A TOPSY-TURVY WORLD.
Halil Patrona was already the master of Stambul.
The rebel leaders had assembled together in the central mosque, and from
thence distributed their commands.
At the sixth hour (according to Christian calculation ten o'clock in the
evening) the ship arrived bearing the Sultan, the princes, the magnates,
and the sacred banner, and cast anchor beside the coast kiosk at the
Gate of Cannons.
Inside the Seraglio none knew anything of the position of affairs. All
through the city a great commotion prevailed with the blowing of horns,
in the cemetery bivouac fires had been everywhere lighted.
"Why cannot I send a couple of grenades among them from the sea?" sighed
the Kapudan Pasha, "that would quiet them immediately, I warrant."
As the Kizlar-Aga, Elhaj Beshir, came face to face with the newly
arrived ministers in the ante-chamber where the Mantle of the Prophet
was jealously guarded, he rubbed his hands together with an enigmatical
smile which ill became his coarse, brutal countenance and cloven lips,
and when the Padishah asked him what the rebels wanted, he replied that
he really did not know.
That smile of his, that rubbing of the hands, which had been robbed of
their thumbs by the savage cruelty of a former master for some piece of
villainy or other--these things were premonitions of evil to all the
officials present.
Elhaj Beshir Aga had now held his office for fourteen years, during
which time he had elevated and deposed eight Grand Viziers.
And now, how were the demands of the rebels to be discovered?
Damad Ibrahim suggested that the best thing to do was to summon Sulali
Hassan, a former cadi of Stambul, whose name he had heard mentioned by
the town-crier along with that of Halil Patrona.
They found Sulali in his summer house, and at the first summons he
appeared in the Seraglio. He declared that the rebels had been playing
fast and loose with his name, and that he knew nothing whatever of their
wishes.
"Then take with you the Chaszeki Aga and twenty bostanjis, and go in
search of Halil Patrona, and find out what he wants!" commanded the
Padishah.
"It is a pity to give worthy men unnecessary trouble, most glorious
Sultan," said Abdi Pasha bitterly. "I am able to tell you what the
rebels want, for I have seen it all written up on the walls. They demand
the delivery of four of the great officers of state--myself, the Chief
Mufti, the Grand Vizier, and the Kiaja. Surrender us then, O Sultan! yet
surrender us not alive! but slay us first and then their mouths will be
stopped. Let them glut their appetites on us. You know that no wild
beast is savage when once it has been well fed."
The Sultan pretended not to hear these words. He did not even look up
when the Kapudan spoke.
"Seek out Halil Patrona!" he said to the Chaszeki Aga, "and greet him in
the name of the Padishah!"
What! Greet Halil Patrona in the name of the Padishah! Greet that petty
huckster in the name of the master of many empires, in the name of the
Prince of Princes, Shahs, Khans, and Deys, the dominator of Great
Moguls! Who would have believed in the possibility of such a thing three
days ago?
"Greet Halil Patrona in my name," said the Sultan, "and tell him that I
will satisfy all his just demands, if he promises to dismiss his forces
immediately afterwards."
The Chaszeki Aga and Sulali Hassan, with the twenty bostanjis, forced
their way through the thick crowd which thronged the streets till they
reached the central mosque. Only nine of the twenty bostanjis were
beaten to death by the mob on the way, the eleven others were fortunate
enough to reach the mosque at least alive.
There, on a camel-skin spread upon the ground, sat Halil, the rebel
leader, like a second Dzhengis Khan, dictating his orders and
nominations to the softas sitting before him, whom he had appointed his
teskeredjis.
When the Janissaries on guard informed him that the Sultan's Chaszeki
Aga had arrived and wanted to speak to him, he drily replied:
"He can wait. I must attend to worthier men than he first of all."
And who, then, were these worthier men?
Well, first of all there was the old master-cobbler, Suleiman, whom they
had dragged by force from his house where he had been hiding under the
floor. Halil now ordered a document to be drawn up, whereby he elevated
him to the rank of Reis-Effendi.
