"Is it to me you speak, O hadji caliph?" at last stammered out Yussuf.

"Yes," replied the caliph, gravely.

Giaffar, who stood near his master, then cried out, "Yes, you cowardly shred of a beeldar; and reply quickly, or a sword will be applied to your neck."

Yussuf, as if talking to himself, replied, "I hope it will be my own then." He then replied to the question, "Yes, yes, it's all right—my father was a beeldar, and my mother also before him." At this extravagant answer the caliph and whole court could no longer restrain their mirth, which gave Yussuf a little more courage.

"So," replied Haroun, "it appears that you are a beeldar, and that your allowance is ten dinars yearly, and five pounds of mutton daily."

"Yes, my Umeer," replied Yussuf, "I believe that is correct. My trust is in God!"

"It is well. Now, Yussuf, take with you three other beeldars to the dungeon of blood, and bring to me the four robbers who were condemned to death for their manifold crimes and enormities."

Here Giaffar interfered, and submitted to the caliph, whether it would not be better that the head jailor should produce them, which being ordered, that officer presently made his appearance with the four criminals pinioned and bareheaded. The caliph ordered three of the beeldars each to seize and blindfold a prisoner, to open their upper garments ready to unsheath their swords, and wait for the word of command. The three beeldars made their obeisance, obeyed the command, placing the criminals in a kneeling position, resting on their hams, with their necks bare, and their eyes covered. While the three beeldars stood thus in readiness, Yussuf was in a dreadful state of confusion. "To escape now is impossible," said he to himself. "Confound these Moussul merchants. They did well to say they would come no more, for in a few minutes I shall be no more myself."

"You fellow there! you are one of the appointed beeldars, and do not know your duty," cried Giaffar. "Why do you not lead out the criminal, as your companions have done?"

Yussuf, obliged to obey, now seized the fourth prisoner, covered his eyes, laid bare his neck, and took his stand behind him, but without drawing his sword. "I never shall be able to get over this," thought Yussuf. "In a few seconds it will prove to be but a piece of palm-wood, and I shall lose my head among the jeers of the people. However, my trust is in God; and to Shitan with all Moussul merchants." He took, however, his sheath and sham sword from his belt, and raised it in the scabbard over his shoulder.

The caliph, who watched him narrowly, was highly diverted with this manoeuvre. "You beeldar!" cried he, "why do you not unsheath your sword?"

"My sword," replied Yussuf, "is of that temper, that it must not too long glance in the eyes of the Commander of the Faithful."

The caliph appeared satisfied, and turning to the first beeldar, commanded him to strike. In a moment the head of the robber was lying on the ground. "Neatly and bravely done," said the caliph; "let him be rewarded." He then gave command to the second to execute his criminal. The sword whirled in the air, and at one stroke the head of the robber flew some distance from the shoulders. The third criminal was despatched with equal dexterity. "Now," said the caliph to Yussuf, "you, my beeldar, cut off the criminal's head, and receive the like reward for your dexterity."

Yussuf had by this time, to a certain degree, recovered his presence of mind; he had not exactly arranged his ideas, but they floated indistinctly in his brain. "Will your highness allow me to say a few words to the criminal?" demanded Yussuf, to gain time.

"Be it so," replied the caliph, stuffing his robe in his mouth to prevent laughter.

"The caliph has commanded that your head be struck off. If you would pronounce the profession of the true faith, now is your time, robber, for you have but one short minute to live."

The criminal immediately cried out, "There is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet!"

Yussuf then bared his muscular arm, and fiercely rolling his eyes, walked three times round his prisoner. "Declare now the justice of your fate," cried he, aloud (but at the same time saying to the man, in a low tone, "Swear you are innocent"). "Say, is not your sentence just?"

"No—no," replied the man, in a loud voice, "I am innocent."

The caliph, who was very attentive to all that passed, was much diverted by Yussuf's proceedings, and wondered what he would do next. Yussuf then walked up to the caliph, and prostrated himself. "O caliph! vicegerent of the Prophet! deign to listen to your faithful beeldar, while he narrates a strange adventure which hath befallen him within these few days."

"Speak, beeldar, we are all attention; remember that thy words be those of truth."

