THE SUDDEN RUIN AND UTTER DOWNFALL OF THE GREAT MOLEY PASHA.
The ladies' absence was a great relief to Mole. He devoutly hoped that
he had for ever got rid of the thirteen widows of his late lamented
predecessor.
About an hour afterwards, when Mole was striving to calm his irritated
feelings with a cup of coffee and hookah, Jack and Harry arrived, as
they said, from a walk round the neighbouring country, looking as
innocent as any of the lambs they may have met on the finely-grassed
hills.
This innocent look was remarkable, because, as the reader has probably
suspected, they had really been concerned in Mr. Mole's recent
adventure.
In short, Jack had been the Alme, and Harry the Hannifar, of the
domestic scene we have described, the Turkish dress and the ladies'
custom of keeping veiled, immensely assisting them in the imposture.
"Whatever has been the matter here?" asked Jack. "As we were coming
along, we heard a dreadful row outside, and saw a large body of troops
bolting off in a deuce of a hurry."
"Oh, my sons," replied the pasha, in a tone of paternal pathos, "sore
hath been the wretchedness and distress of your afflicted parent. I
wish you had been here, then it could not have happened. I'll tell you
all about it."
Jack and Harry Girdwood had sufficient self-command to listen with
unmoved countenances to Mr. Mole's account of the adventure, and even
to express great surprise and alarm at the harrowing details.
"Shall I write home to Mrs. Mole for you, sir?" said Jack.
"For the Lord's sake, no," cried Mole, in dismay.
Then they tried their best to frighten the old tutor, by suggesting
various deadly schemes of vengeance, which it was very possible the
ladies of his late highness's seraglio might form against Moley Pasha.
"You must never go out without a strong body guard," said Jack, "for at
any time they may have you seized and borne off to the harem."
"And you'll have to take care of yourself even at home," added Harry,
"especially with regard to the food you eat, for in Turkey, those who
owe a grudge think nothing of paying it out in poison."
"Gracious Heaven! don't talk in that way," cried Mole. "you quite make
my blood run cold. I think--I hope--I can trust my guards and my new
attendants."
"I hope so too," replied Jack, shaking his head in grave doubt. "But
you must always bear in mind that treachery is one of the commonest
vices of the East; you can't be too careful."
"Oh, Allah, Allah!" exclaimed Mr. Mole, who had slipped naturally into
a habit of using Turkish interjections; "what a life it is to be a
pasha. I used to think it was all glory and happiness, but now I find,
to my grief, that--if this sort of thing goes on, I shall bolt."
It being now far advanced in the evening, the pasha, wearied out with
the cares and excitements of the day, retired to rest in the Turkish
fashion, half-dressed, and upon a kind of sofa.
His cork legs, of course, were carefully taken off first.
In this Jack and Harry assisted him.
Moley Pasha went to sleep and to dream of bowstrings, scimitars, and
various painful forms of execution.
The next morning, however, he arose more hopeful, and fully resolved to
show himself a vigorous and successful ruler.
In his sumptuous seat in the divan, or hall of audience, Mole began to
feel like a monarch on his throne, and signed his decrees with all the
triumphant flourish of a Napoleon.
It was in the height of this power and glory that there arose a sudden
consternation in court.
Murmurs arose, shouts, mingled with the tramp of many steeds, were
heard outside.
"What's the matter?" asked the pasha. "Who dares to make a disturbance
and disturb the pasha? Officer, command silence."
A deadly stillness fell upon the assembly.
For some few moments one might have heard a pin drop.
But distant shouts in the streets, and the tramp of horses recommenced.
The interpreter and Harry and Jack, who stood on each side of the
pasha, exchanged meaning glances, which partook much of alarm.
Consternation could be perceived on every face in court.
It was evident that something serious was about to occur.
"Whatever is the meaning of this?" cried the pasha, who himself seemed
to feel no suspicion and alarm. "Abdullah, go and see what it means."
The old interpreter at once hurried to the door.
Jack and Harry, as if impelled by resistless curiosity, followed him.
Karam, the chief of the guard, did the same, and many of those about
the court followed in a now excited and expectant group.
At this moment, the shouts outside grew louder and fiercer.
An angry consultation, in which half a dozen at least were engaged, all
talking at once, could be heard, and then Karam, the chief of the
guard, came rushing back with a face full of dismay.
"Your highness----" he gasped.
"Well, Karam, what's the matter?" asked Mole.
"A grand officer, who calls himself Moley Pasha, the same name as your
excellency, is outside with a body of troops, and insists upon
admission."
Mole started from his seat, and almost immediately sank exhausted with
fright and horror.
He saw now the peril in which he stood, and devoutly wished he were
safe at home, and in the arms of Mrs. Mole.