Halil Patrona, by the way, was still wearing his old Janissary uniform,
the blue dolman with the salavari reaching to the knee, leaving the
calves bare. The only difference was that he now wore a white heron's
feather in his hat instead of a black one, and by his side hung the
sword of the Grand Vizier, whose palace in the Galata suburb he had
levelled to the ground only an hour before.
It was with the signet in the hilt of this sword that Halil was now
sealing all the public documents issued by him.
After Suleiman came Muhammad the saddle-maker. He was a sturdy, muscular
fellow, who could have held his own against any two or three ordinary
men. Him Halil appointed Aga.
Then came a ciaus called Orli, whom he made chief magistrate. Ibrahim, a
whilom schoolmaster, who went by the name of "the Fool," he made chief
Cadi of Stambul, and then catching sight of Sulali, he beckoned him
forth from among the ciauses and said to him:
"Thou shalt be the Governor-General of Anatolia."
Sulali bowed to the ground by way of acknowledgment of such
graciousness.
"I thank thee, Halil! Make of me what thou wilt, but listen, first of
all, to the message of the Padishah which he has entrusted to me, for I
am in very great doubt whether it be thou or Sultan Achmed who is now
Lord of all the Moslems. Tell me, therefore, what thou dost require of
the Sultan, and if thy demands be lawful and of good report they shall
be granted, provided that thou dost promise to disperse thy following."
Then Halil Patrona stood up before the Sulali, and with a severe and
motionless countenance answered:
"Our demands are few and soon told. We demand the delivery to us of the
four arch-traitors who have brought disaster upon the realm. They are
the Kul Kiaja, the Kapudan Pasha, the Chief Mufti, and the Grand
Vizier."
Sulali fell to shaking his head.
"You ask much, Halil!"
"I ask much, you say. To-morrow I shall ask still more. If you agree to
my terms, to-morrow there shall be peace. But if you come again to me
to-morrow, then there will be peace neither to-morrow nor any other
morrow."
Sulali returned to the Sultan and his ministers who were still all
assembled together.
Full of suspense they awaited the message of Halil.
Sulali dared not say it all at once. Only gradually did he let the cat
out of the bag.
"I have found out the demands of the insurgents," said he. "They demand
that the Kiaja Beg be handed over to them."
The Kiaja suddenly grew paler than a wax figure.
"Such a faithful old servant as he has been to me too," sighed Achmed.
"Well, well, hand him over, and now I hope they will be satisfied."
With tottering footsteps the Kiaja stepped among the bostanjis.
"They demand yet more," said Sulali.
"What! more?"
"They demand the Kapudan Pasha."
"Him also. My most valiant seaman!" exclaimed Achmed sorrowfully.
"Mashallah!" cried the Kapudan cheerfully, "I am theirs," and with a
look of determined courage he stepped forth and also joined the
bostanjis. "Weep not on my account, oh Padishah! A brave man is always
ready to die a heroic death in the place of danger, and shall I not,
moreover, be dying in your defence? Hale us away, bostanjis; do not
tremble, my sons. Which of you best understands to twist the string?
Come, come, fear nothing, I will show you myself how to arrange the
silken cord properly. Long live the Sultan!"
And with that he quitted the room, rather leading the bostanjis than
being led by them, he did not even lay aside his sword.
"Then, too, they demanded the Grand Vizier and the Chief Mufti," said
Sulali.
The Sultan, full of horror, rose from his place.
"No, no, it cannot be. You must have heard their words amiss. He from
whom you required an answer must needs have been mad, he spoke in his
wrath. What! I am to slay the Grand Vizier and the Chief Mufti? Slay
them, too, for faults which I myself have committed--faults against
which they wished to warn me? Why, their blood would cry to Heaven
against me. Go back, Sulali, and say to Halil that I beg, I implore him
not to insist that these two grey heads shall roll in the dust. Let it
suffice him if they are deprived of their offices and banished from the
realm, for indeed they are guiltless. Entreat him, also, for the Kiaja
and the Kapudan; they shall not be surrendered until you return."