"It was on the evening before your highness issued the decree that no water should be supplied to the bazaar, from the Tigris, that as I was sitting in my house, performing my sacred duties, and studying the Koran, which I read in a loud voice, three merchants of Moussul claimed and entreated my hospitality. The Koran has pointed out hospitality as a virtue necessary to every true believer, and I hastened to open my door and receive them."

"Indeed," replied the caliph, looking at Giaffar. "Tell me, beeldar, what sort of looking personages might these Moussul merchants be?"

"Ill-favoured to a degree. One was a pot-bellied, rascally-looking fellow, with a great beard, who looked as if he had just come out of a jail. [The caliph winked at his vizier, as much as to say, There is your portrait.] Another was a black-bearded, beetle-browed, hang-dog looking rascal. [Giaffar bowed to the caliph.] And the third was a blubber-lipped, weazen-faced skeleton of a negro. [Mesrour clapped his hand to his dagger with impatience.] In short, your highness, I may safely say that the three criminals whose heads have just been forfeited to justice were, as far as appearances went, honest-looking men compared to the three Moussul merchants. Nevertheless, as in duty bound, I received these three men, gave them shelter, and spread a table of the best before them. They indulged in kabobs, and asking for wine and rakee, which, as forbidden by the law, I never taste, I went out and purchased it for them. They did eat and drink till the dawn broke, and then they departed."

"Indeed," said the caliph.

"The next night, to my great annoyance, they aroused me from my devotions as before. Again did my substance disappear in providing for their demands; and, after having eaten and drunk until they were intoxicated, they went away, and I hoped to see them no more, as they were not sparing in their observations upon the new decree of your highness, relative to the shutting up of the baths."

"Proceed, good Yussuf."

"The third night they again came, and having no more money to spare, and finding them still making my house a tavern, I hoped that they would come no more; but they came again, a fourth night, and then behaved most indecorously, singing lewd songs, and calling out for wine and rakee until I could bear it no more, and I then told them that I could no longer receive them. The fat-stomached one, whom I have before mentioned, then rose, and said, 'Yussuf, we have proved your hospitality, and we thank you. No one would have received three such ill-favoured persons, and have regaled them for the love of God, as you have done. We will now reward thee. Thou art a beeldar of the palace, and we will now present thee with the sword of justice, which has been lost since the days of the great Solomon; take this, and judge not by its outward appearance. When commanded to take off the head of a criminal, if he is guilty, the sword will flash like fire, and never fail; but should he be innocent, it will become a harmless lath of wood.' I took the present, and was about to return thanks, when the three ill-favoured Moussul merchants gradually took the form of celestial beings, and vanished."

"Indeed, this is a strange story—what, did the big-bellied fellow look like an angel?"

"As an angel of light, O caliph."

"What, and the weazen-faced negro?"

"Like a houri, O caliph."

"Well, then," replied the caliph, "you shall now, Yussuf, try the power of this wonderful sword. Strike off that criminal's head."

Yussuf returned to the robber, who remained kneeling, and walked round him, crying out with a loud voice, "O sword, if this man be guilty, do thy duty; but if he be, as he has declared in his dying moments, innocent, then become thou harmless." With these words Yussuf drew his sword, and exhibited a lath of palm-wood. "He is innocent, O caliph; this man, being unjustly condemned, ought to be set free."

"Most certainly," replied the caliph, delighted with the manoeuvre of Yussuf, "let him be liberated. Chief of the beeldars, we cannot part with a man, who, like Yussuf, possesses so famous a weapon. Let there be ten more beeldars appointed, and let Yussuf have the command of them as chief, with the same perquisites and salary as the other chiefs."

Yussuf prostrated himself before the caliph, delighted with his good fortune, and as he retired, he exclaimed, "I am Yussuf; my trust is in God. Allah preserve the three Moussul merchants."

It was not long before the caliph, Giaffar, and Mesrour appeared again as the merchants to Yussuf, and heartily enjoyed his discomfiture and confusion, when they discovered themselves. Still Yussuf enjoyed the favour of Haroun to the end of his life, and was more fortunate than Giaffar and others, who only once fell under the wrath and suspicion of the all-powerful caliph.

* * * * *

"Such, O pacha, is the history of Yussuf, the water-carrier."

"Yes, and a very good story too. Have you not another, Menouni?"