"A--pasha--calling himself Moley!" he exclaimed. "What does he want?"
"He declares he has been appointed to this government by the firman of
his imperial majesty the sultan, and that you--you--pardon, your
highness--are an impostor."
Mole now knew the worst.
It was all up with him.
But desperation inspired him with an artificial courage; he resolved to
die game, and keep it up to the last.
"Tell the so-called Moley Pasha," he exclaimed, "that he is the
impostor. Here, guards, stand round me, and defend your rightful
governor."
The soldiers wavered.
They began to fear that all was not quite right.
Karam, the captain, also hesitated in enforcing the commands of Mole.
At this moment the scale was turned by Abdullah, the interpreter,
rushing into the hall, and thundering forth, to the utter amazement and
consternation of Mole--
"Down with the impostor, my friends. We have all been deceived by this
usurper, who has forged the sacred signature of our mighty sultan."
Shouts of "Down with the impostor!" now resounded on all sides, and a
rush was made to drag Mole from his seat.
Poor Mole, he was entirely defenceless.
Jack and Harry did not return; probably they had been secured by the
enemy.
Mole gave himself up for lost.
He was surrounded by an infuriated crowd, still shouting "Down with the
impostor! Death to the infidel who dares to wear the colours of the
blessed Prophet!"
It seems, indeed, that the luckless Mole would have fallen a sacrifice
to Lynch law, but at this moment the real Moley Pasha, with his troops,
entered the hall, and at once commanded the infuriated crowd to stop,
and relinquish their victim.
"Now," said the real Moley Pasha, "bring before me the stranger who has
so audaciously assumed my title and dignity."
Poor Mole, now a trembling "prisoner at the bar," was brought, bound
and guarded by soldiers, before the magnate whom of late he had defied.
"Prisoner," said the pasha, sternly, "what do you dare to say for
yourself in defence of the crime you have committed?"
Mr. Mole, in the deepest fright and humility, made shift to stammer in
Turkish--
"I don't defend it at all; I--I was egged on to it by that young Jack
Harkaway."
"What's Harkaway?" now inquired the pasha.
"The youth who came with me, and passed as my son, Yakoob, and his
friend Harry Girdwood, or Haroun Pasha."
"Ah! two more impostors; bring them forward," said the pasha.
Search was made for Jack and Harry, but they were nowhere to be found.
In the confusion they had contrived to make good their escape.
"Well, we must make an example of the chief offender," said the pasha.
"Prisoner, I find you have some difficulty in expressing yourself in
our language, which alone should have stamped you as an impostor. I
suppose you speak French?" he added, continuing his interrogation in
that language. "I command you instantly to point out any other
accomplices in this villainous fraud."
"The interpreter, Abdullah, your highness," said Mole, glad to be
avenged upon that worthy.
Here Abdullah came forward, making a gesture of disgust, and turning up
his eyes in pious horror.
"Inshallah! what lies do these dogs speak!" he exclaimed. "I swear to
your highness, by the prophet, that I knew not, suspected not, till
this moment that he was other than he seemed."
"You rascally old villain! you deserve bowstringing for this," cried
Mole.
"Peace!" sternly cried the pasha. "Show me the forgery you dare to call
the firman of his sublime majesty, the sultan."
Mole instantly produced the unlucky document.
The real Moley Pasha instantly compared it with his own.
"An impudent forgery!" he exclaimed, turning to the cadi of the town,
who had now arrived, and was much amazed and dismayed at what had
occurred.
"Pardon me, I entreat, your excellency," said the old cadi. "I trust
you will let this accusation go no further. In any case, my associates
in office were quite as much to blame."
"'Twas this Frankish magician who has befooled us with his spells,"
said several of the town officials.
And they pointed at Mole with fierce and vengeful gestures, which made
him feel certain that his life would be sacrificed to their vengeance.
"I doubt whether it was witchcraft or mere folly," said the pasha, who
was much more enlightened than most of his audience. "It seems to me
that this giaour is very probably the dupe of others. But, in any case,
he must not go unpunished. Prisoner, your crime is proved, and I
sentence you to----"
He paused.
Mole fell on his knees.
"To a week's imprisonment in the first place, which will allow time for
further inquiries to be made, and, if necessary, to communicate and
receive our sublime Master's commands on the matter. Till then you will
be kept in solitary confinement, on bread and water, and closely
guarded."
"Mercy!" Mole found tongue to exclaim. "I trust--I implore that your
highness will at least spare my wretched life, for I declare----"
"Away with him," interrupted the pasha.
So the unhappy Mole was taken off in chains to his dungeon, bread and
water, and horrible anticipations of his ultimate fate.