Again Sulali sought out Halil. He durst not say a word concerning the
Kiaja and the Kapudan. He knew that it was the Kapudan who had seized
upon Halil's wife when she was attempting to escape by sea, and that it
was the Kiaja who had had her shut up in the dungeon set apart for
shameless women. He confined himself therefore to pleading for the Grand
Vizier and the Chief Mufti.
Halil reflected. The incidents which had happened in the palace by the
Sweet Waters all passed through his mind. He bethought him how Damad
Ibrahim had forced his embraces upon Gül-Bejáze, and compelled her to
resort to the stratagem of the death-swoon, and he gave no heed to what
Sulali said about sparing Ibrahim's grey beard.
"The Grand Vizier must die," he answered. "As for Abdullah, he may
remain alive, but he must be banished." After all, Abdullah had done no
harm to Gül-Bejáze.
Sulali returned to the Seraglio.
"Halil permits the Chief Mufti to live, but he demands death for the
three others," said he.
At these words Achmed sprang from the divan like a lion brought to bay
and drew his sword.
"Come hither, then, valiant rebels, as ye are!" cried he. "If you want
the heads of my servants, come for them, and take them from me. No, not
a drop of their blood will I give you, and if you dare to come for them
ye shall see that the sword of Mohammed has still an edge upon it.
Unfurl the banner of the Prophet in front of the gate of the Seraglio.
Let all true believers cleave to me. Send criers into all the streets to
announce that the Seraglio is in danger, and let all to whom the
countenance of Allah is dear hasten to the defence of the Banner! I will
collect the bostanjis and defend the gates of the Seraglio."
The two grey beards kissed the Sultan's hand. If this manly burst of
emotion had only come a little earlier, the page of history would have
borne a very different record of Sultan Achmed.
The Banner of Danger was immediately hung out in the central gate of the
Seraglio, and there it remained till early the next evening.
At dawn the criers returned and reported that they had not been able to
get beyond the mosque of St. Sophia, and that the people had responded
to their crying with showers of stones.
The Green Banner waved all by itself in front of the Seraglio. Nobody
assembled beneath it, even the wind disdained to flutter it, languidly
it drooped upon its staff.
The unfurling of the Green Banner on the gate of the Seraglio is a rare
event in history. As a rule it only happens in the time of greatest
danger, for it signifies that the time has come for every true Mussulman
to quit hearth and home, his shop and his plough, snatch up his weapons,
and hasten to the assistance of Allah and his Anointed, and accursed
would be reckoned every male Osmanli who should hesitate at such a time
to lay down his life and his estate at the feet of the Padishah.
Knowing this to be so, imagine then the extremity of terror into which
the dwellers in the Seraglio were plunged when they saw that not a
single soul rallied beneath the exposed banner. The criers promised a
gratuity of thirty piastres to every soldier who hastened to range
himself beneath the banner, and two piastres a day over and above the
usual pay. And some five or six fellows followed them, but as many as
came in on one side went away again on the other, and in the afternoon
not a single soul remained beneath the banner.
Towards evening the banner was hoisted on to the second gate beneath
which were the dormitories of the high officers of state. The generals
meanwhile slept in the Hall of Audience, Damadzadi lay sick in the
apartment of Prince Murad, and the Mufti and the Ulemas remained in the
barracks of the bostanjis. Sultan Achmed did not lie down all night
long, but wandered about from room to room, impatiently inquiring after
news outside. He asked whether anyone had come from the host to his
assistance? whether the people were assembling beneath the Sacred Green
Banner? and the cold sweat stood out upon his forehead when, in reply to
all his questions, he only received one crushing answer after another.
The watchers placed on the roof of the palace signified that the bivouac
fires of the insurgents were now much nearer than they had been the
night before, and that in the direction of Scutari not a single
watch-fire was visible, from which it might be suspected that the army
had broken up its camp, returned to Stambul, and made common cause with
the insurgents.