"Your highness," replied Mustapha, "the caravan will depart at break of day, and Menouni has but three hours to prepare. It can no longer be detained without the chief making a report to the authorities, which would not be well received."

"Be it so," replied the pacha; "Let Menouni be rewarded, and we will try to find some other storyteller, until his return from his pilgrimage."



Chapter XIX

"Mustapha," observed the pacha, taking his pipe out of his mouth, "what makes the poets talk so much about the Book of Fate?"

"The Book of Fate, your highness, is where is written our Talleh, or destiny. Can I say more?"

"Allah acbar! God is great! and it is well said. But why a book, when nobody can read it?"

"These are great words, and spiced with wisdom. O pacha! doth not Hafiz say, 'Every moment you enjoy, count it gain.' Who can say what will be the event of anything?"

"Wallah thaib! well said, by Allah! Then why a book, if the book is sealed?"

"Yet there are wise men who can read our Kismet, and foretell."

"Yes, very true; but I have observed that it is not until after an event has happened, that they tell you of it. What are these astrologers? Bosh—nothing—I have said." And the pacha remained some time smoking his pipe in silence.

"May it please your highness," observed Mustapha, "I have outside a wretch who is anxious to crawl into your presence. He comes from the far-distant land of Kathay—an unbeliever, with two tails."

"Two tails! was he a pacha in his own country?"

"A pacha! Staffir Allah!—God forgive me! A dog—a most miserable dog—on my eyes be it; but still he hath two tails."

"Let the dog with two tails be admitted," replied the pacha. "We have said it."

A yellow-skinned, meagre, and wrinkled old Chinaman was brought in between two of the guards. His eyes were very small and bleared, his cheek-bones prominent; all that could be discovered of his nose were two expanded nostrils at its base; his mouth of an enormous width, with teeth as black as ink. As soon as the guards stopped, he slipped down from between them on his knees, and throwing forward his body, kow-tow-ed with his head in the dust nine times, and then remained with his face down on the floor.

"Let the dog with two tails rise," said the pacha.

This order not being immediately obeyed by the servile Chinaman, each of the two guards who stood by him seized one of the plaited tails of hair, which were nearly an ell in length, and pulled up his head from the floor. The Chinaman then remained cross-legged, with his eyes humbly fixed upon the ground.

"Who art thou, dog?" said the pacha, pleased with the man's humility.

"I am of Kathay and your vilest slave," replied the man, in good Turkish. "In my own country I was a poet. Destiny hath brought me here, and I now work in the gardens of the palace."

"If you are a poet, you can tell me many a story."

"Your slave has told thousands in his lifetime, such hath been my fate."

"Talking about fate," said Mustapha, "can you tell his highness a story, in which destiny has been foretold and hath been accomplished? If so, begin."

"There is a story of my own country, O vizier! in which destiny was foretold, and was most unhappily accomplished."

"You may proceed," said Mustapha, at a sign from the pacha.

The Chinaman thrust his hand into the breast of his blue cotton shirt, and pulled out a sort of instrument made from the shell of a tortoise, with three or four strings stretched across, and in a low, monotonous tone, something between a chant and a whine, not altogether unmusical, he commenced his story. But first he struck his instrument, and ran over a short prelude, which may be imagined by a series of false notes, running as follows:—

Ti-tum, titum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, titum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

As he proceeded in his story, whenever he was out of breath, he stopped, and struck a few notes of his barbarous music.



THE WONDROUS TALE OF HAN.

Who was more impassioned in his nature, who was more formed for love, than the great Han Koong Shew, known in the celestial archives as the sublime Youantee, brother of the sun and moon?—whose court was so superb—whose armies were so innumerable—whose territories were so vast—bounded as they were by the four seas, which bound the whole universe? yet was he bound by destiny to be unhappy, and thus do I commence the wondrous Tale of Han—the sorrows of the magnificent Youantee.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly——

Yes, he felt that some one thing was wanting. All his power, his wealth, his dignity, filled not his soul with pleasure. He turned from the writings of the great Fo—he closed the book. Alas! he sighed for a second self to whom he might point out—"All this is mine." His heart yearned for a fair damsel—a maid of beauty—to whose beauty he might bow. He, to whom the world was prostrate, the universe were slaves, longed for an amorous captivity, and sighed for chains. But where was the maiden to be found, worthy to place fetters upon the brother of the sun and moon—the magnificent master of the universe? Where was she to be found?

