THE SLAVE OF THE SLAVE-GIRL.
Worthy Halil Patrona had become quite a by-word with his fellows. The
name he now went by in the bazaars was: The Slave of the Slave-Girl.
This did not hurt him in the least; on the contrary, the result was,
that more people came to smoke their chibooks and buy tobacco at his
shop than ever. Everybody was desirous of making the acquaintance of the
Mussulman who would not so much as lay a hand upon a slave-girl whom he
had bought with his own money, nay more, who did all the work of the
house instead of her, just as if she had bought him instead of his
buying her.
In the neighbourhood of Patrona dwelt Musli, a veteran Janissary, who
filled up his spare time by devoting himself to the art of
slipper-stitching. This man often beheld Halil prowling about on the
house-top in the moonlit nights where Gül-Bejáze was sleeping, and after
sitting down within a couple of paces of her, remain there in a brown
study for hours at a time, often till midnight, nay, sometimes till
daybreak. With his chin resting in the palm of his hand there he would
stay, gazing intently at her charming figure and her pale but beautiful
face. Frequently he would creep closer to her, creep so near that his
lips would almost touch her face; but then he would throw back his head
again, and if at such times the slave-girl half awoke from her slumbers,
he would beckon to her to go to sleep again--nobody should disturb her.
Halil did not trouble his head in the least about all this gossip. It
was noticed, indeed, that his face was somewhat paler than it used to
be, but if anyone ventured to jest with him on the subject, face to
face, he was very speedily convinced that Halil's arms, at any rate,
were no weaker than of yore.
One day he was sitting, as usual, at the door of his booth, paying
little attention to the people coming and going around him, and staring
abstractedly with wide and wandering eyes into space, as if his gaze was
fixed upon something above his head, when somebody who had approached
him so softly as to take him quite unawares, very affectionately greeted
him with the words:
"Well, my dear Chorbadshi, how are you?"
Patrona looked in the direction of the voice, and saw in front of him
his mysterious guest of the other day--the Greek Janaki.
"Ah, 'tis thou, musafir! I searched for you everywhere for two whole
days after you left me, for I wanted to give you back the five thousand
piastres which you were fool enough to make me a present of. It was just
as well, however, that I did not find you, and I have long ceased
looking for you, for I have now spent all the money."
"I am glad to hear it, Halil, and I hope the money has done you a good
turn. Are you willing to receive me into your house as a guest once
more?"
"With pleasure! But you must first of all promise me two things. The
first is, that you will not contrive by some crafty device to pay me
something for what I give you gratis; and the second is, that you will
not expect to stay the night with me, but will wander across the street
and pitch your tent at the house of my worthy neighbour Musli, who is
also a bachelor, and mends slippers, and is therefore a very worthy and
respectable man."
"And why may I not sleep at your house?"
"Because you must know that there are now two of us in the house--I and
my slave-girl."
"That will not matter a bit, Halil. I will sleep on the roof, and you
take the slave-girl down with you into the house."
"It cannot be so, Janaki! it cannot be."
"Why can it not be?"
"Because I would rather sleep in a pit into which a tiger has fallen, I
would rather sleep in the lair of a hippopotamus, I would rather sleep
in a canoe guarded by alligators and crocodiles, I would rather spend a
night in a cellar full of scorpions and scolopendras, or in the Tower of
Surem, which is haunted by the accursed Jinns, than pass a single night
in the same room with this slave-girl."
"Why; what's this, Halil? you fill me with amazement. Surely, it cannot
be that you are that Mussulman of whom all Pera is talking?--the man I
mean who purchased a slave-girl in order to be her slave?"
"It is as you say. But 'twere better not to talk of that matter at all.
Those five thousand piastres of yours are the cause of it; they have
ruined me out and out. My mind is going backwards I think. When people
come to my shop to buy wares of me, I give them such answers to their
questions that they laugh at me. Let us change the subject, let us
rather talk of your affairs. Have you found your daughter yet?"
It was now Janaki's turn to sigh.
"I have sought her everywhere, and nowhere can I find her."
"How did you lose her?"