Achmed himself ascended to the roof to persuade himself of the truth of
these assertions, and wandered in a speechless agony of grief from
apartment to apartment, constantly looking to see whether the Kiaja,
the Kapudan, and the Grand Vizier were asleep or awake. Only the Kapudan
Pasha was able to sleep at all. The Kiaja was all of an ague with
apprehension, and the Grand Vizier was praying, not for himself indeed,
but for the Sultan. At last even the Kapudan was sorry for the Sultan
who was so much distressed on their account.
"Why dost thou keep waking us so often, oh, my master?" said he, "we are
still alive as thou seest. Go and sleep in thy harem and trouble not thy
soul about us any more, it is only the rebels who have to do with us
now. Allah Kerim! Look upon us as already sleeping the sleep of
eternity. At the trump of the Angel of the Resurrection we also shall
arise like the rest."
And Achmed listened to the words of the Kapudan, and at dawn of day
vanished from amongst them. When they sought him in the early morning he
had not yet come forth from his harem.
The four dignitaries knew very well what that signified.
Early in the morning, when the dawn was still red, Sulali Effendi and
Ispirizade came for the Chief Mufti, and invited him to say the morning
prayer with them.
The Ulemas were already all assembled together, and at the sight of them
Abdullah burst into tears and sobs, and said to them in the midst of
his lamentations:
"Behold, I have brought my grey beard hither, and if it pleases you not
that it has grown white in all pure and upright dealing, take it now and
wash it in my blood; and if ye think that the few days Allah hath given
me to be too many, then take me and put an end to them."
Then all the Ulemas stood up and, raising their hands, exclaimed:
"Allah preserve thee from this evil thing!"
Then they threw themselves down on their faces to pray, and when they
had made an end of praying, they assembled in the kiosk of Erivan in the
inner garden where the Grand Vizier already awaited them. Not long
afterwards arrived the Kiaja and the Kapudan Pasha also, last of all
came the sick Damadzadi and the Cadi of Medina, Mustafa Effendi, and
Segban Pasha.
"Ye see a dead man before you," said the Grand Vizier, Damad Ibrahim, to
the freshly arrived dignitaries. "I am lost. We are the four victims.
The Chief Mufti perhaps may save his life, but we three others shall not
see the dawn of another day. It cannot be otherwise. The Sultan must be
saved, and saved he only can be at the price of our lives."
"I said that long ago," observed the Kapudan Pasha. "Our corpses ought
to have been delivered up to the rebels yesterday, I fear it is already
too late, I fear me that the Sultan is lost anyhow. The Banner of
Affliction ought never to have been exposed at all, we should have been
slain there and then."
"You three withdraw into the Chamber of the Executioners," said the
Grand Vizier to his colleagues, "but wait for me till the Kizlar-Aga
arrives to demand from me the seals of office, till then I must perform
my official duties."
The three ministers then took leave of Damad Ibrahim, embraced each
other, and were removed in the custody of the bostanjis.
It was now the duty of the Grand Vizier to elect a new Chief Mufti from
among the Ulemas. The Ulemas, first of all, chose Damadzadi, but he
declining the dignity on the plea of illness, they chose in his stead
the Cadi of Medina, and for want of a white mantle invested him with a
green one.
After that they elected from amongst themselves Seid Mohammed and
Damadzadi, to receive the secret message of the Sultan from the
Kizlar-Aga and deliver it to Halil Patrona.
Damad Ibrahim was well aware of the nature of this secret message, and
thanked Allah for setting a term to the life of man.
* * * * *
Meanwhile Sultan Achmed was sitting in the Hall of Delectation with the
beautiful Adsalis by his side, and in front of him were the four tulips
which Abdi Pasha had presented to him the day before.
The four tulips were now in full bloom.
Adsalis had thrown her arms round the Sultan's neck, and was kissing his
forehead as if she would charm away from his soul the thoughts which
suffered him not to rest, or rejoice, or to love.
He had an eye for nothing but the tulips before him, which he could not
protect or cherish sufficiently. He scarce noticed that Elhaj Beshir,
the Kizlar-Aga, was standing before him with a long MS. parchment
stretched out in his hand.
