say nothing of our soles!"
As he said this an exclamation from the elder chaouse drew his attention
to the fact that Sidi Hassan himself had just turned the corner of the
street in which they had been conversing, and was at that moment so
earnestly engaged in conversation with Sidi Omar, that the two
approached without at first observing the officers of justice.
The instant Hassan's eye alighted on them, he stopped and became visibly
paler. Omar also stopped, but pretended not to observe the change in
his companion's countenance, nor its cause, as he continued the
conversation.
"Hist!" whispered Hadji Baba to his companions, "when enemies become
sudden friends, we should know how to act."
It was evident from the look of anxiety and uncertainty depicted in the
visage of the elder chaouse that he did not by any means know how to
act. With the stern resolution of a bull-dog nature, however, he
suddenly made up his mind to do his duty.
Advancing quickly toward Hassan, he was about to lay hold of him, when
Hadji Baba stepped abruptly before him, and said with an affable air and
smile--
"His Highness the Dey has sent these good fellows to arrest Sidi Hassan,
and I have taken upon my own shoulders the weighty responsibility--
being, as is well-known, a fool--to offer our united services in the
reversal of the decree by the arrestment of the Dey instead."
"A bold jest, good fellow, and one that may cost thee thy life, for the
present Dey understands not a jest."
"It is no jest," returned Baba, with a keen glance at Omar, whom he knew
to be a plotter in the state; "my soles tingle now with what they have
already received, and my thoughts tingle with what is yet to come. If
you have need of friends in the palace here are two--good and true,"
said Baba, turning to the chaouses, who stood mute with amazement at the
man's impudence, "and I am one, which makes three, according to the
rules of arithmetic. If we are not wanted, then these men must do their
duty, for Sidi Hassan is wanted, and we may as well go blithely to our
doom together."
"Fellow," said Omar sternly, "dost know that I have power to have thee
flayed alive without consulting thy master?"
"Nay, not without consulting my master," said Baba, bowing respectfully,
"for my master is before me!"
"In sooth thou art a very impudent knave," returned Omar, smiling in
spite of himself; "and were I the vile plotter thou imaginest, I should
be afraid of having such a changeable friend in the palace."
"Am I changeable for preferring the kind master who was slain to him who
slew him?" said Baba simply.
"That is true, Hadji Baba," returned Omar, suddenly changing his
tone.--"Sidi Hassan, fortune is favourable to us. We will trust these
men. They dare not play us false even though they would, because their
own lives would be forfeited.--Hadji Baba, it may be well for thee to
know that, while we avail ourselves of thine aid and that of thy
friends, we are quite independent of it, because it happens that the
train is already laid, and nothing that thou couldst do, not even the
instant alarm of the palace guards, could prevent it from being fired, I
believe thee faithful, but this information may help to increase thy
fidelity. Go, and, hark 'ee, be very careful to have the guards well
placed and looked after to-night at _the hour of nine_."