"One Saturday she went with some companions on a pleasure excursion in
the Sea of Marmora in a sailing-boat. Their music and dancing attracted
a Turkish pirate to the spot, and in the midst of a peaceful empire he
stole all the girls, and contrived to dispose of them so secretly that I
have never been able to find any trace of them. I am now disposed to
believe that she was taken to the Sultan's Seraglio."
"You will never get her out of there then."
Janaki sighed deeply.
"You think, then, that I shall never get at her if she is there?" and he
shook his head sadly.
"Not unless the Janissaries, or the Debejis, or the Bostanjis lay their
heads together and agree to depose the Sultan."
"Who would even dare to think of such a thing, Halil?"
"I would if _my_ daughter were detained in the harem against her will
and against mine also. But that is not at all in your line, Janaki. You
have never shed any blood but the blood of sheep and oxen, but let me
tell you this, Janaki: if I were as rich a man as you are, trust me for
finding a way of getting my girl out of the very Seraglio itself. Wealth
is a mightier force than valour."
"I pray you, speak not so loudly. One of your neighbours might hear you,
and would think nothing of felling me to the earth to get my money. For
I carry a great deal of money about with me, and am always afraid of
being robbed of it. In front of the bazaar a slave is awaiting me with a
mule. On the back of that mule are strung two jars seemingly filled with
dried dates. Let me tell you that those jars are really half-filled with
gold pieces, the dates are only at the top. I should like to deposit
them at your house. I suppose your slave-girl will not pry too closely?"
"You can safely leave them with me. If you tell her not to look at them
she will close her eyes every time she passes the jars."
Meanwhile Patrona had closed his booth and invited his guest to
accompany him homewards. On the way thither he looked in at the house of
his neighbour, the well-mannered Janissary, who mended slippers. Musli
willingly offered Halil's guest a night's lodging. In return Patrona
invited him to share with him a small dish of well-seasoned pilaf and a
few cups of a certain forbidden fluid, which invitation the worthy
Janissary accepted with alacrity.
And now they crossed Halil's threshold.
Gül-Bejáze was standing by the fire-place getting ready Halil's supper
when the guests entered, and hearing footsteps turned round to see who
it might be.
The same instant the Greek wayfarer uttered a loud cry, and pitching
his long hat into the air, rushed towards the slave-girl, and flinging
himself down on his knees before her fell a-kissing, again and again,
her hands and arms, and at last her pale face also, while the girl flung
herself upon his shoulder and embraced the fellow's neck; and then the
pair of them began to weep, and the words, "My daughter!" "My father!"
could be heard from time to time amidst their sobs.
Halil could only gaze at them open-mouthed.
But Janaki, still remaining on his knees, raised his hands to Heaven,
and gave thanks to God for guiding his footsteps to this spot.
"Allah Akbar! The Lord be praised!" said Patrona in his turn, and he
drew nearer to them. "So her whom you have so long sought after you find
in my house, eh? Allah preordained it. And you may thank God for it, for
you receive her back from me unharmed by me. Take her away therefore!"
"You say not well, Halil," cried the father, his face radiant with joy.
"So far from giving her back to me you shall keep her; yes, she shall
remain yours for ever. For if I were thrice to traverse the whole earth
and go in a different direction each time, I certainly should not come
across another man like you. Tell me, therefore, what price you put
upon her that I may buy her back, and give her to you to wife as a free
woman?"
Halil did not consider very long what price he should ask, so far as he
was concerned the business was settled already. He cast but a single
look on Gül-Bejáze's smiling lips, and asked for a kiss from them--that
was the only price he demanded.
Janaki seized his daughter's hand and placed it in the hand of Halil.
And now Halil held the warm, smooth little hand in his own big paw, he
felt its reassuring pressure, he saw the girl smile, he saw her lips
open to return his kiss, and still he did not believe his eyes--still he
shuddered at the reflection that when his lips should touch hers, the
girl would suddenly die away, become pale and cold. Only when his lips
at last came into contact with her burning lips and her bosom throbbed
against his bosom, and he felt his kiss returned and the warm pulsation
of her heart, then only did he really believe in his own happiness, and
held her for a long--oh, so long!--time to his own breast, and pressed
his lips to her lips over and over again, and was happier--happier by
far--than the dwellers in Paradise.