"Master," cried the Kizlar-Aga, "deign to read the answer which the
Ulemas are sending to Halil Patrona, and if it be according to thy will
give it the confirmation of thy signature."
"What do they require?" asked the Sultan softly, withdrawing, as he
spoke, a tiny knife from his girdle, with the point of which he began
picking away at the earth all round the tulips in order to make it
looser and softer.
"The rebels demand a full assurance that they will not be persecuted in
the future for what they have done in the past."
"Be it so!"
"Next they demand that the Kiaja Aga be handed over to them."
The Sultan cut off one of the tulips with his knife and handed it to the
Kizlar-Aga.
"There, take it!" said he.
The Aga was astonished, but presently he understood and took the tulip.
"Then they want the Kapudan Pasha."
The Sultan cut off the handsomest of the tulips.
"There you have it," said he.
"They further demand the banishment of the Chief Mufti."
The Sultan tore up the third tulip by the roots and cast it from him.
"There it is."
"And the Grand Vizier they want also."
The last tulip Achmed threw violently to the ground, pot and all, and
then he covered his face.
"Ask no more, thou seest I have surrendered everything."
Then he gave him his signet-ring in which his name was engraved, and the
Kizlar-Aga stamped the document therewith, and then handed back the
signet-ring to the Sultan.
The Grand Vizier, meanwhile, was walking backwards and forwards in the
garden of the Seraglio. The Kizlar-Aga came there in search of him, and
with him were the envoys of Halil Patrona, Suleiman, whom he had made
Reis-Effendi, Orli, and Sulali. Elhaj Beshir approached him in their
presence, and kissing the document signed by the Sultan, handed it to
him.
Damad Ibrahim pressed the writing to his forehead and his lips, and,
after carefully reading it through, handed it back again, and taking
from his finger the great seal of the Empire gave it to the Kizlar-Aga.
"May he who comes after me be wiser and happier than I have been," said
he. "Greet the Sultan from me once more. And as for you, tell Halil
Patrona that you have seen the door of the Hall of the Executioners
close behind the back of Damad Ibrahim."
With that the Grand Vizier looked about him in search of someone to
escort him thither, when suddenly a kajkji leaped to his side and begged
that he might be allowed to lead the Grand Vizier to the Hall of
Execution.
This sailor-man had just such a long grey beard as the Grand Vizier
himself.
"How dost thou come to know me?" inquired Damad Ibrahim of the old man.
"Why we fought together, sir, beneath Belgrade, when both of us were
young fellows together."
"What is thy name?
"Manoli."
"I remember thee not."
"But I remember thee, for thou didst release me from captivity, and
didst cherish me when I was wounded."
"And therefore thou wouldst lead me to the executioner? I thank thee,
Manoli!"
All this was spoken while they were passing through the garden on their
way to the fatal chamber into which Manoli disappeared with the Grand
Vizier.
The Kizlar-Aga and the messengers of the insurgents waited till Manoli
came forth again. He came out, covering his face with his hands, no
doubt he was weeping. The Grand Vizier remained inside.
"To-morrow you shall see his dead body," said the Kizlar-Aga to the new
Reis-Effendi, and with that he sent him and his comrade back to Halil.
"We would rather have had them alive," said the ex-ciaus, so suddenly
become one of the chief dignitaries of the state.
That same evening Halil sent back Sulali with the message that the Chief
Mufti might go free.
The old man quitted his comrades about midnight, and day had scarce
dawned when he was summoned once more to the presence of the Grand
Seignior.
All night long the Kizlar-Aga tormented Achmed with the saying of the
Reis-Effendi: "We would rather have them alive!"
"No, no," said the Sultan, "we will not have them delivered up alive. It
shall not be in the power of the people to torture and tear them to
pieces. Rather let them die in my palace, an easy, instantaneous death,
without fear and scarce a pang of pain, wept and mourned for by their
friends."
"Then hasten on their deaths, dread sir, lest the morning come and they
be demanded while still alive."