And after that they made the girl sit down between them, with her father
on one side and her husband on the other, and they took her hands and
caressed and fondled her to her heart's content. The poor maid was
quite beside herself with delight. She kept receiving kisses and
caresses, first on the right hand and then on the left, and her face was
pale no longer, but of a burning red like the transfigured rose whereon
a drop of the blood of great Aphrodite fell. And she promised her father
and her husband that she would tell them such a lot of things--things
wondrous, unheard of, of which they had not and never could have the
remotest idea.
And through the thin iron shutters which covered the window the
Berber-Bashi curiously observed the touching scene!
They were still in the midst of their intoxication of delight when the
frequently before-mentioned neighbour of Halil, worthy Musli, thrust his
head inside the door, and witnessing the scene would discreetly have
withdrawn his perplexed countenance. But Halil, who had already caught
sight of him, bawled him a vociferous welcome.
"Nay, come along! come along! my worthy neighbour, don't stand on any
ceremony with us, you can see for yourself how merry we are!"
The worthy neighbour thereupon gingerly entered, on the tips of his
toes, with his hands fumbling nervously about in the breast of his
kaftan; for the poor fellow's hands were resinous to a degree. Wash and
scrub them as he might, the resin would persist in cleaving to them. His
awl, too, was still sticking in the folds of his turban--sticking forth
aloft right gallantly like some heron's plume. Naturally he whose
business it was to mend other men's shoes went about in slippers that
were mere bundles of rags--that is always the way with cobblers!
When he saw Gül-Bejáze on Halil's lap, and Halil's face beaming all over
with joy, he smote his hands together and fell a-wondering.
"There must be some great changes going on here!" thought he.
But Halil compelled him to sit down beside them, and after kissing
Gül-Bejáze again--apparently he could not kiss the girl enough--he
cried:
"Look! my dear neighbour! she is now my wife, and henceforth she will
love me as her husband, and I shall no longer be the slave of my slave.
And this worthy man here is my wife's father. Greet them, therefore, and
then be content to eat and drink with us!"
Then Musli approached Janaki and saluted him on the shoulder, then,
turning towards Gül-Bejáze, he touched with his hand first the earth and
next his forehead, sat down beside Janaki on the cushions that had been
drawn into the middle of the room, and made merry with them.
And now Janaki sent the slave he had brought with him to the
pastry-cook's while Musli skipped homewards and brought with him a
tambourine of chased silver, which he could beat right cunningly and
also accompany it with a voice not without feeling; and thus Halil's
bridal evening flowed pleasantly away with an accompaniment of wine and
music and kisses.
And all this time the worthy Berber-Bashi was looking on at this
junketing through the trellised window, and could scarce restrain
himself from giving expression to his astonishment when he perceived
that Gül-Bejáze no longer collapsed like a dead thing at the contact of
a kiss, or even at the pressure of an embrace, as she was wont to do in
the harem, indeed her face had now grown rosier than the dawn.
At last his curiosity completely overcame him, and turning the handle of
the door he appeared in the midst of the revellers.
He wore the garb of a common woodcutter, and his simple, foolish face
corresponded excellently to the disguise. Nobody in the world could have
taken him for anything but what he now professed to be, and it was with
a very humble obeisance that he introduced himself.
"Allah Kerim! Salaam aleikum! God's blessing go with your mirth. Why,
you were so merry that I heard you at the cemetery yonder as I was
passing. If it will not put you out I should be delighted to remain
here, as long as you will let me, that I may listen to the music this
worthy Mussulman here understands so well, and to the pretty stories
which flow from the harmonious lips of this houri who has, I am
persuaded, come down from Paradise for the delight of men."
Now Musli was drunk with wine, Gül-Bejáze and Halil Patrona were drunk
with love, so that not one of them had any exception to take to the
stranger's words. Janaki was the only sober man among them, neither wine
nor love had any attraction for him, and therefore he whispered in the
ear of Halil:
"For all you know this stranger may be a spy or a thief!"
"What an idea!" Halil whispered back, "why you can see for yourself that
he is only an honest baltaji.[1] Sit down, oh, worthy Mussulman," he
continued, turning to the stranger, "and make one of our little party."
The Berber-Bashi took him at his word. He ate and drank like one who has
gone hungry for three whole days, he was enchanted with the tambourine
of Musli, listened with open mouth to his story of the miserly slippers,
and laughed as heartily as if he had never heard it at least a hundred
times before.
"And now you tell us some tale, most beautiful of women!" said he,
wiping the tears from his eyes as he turned towards the damsel, and then
Gül-Bejáze, after first kissing her husband and sipping from the beaker
extended to her just enough to moisten her lips, thus began:
"Once upon a time there was a rich merchant. Where he lived I know not.
It might have been Pera, or Galata, or Damascus. Nor can I tell you his
name, but that has nothing to do with the story. This merchant had an
only daughter whom he loved most dearly. She had ne'er a wish that was
not instantly gratified, and he guarded her as the very apple of his
eye. Not even the breath of Heaven was allowed to blow upon her."
"And know you not what the name of the maiden was?" inquired the
Berber-Bashi.
"Certainly, they called her Irene, for she was a Greek girl."
Janaki trembled at the word. No doubt the girl was about to relate her
own story, for Irene was the very name she had received at her baptism.
It was very thoughtless of her to betray herself in the presence of a
stranger.
"One day," continued the maiden, "Irene went a-rowing on the sea with
some girl friends. The weather was fine, the sea smooth, and they sang
their songs and made merry, to their hearts' content. Suddenly the sail
of a corsair appeared on the smooth mirror of the ocean, pounced
straight down upon the maidens in their boat, and before they could
reach the nearest shore, they were all seized and carried away captive.
"Poor Irene! she was not even able to bid her dear father God speed! Her
thoughts were with him as the pirate-ship sped swiftly away with her,
and she saw the city where he dwelt recede further and further away in
the dim distance. Alas! he was waiting for her now--and would wait in
vain! Her father, she knew it, was standing outside his door and asking
every passer-by if he had not seen his little daughter coming. A banquet
had been prepared for her at home, and all the invited guests were
already there, but still no sign of her! And now she could see him
coming down to the sea-shore, and sweep the smooth shining watery mirror
with his eyes in every direction, and ask the sailor-men: 'Where is my
daughter? Do you know anything about her?'"
Here the eyes of the father and the husband involuntarily filled with
tears.
"Wherefore do you weep? How silly of you! Why, you know, of course, it
is only a tale. Listen now to how it goes on! The robber carried the
maiden he had stolen to Stambul. He took her straight to the Kizlar-Aga
whose office it is to purchase slave-girls for the harem of the
Padishah. The bargaining did not take long. The Kizlar-Aga paid down at
once the price which the slave-merchant demanded, and forthwith handed
Irene over to the slave-women of the Seraglio, who immediately conducted
her to a bath fragrant with perfumes. Her face, her figure, her charms,
amazed them exceedingly, and they lifted up their voices and praised her
loudly. But when Irene heard their praises she shuddered, and her heart
died away within her. Surely God never gave her beauty in order that she
might be sacrificed to it? At that moment she would have much preferred
to have been born humpbacked, squinting, swarthy; she would have liked
her face to be all seamed and scarred like half-frozen water, and her
body all diseased so that everyone who saw her would shrink from her
with disgust--better that than the feeling which now made her shrink
from the contemplation of herself."
Then they put upon her a splendid robe, hung diamond ear-rings in her
ears, tied a beautiful shawl round her loins, encircled her arms and
feet with rings of gold, and so led her into the secret apartment where
the damsels of the Padishah were all gathered together. This, of course,
was long, long ago. Who can tell what Sultan was reigning then? Why,
even our fathers did not know his name.
"Pomp and splendour, flowers and curtains adorned the immense saloon,
the ceiling whereof was inlaid with precious stones, while the floor was
fashioned entirely of mother-o'-pearl--he who set his foot thereon might
fancy he was walking on rainbows. Moreover, cunning artificers had
wrought upon this mother-o'-pearl floor flowers and birds and other most
wondrous fantastical figures, so that it was a joy to look thereon, for
no carpet, however precious, was suffered to cover all this splendour.