"Tarry a while, I say, wait but for the morning. You would not surely
kill them at night! At night the gates of Heaven are shut. At night the
phantoms of darkness are let loose. You would not slay any living
creature at night! Wait till the day dawns."
The first ray of light had scarce appeared on the horizon when the
Kizlar-Aga once more stood before the Sultan.
"Master, the day is breaking."
"Call hither the mufti and Sulali!"
Both of them speedily appeared.
"Convey death to those who are already doomed."
Sulali and the mufti fell down on their knees.
"Wherefore this haste, O my master?" cried the aged mufti, bitterly
weeping as he kissed the Sultan's feet.
"Because the rebels wish them to be surrendered alive."
"So it is," observed the Kizlar-Aga by way of corroboration, "the whole
space in front of the kiosk is filled with the insurgents."
The Sultan almost collapsed with horror.
"Hasten, hasten! lest they fall into their hands alive."
"Oh, sir," implored Sulali, "let me first go down with the Imam of the
Aja Sophia to see whether the street really is filled with rebels or
not!"
The Sultan signified that they might go.
Sulali, Hassan, and Ispirizade thereupon hastened through the gate of
the Seraglio down to the open space before the kiosk, but not a living
soul did they find there. Not satisfied with merely looking about them,
they wished to persuade themselves that the insurgents were approaching
the Seraglio from some other direction by a circuitous way.
Meanwhile the Sultan was counting the moments and growing impatient at
the prolonged absence of his messengers.
"They have had time enough to cover the distance to the kiosk and back
twice over," remarked the Kizlar-Aga. "No doubt they have fallen into
the hands of the rebels who are holding them fast so that they may not
be able to bring any tidings back."
The Sultan was in despair.
"Hasten, hasten then!" said he to the Kizlar-Aga, and with that he fled
away into his inner apartments.
Ten minutes later Sulali and the Iman returned, and announced that there
was not a soul to be seen anywhere and no sign of anyone threatening the
Seraglio.
Then the Kizlar-Aga led them down to the gate. A cart drawn by two oxen
was standing there, and the top of it was covered with a mat of rushes.
He drew aside a corner of this mat, and by the uncertain light of dawn
they saw before them three corpses, the Kiaja's, the Kapudan's, and the
Grand Vizier's.
* * * * *
Happy Gül-Bejáze sits in Halil's lap and dreamily allows herself to be
cradled in his arms. Through the windows of the splendid palace
penetrate the shouts of triumph which hail Halil as Lord, for the
moment, of the city of Stambul and the whole Ottoman Empire.
Gül-Bejáze tremulously whispers in Halil's ear how much she would prefer
to dwell in a simple, lonely little hut in Anatolia instead of there in
that splendid palace.
Halil smooths away the luxuriant locks from his wife's forehead, and
makes her tell him once more the full tale of all those revolting
incidents which befell her in the Seraglio, in the captivity of the
Kapudan's house, and in the dungeon for dishonourable women. Why should
he keep on arousing hatred and vengeance?
The woman told him everything with a shudder. At her husband's feet,
right in front of them, stood three baskets full of flowers. Halil had
given them to her as a present.
But at the bottom of the baskets were still more precious gifts.
He draws forward the first basket and sweeps away the flowers. A bloody
head is at the bottom of the basket.
"Whose is that?"
Gül-Bejáze, all shuddering, lisped the name of Abdi Pasha.
He cast away the flowers from the second basket, there also was a bloody
head.
"And whose is that?"
"That is the Kiaja Beg's," sobbed the terrified girl.
And now Halil brought forward the third basket, and dashing aside from
it the fresh flowers, revealed to the eyes of Gül-Bejáze a grey head
with a white beard, which lay with closed eyes at the bottom of the
basket.
"Whose is that?" inquired Halil.
Gül-Bejáze's tender frame shivered in the arms of the strong man who
held her, as he compelled her to gaze at the bloody heads. And when she
regarded the third head she shook her own in amazement.
"I do not know that one."