Yet lest the cold surface of the pavement should chill the feet of the
damsels, rows of tiny sandals stood ready there that they might bind
them upon their feet and so walk from one end of the room to the other
at their ease. And these sandals they called _kobkobs_."
"Aye, aye!" cried the anxious Janaki, "you describe the interior of the
Seraglio so vividly that I almost feel frightened. If a man listened
long enough to such a tale he might easily get to feel as guilty as if
he had actually cast an eye into the Sultan's harem, and 'twere best for
him to die rather than do that."
"Is it not a tale that I am telling you? is not the room I have just
described to you but a creature of the imagination?--In the centre of
this saloon, then, was a large fountain, whence fragrant rose-water
ascended into the air sporting with the golden balls. Along the whole
length of the walls were immense Venetian mirrors, in which splendid
odalisks admired their own shapely limbs. Hundreds and hundreds of lamps
shone upon the pillars which supported the room--lamps of manifold
colours--which gave to the vast chamber the magic hues of a fairy
palace, and in the midst thereof seemed to float a transparent blue
cloud--it was the light smoke of ambergris and spices which the damsels
blew forth from their long narghilis. But what impressed Irene far more
than all this magnificence, was the figure of the Sultana Asseki, to
whom she was now conducted. A tall, muscular lady was sitting at the end
of the room on a raised divan. Her figure was slender round the waist
but broad and round about the shoulders. Her snow-white arms and neck
were encircled by rows of real pearls with diamond clasps. A lofty
heron's plume nodded on her bejewelled turban, and lent a still
haughtier aspect to that majestic form. With her large black eyes she
seemed to be in the habit of ruling the whole world."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Janaki, "you describe it all so vividly, that I am
half afraid of sitting down here and listening to you. You might at
least have let a little bit of a veil hang in front of her face."
"But this happened long, long ago, remember! Who can even say under what
Sultan it took place?... So they led the slave-girl into the presence
of the Sultana, who was surrounded by two hundred other slave-girls, and
was playing with a tiny dwarf. They were singing and dancing all around
her and swinging censers. Above her head was a large fruit-tree made
entirely of sugar, and covered with sugar-fruit of every shape and hue,
and from time to time the Sultana would pluck off one of these fruits
and taste a little bit of it and give the remainder to the tiny dwarf,
who ate up everything greedily. Here Irene was seized by a black
eunuch--a horrid, pockmarked man, whose upper lip was split right down
so that all his teeth could be seen."
"Just like the present Kizlar-Aga!" cried Musli laughing, "I fancy I can
see him standing before me now!"
"The Moor commanded Irene to fall on her face before the Sultana. Irene
fell on her face accordingly, and while her forehead beat the ground
before the Sultana she muttered to herself the words: 'Holy Mother of
God! protectress of virgins, thou seest me in this place, when I call
upon thee, deliver me!' The Sultana, meanwhile, had commanded her
handmaidens to let down Irene's tresses, and as she stood before her
there covered by her own hair from head to heel, she bade them paint her
face red because it was so pale, and her eyelashes brown. She commanded
them also to salve her hair with fragrant unguents, and to hang chains
of real pearls about her arms and neck. Irene knew not the meaning of
these things. She knew not what they meant to do with her till the
Kizlar-Aga approached her, and said these words to her in a reassuring
tone: 'Rejoice, fortunate damsel! for a great felicity awaits thee. In a
week's time it will be the Feast of Bairam, and the favourite Sultana
has chosen thee from among the other odalisks as a gift for the
Padishah. Rejoice, therefore, I say.' But Irene at these words would
fain have died. And in the meantime the Sultana had placed a large fan
in her hand made entirely of pea-cocks' feathers, and permitted her to
sit down by her side and hold the little dwarf in her lap. At a later
day Irene discovered that this was a mark of supreme condescension.