"Not know it! Look again and more carefully. Perchance Death has changed
the expression of the features. That is Damad Ibrahim the Grand Vizier."
Gül-Bejáze regarded her husband with eyes wide-open with astonishment,
and then hastened to reply:
"Truly it _is_ Damad Ibrahim. Of course, of course. Death hath
disfigured his face so that I scarce knew it."
"Did I not tell thee that thou shouldst make sport with the heads of
those who made sport with thy heart? Dost thou want yet more?"
"Oh, no, no, Halil. I am afraid of these also. I am afraid to look upon
these dumb heads."
"Then cover them over with flowers, and thou wilt believe thou dost see
flower-baskets before thee."
"Let me have them buried, Halil. Do not make me fear thee also. Thou
wouldst have me go on loving thee, wouldst thou not? If only thou
wouldst come with me to Anatolia, where nobody would know anything about
us!"
"What dost thou say? Go away now when the very sun cannot set because of
me, and men cannot sleep because of the sound of my name? Dost not thou
also feel a desire to bathe in all this glory?"
"Oh, Halil! the rose and the palm grow up together out of the same
earth, and yet the palm grows into greatness while the rose remains
quite tiny. Suffer me but gently to crouch beside thee, dispense but thy
love to me, and keep thy glory to thyself."
Halil tenderly embraced and kissed the woman, and buried the three
baskets as she desired in the palace garden beneath three wide-spreading
rosemary bushes.
Then he took leave of Gül-Bejáze, for deputies from the people now
waited upon their leader, and begged him to accompany them to the mosque
of Zuleima, where the Sultan's envoys were already waiting for an
answer.
In order to get to the mosque more easily and avoid the labour of
forcing his way through the crowd that thronged the streets, Halil
hastened to the water side, got into the first skiff he met with, and
bade the sailor row him across to the Zuleima Mosque on the other side.
On the way his gaze fell upon the face of the sailor who was sitting
opposite to him. It was a grey-bearded old man.
"What is thy name, worthy old man?" inquired Halil.
"My name is Manoli, your Excellency."
"Call me not Excellency! Dost thou not perceive from my raiment that I
am nothing but a common Janissary?"
"Oh! I know thee better than that. Thou art Halil Patrona, whom may
Allah long preserve!"
"Thou also dost seem very familiar to me. Thou hast just such a white
beard as had Damad Ibrahim who was once Grand Vizier."
"I have often heard people say so, my master."
On arriving opposite the Zuleima Mosque, the boatman brought the skiff
ashore. Halil pressed a golden denarius into the old man's palm, the old
man kissed his hand for it.
Then for a long time Halil gazed into the old man's face.
"Manoli!"
"At thy command, my master."
"Thou seest the sun rising up yonder behind the hills?"
"Yes, my master."
"Before the shadows return to the side of yon hills take care to be well
behind them, and let not another dawn find thee in this city!"
The boatman bent low with his arms folded across his breast, then he
disappeared in his skiff.
But Halil Patrona hastened into the mosque.
The Sultan's ambassadors were awaiting him. Sheik Suleiman came forward.
"Halil!" said he, "the bodies of the three dead men I have given to the
people and their heads I have sent to thee."
"Who were they?" asked Halil darkly.
"The first was the corpse of the Kiaja Beg, his body was cast upon the
cross-ways through the Etmeidan Gate."
"And the second?"
"The Kapudan Pasha, his body was flung down in front of the fountains of
Khir-Kheri."
"And the third?"
"Damad Ibrahim, the Grand Vizier. His body we flung out into the piazza
in front of the Seraglio, at the foot of the very fountains which he
himself caused to be built."
Halil Patrona cast a searching look at the Sheik's face, and coldly
replied:
"Know then, oh, Sheik Suleiman, that thou liest, the third corpse was
_not_ the body of Damad Ibrahim the Grand Vizier. It was the body of a
sailor named Manoli, who greatly resembled him, and sacrificed himself
in Damad's behalf. But the Grand Vizier has escaped and none can tell
where he is. Go now, and tell that to those who sent thee hither!"