During the next six days the damsel lived amidst mortal terrors. Her
companions envied her. The damsels of the harem do not love each other,
they can only hate. Every day she beheld the Sultan, whose gentle face
inspired involuntary respect, but the very idea of loving him filled her
soul with horror. The Sultan spent the greater part of his time with his
favourite wife, but it happened sometimes that he cast a handkerchief
towards this or that odalisk, which was a great piece of good fortune
for her, or the reverse--it all depends upon the point of view. The
damsel whom the Grand Seignior seemed to favour the most was a beautiful
blonde Italian girl; on one occasion this beautiful blonde damsel
neglected to cast her eyes down as they chanced to encounter the eyes of
the Sultana. The following day Irene could not see this damsel anywhere,
and on inquiring after her was told by her bedfellow in a whisper that
she had been strangled during the night. And oftentimes at dead of night
the silence would be broken by a shriek from the secret dungeon of the
Seraglio, followed by the sound of something splashing into the water,
and regularly, on the day following every such occurrence, a familiar
face would be missing from the Seraglio. All these victims were
self-confident slave-girls, who had been unable to conceal their joy at
the Sultan's favours, and therefore had been cast into the water. Nobody
ever inquired about them any more."
Janaki shivered all over.
"It is well that this is all a tale," he observed.
But Gül-Bejáze only continued her story.
"At last the Feast of Bairam arrived, and throughout the day all the
cannons on the Bosphorus sent forth their thunders. In the evening the
Sultan came to the Seraglio weary and inclined to relaxation, and then
the Sultana Asseki took Irene by the hand and conducted her to the
Padishah, and presented her to him, together with gold-embroidered
garments, preserved fruits, and other gifts intended for his
delectation. The Grand Seignior regarded the girl tenderly, while she,
like a kid of the flocks offered to a lion in a cage, stood trembling
before him. But when the Sultan seized her hand to draw her towards him
she sighed: 'Blessed Virgin!'--and lo! at these words her face grew
pale, her eyes closed, and she fell to the ground as one dead. This was
not the first time that such a spectacle had been seen in the harem.
Everyone of the damsels brought thither generally commenced with a
fainting-fit. The slave-girls immediately came running up to her, rubbed
her body with fragrant unguents, applied penetrating essences to her
face, let icy-cold water trickle down upon her bosom--and all was
useless! The damsel did not awaken, and lay there like a corpse till the
following morning--in fact, she never stirred from the spot where they
laid her down. Next day the Padishah again summoned her to his presence.
He spoke to her in the most tender manner. He gave her all manner of
beautiful gifts, glittering raiment, necklaces, bracelets, and diamond
aigrettes. The slave-girls, too, censed her all around with stupefying
perfumes, bathed her in warm baths fragrant with ambergris and
spikenard, and gave her fiery potions to drink. But it was all in vain.
At the name of the Blessed Virgin, the blood ceased to flow to her
heart, she fell down, died away, and every resource of ingenuity failed
to arouse her. The same thing happened on the third day likewise. Then
the Sultana Asseki's wrath was kindled greatly against her. She declared
that this was no doing of Allah's as they might suppose. No, it was the
damsel's own evil temper which made her pretend to be dead, and she
immediately commanded that the damsel should be tortured. First of all
they extended her stark naked on the icy-cold marble pavement--not a
sign of life, not a shiver did she give. Then they held her over a slow
fire on a gridiron--she never moved a muscle. Then they sent and sought
for red ants in the garden among the puspáng-trees and scattered them
all over her body. Yet the girl never once quaked beneath the stings of
the poisonous insects. Finally they thrust sharp needles down to the
very quicks of her nails, and still the damsel did not stir. Then the
Sultana Asseki, full of fury, seized a whip, and lashed away at the
damsel's body till she could lash no more, yet she could not thrash a
soul into the lifeless body."
"By Allah!" cried Halil, smiting the table with his heavy fist at this
point of the narration, "that Sultana deserves to be sewn up in a
leather sack and cast into the Bosphorus."
"Why, 'tis only a tale, you know," said Gül-Bejáze, stroking mockingly
the chin of worthy Halil Patrona, and then she resumed her story. "The
Sultan commanded that Irene should be expelled from the harem, for he
had no desire to see this living corpse anywhere near him, and the
Sultana gave her as a present to the Padishah's nephew, the son of his
own brother.
"The prince was a pale, handsome youth, as those whom women love much
are generally wont to be. He was kept in a remote part of the Seraglio,
for although every joy of life was his, and he was surrounded by wealth,
pomp, and slave-girls, he was never permitted to quit the Seraglio. The
Sultana herself led Irene to him, thinking that the fine eyes of the
handsome youth would be the best talisman against the enchantment
obsessing the charms of the strange damsel. The pale prince was charmed
with the looks of the girl. He coaxed and flattered. He begged and
implored her not to die away beneath his kisses and embraces. In vain.
The girl swooned at the very first touch, and he who touched her lips
might just as well have touched the lips of a corpse. The prince knelt
down beside her, and implored her with tears to come to herself again.
She heard not and she answered not. At last the fair Sultana Asseki
herself had compassion on his tears and lamentations which produced no
impression on the dead. Her heart bled for him. She bent over the pale
prince, embraced him tenderly, and comforted him with her caresses. And
the prince allowed himself to be comforted, and they rejoiced greatly
together; for of course there was nobody present to see them, for the
senseless damsel on the floor might have been a corpse so far as they
were concerned."
"Hum!" murmured the Berber-Bashi to himself, "this is a thing well worth
remembering."
"On the following day the pale prince made a present of Irene to the
Grand Vizier. The Grand Vizier also rejoiced greatly at the sight of the
damsel; took her into his cellar, showed her there three great vats full
of gold and precious stones, and told her that all these things should
be hers if only she would love him. Then he took and showed her the
multitude of precious ornaments that he had concealed beneath the
flooring of his palace, and promised these to her also. For every kiss
she should give him, he offered her one of his palaces on the shores of
the Sweet Waters, yes, for every kiss a palace."
"I would burn all these palaces to the ground!" cried Halil impetuously.
"Nay, nay, my son, be sensible!" said Janaki. He himself now began to
feel that there was something more than a mere tale in all this.
But the Berber-Bashi pricked up his ears and grew terribly attentive
when mention was made of the hidden treasures of the Grand Vizier.
"The sight of the treasures," resumed the girl, "had no effect upon
Irene. She never failed to invoke the name of the Blessed Virgin
whenever the face of a man drew near to her face, and the Blessed Virgin
always wrought a miracle in her behalf."
"'Tis my belief," said Halil, "that there were no miracles at all in the
matter; but that the girl had so strong a will that by an effort she
made herself dead to all tortures."
"At last they came to a definite decision concerning this slave-girl, it
was resolved to sell her by public auction in the bazaars--to sell her
as a common slave to the highest bidder. And so Irene fell to a poor
hawker who gave his all for her. For a whole month this man left his
slave-girl untouched, and the girl who could not be subdued by torture,
nor the blandishments of great men, nor by treasures, nor by ardent
desire, became very fond of the poor costermonger, and no longer became
as one dead when _his_ burning lips were impressed upon her face."
And with that Gül-Bejáze embraced her husband and kissed him again and
again, and smiled upon him with her large radiant eyes.
"A very pretty story truly!" observed Musli, smacking his lips; "what a
pity there is not more of it!"
"Oh, no regrets, worthy Mussulman, there _is_ more of it!" cried the
Berber-Bashi, rising from his place; "just listen to the sequel of it!
Having had the girl sold by auction in the bazaar, the Padishah bade Ali
Kermesh, his trusty Berber-Bashi, make inquiries and see what happened
to the damsel _after_ the sale. Now the Berber-Bashi knew that the girl
had only pretended to faint, and the Berber-Bashi brought the girl back
to the Seraglio before she had spent a single night alone with her
husband. For I am the Berber-Bashi and thou art Gül-Bejáze, that same
slave-girl going by the name of Irene who feigned to be dead."
Everyone present leaped in terror to his feet except Janaki, who fell
down on his knees before the Berber-Bashi, embraced his knees, and
implored him to treat all that the girl had said as if he had not heard
it.
"We are lost!" whispered the bloodless Gül-Bejáze. The intoxication of
joy and wine had suddenly left her and she was sober once more.
Janaki implored, Musli cursed and swore, but Halil spake never a word.
He held his wife tightly embraced in his arms and he thought within
himself, I would rather allow my hand to be chopped off than let her go.
Janaki promised money and loads of treasure to Ali Kermesh if only he
would hold his tongue, say nothing of what had happened, and let the
girl remain with her husband.
But the Berber-Bashi was inexorable.
"No," said he, "I will take away the girl, and your treasures also shall
be mine. Ye are the children of Death; yea, all of you who are now
drawing the breath of life in this house, for to have heard the secret
that this slave-girl has blabbed out is sufficient to kill anyone thrice
over. I command you, Irene, to take up your veil and follow me, and you
others must remain here till the Debedzik with the cord comes to fetch
you also."
With these words he cast Janaki from him, approached the damsel and
seized her hand. Halil never once relaxed his embrace.
"Come with me!"
"Blessed Mary! Blessed Mary!" moaned the girl.
"Your guardian saints are powerless to help you now, for your husband's
lips have touched you; come with me!"
Then only did Halil speak. His voice was so deep, gruff, and stern, that
those who heard it scarce recognised it for his:
"Leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!" cried he.
"Silence thou dog! in another hour thou wilt be hanging up before thine
own gate."
"Once more I ask you--leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!"
Instead of answering, the Berber-Bashi would, with one hand, have torn
the wife from her husband's bosom while he clutched hold of Halil with
the other, whereupon Halil brought down his fist so heavily on the skull
of the Berber-Bashi that he instantly collapsed without uttering a
single word.
"What have you done?" cried Janaki in terror. "You have killed the chief
barber of the Sultan!"
"Yes, I rather fancy I have," replied Halil coolly.
Musli rushed towards the prostrate form of Ali Kermesh, felt him all
over very carefully, and then turned towards the hearth where the others
were sitting.
"Dead he is, there is no doubt about it. He's as dead as a door-nail.
Well, Halil, that was a fine blow of yours I must say. By the Prophet!
one does not see a blow like that every day. With your bare hand too! To
kill a man with nothing but your empty fist! If a cannon-ball had
knocked him over he could not be deader than he is."
"But what shall we do now?" cried Janaki, looking around him with
tremulous terror. "The Sultan is sure to send and make inquiries about
his lost Berber-Bashi. It is known that he came here in disguise. The
affair cannot long remain hidden."
"There is no occasion to fear anything," said Musli reassuringly. "Good
counsel is cheap. We can easily find a way out of it. Before the
business comes to light, we will go to the Etmeidan and join the
Janissaries. There let them send and fetch us if they dare, for we shall
be in a perfectly safe place anyhow. Why, don't you remember that only
last year the rebel, Esref Khan, whom the Padishah had been pursuing to
the death, even in foreign lands, hit, at last, upon the idea of
resorting to the Janissaries, and was safer against the fatal silken
cord here, in the very midst of Stambul, than if he had fled all the way
to the Isle of Rhodes for refuge. Let us all become Janissaries, I and
you and Janaki also."
But Janaki kicked vigorously against the proposition.
"You two may go over to the Janissaries if you like, but in the meantime
my daughter and I will make our escape to the Isle of Tenedos and there
await tidings of you. One jar of dates I will take with me, the other
you may divide among the Janissaries; it will put them in a good humour
and make them receive you more amicably."
Halil embraced his wife, kissed her, and wept over her. There was not
much time for leave-taking. The Debedjis who had accompanied the
Berber-Bashi were beginning to grow impatient at the prolonged absence
of their master; they could be heard stamping about around the door.
"Hasten, hasten! we can have too much of this hugging and kissing,"
whispered Musli, lifting one of the jars on to his shoulders.
Yet Halil pressed one more long, long kiss on Gül-Bejáze's trembling
cheek.
"By Allah!" said he, "it shall not be long before we see each other
again."
And thus their ways parted right and left.
Musli conducted Janaki away in one direction, through a subterranean
cellar, whilst Halil fled away across the house-tops, and within a
quarter of an hour the pair of them arrived at the Etmeidan.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Woodcutter.