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Yes, there was one, and but one, worthy to be his mate, worthy to be the queen of a land of eternal spring, filled with trees, whose stems were of gold, branches of silver, leaves of emerald, and whose fruits were the fragrant apples of immortality. And where was this moon, fit bride unto the sun? Was she not plunged in grief—hidden in a well of her own tears—even in the gardens of joy? Those eyes which should have sunned a court of princes, were dimmed with eternal sorrow. And who was the cause of this eclipse, but the miscreant, gold-loving minister, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly.

The mandarins were summoned by the great Youantee, the court in its splendour bowed down their heads into the dust of delight as they listened to the miracle of his eloquence. "Hear me, ye first chop mandarins, peers, lords, and princes of the empire. Listen to the words of Youantee. Hath not each bird that skims the air, its partner in the nest? Hath not each beast its mate? Have not you all eyes which beam but upon you alone? Am I then so unfortunately great, or so greatly unfortunate, that I may not be permitted to descend to love? Even the brother of the sun and moon cannot, during his career on earth, exist alone. Seek, then, through the universe, a maiden for thy lord, that like my brother, the sun, who sinks each night into the bosom of the ocean, I too may repose upon the bosom of my mate. Seek, I say, search each corner of the world, that its treasures may be poured forth at our golden feet, and one gem be selected for our especial wear. But first, O wise men and astrologers, summon ye the planets and stars of destiny, that they may ascertain whether, by this conjunction, aught of evil be threatened to our celestial person, or to our boundless empire."

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Where is the star which leaps not in his course with delight, to obey the wishes of the brother of the sun and moon? Where was the planet that rejoiced not to assist so near a relative? Yes, they all hearkened, bowing down to the astrolabes of the astrologers, like generous steeds, who knelt to receive their riders; yet, when they all did meet to throw light upon the required page of destiny, was not their brightness dimmed when they perceived, as they read it, that it was full of tears, and that joy floated but as a bubble? The wise men sighed as the decree of fate was handed down to them, and with their faces to the earth, thus did they impart the contents of the revealed page to the magnificent Youantee.

"The brother of the sun and moon would wed. Beauty shall be laid at the golden feet, but the pearl beyond price will be found and lost. There will be joy and there will be sorrow. Joy in life, sorrow both in life and death; for a black dragon, foe to the celestial empire, threatens like an overhanging cloud. More the stars dare not reveal."

Ti-tum, till-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

* * * * *

Here the pacha looked at Mustapha and nodded his head in approbation, as much as to say, "Now we are coming to the point." Mustapha bowed, and the Chinese poet continued.

* * * * *

The golden eyes of the great Youantee were filled with silver tears when the page of destiny was made known; but the sun of hope rose, and bore away the sacred dew to heaven. Then called he the minister, ever to be disgraced in story, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, and the emperor desired him to make a progress through the universe, his dominions, to find out the most beautiful maidens, to be brought to the celestial feet, at the coming feast of Lanthorns. But before they could be permitted to shoot up the rays of love through the mist of glory which surrounded the imperial throne—before their charms were to make the attempt upon the heart of magnanimity, it was necessary, that all their portraits should be submitted to the great Youantee, in the Hall of Delight. That is to say, out of the twenty thousand virgins whose images were to be impressed upon the ivory, one hundred only, selected by a committee of taste, composed of the first class mandarins and princes, were to be honoured by the beam of the celestial eye.

The avaricious, gold-seeking, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow had performed his task; wealth poured into his coffers from the ambitious parents, who longed to boast of an alliance with the brother of the sun and moon, and many were the ill-favoured whose portraits were dismissed by the committee of taste, with surprise at the minister's ideas of beauty.

Now there was a certain mandarin, whose daughter had long been extolled through the province of Kartou, as a miracle of beauty, and her father, Whanghang, brought her in a litter to the minister Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow. He felt that her charms were piercing as an arrow, and that he had found a fit mate for the brother of the sun and moon; but his avarice demanded a sum which the father would not pay. Refuse to send her portrait he dare not; it was therefore ordered to be taken, as well as the others, and Whanghang considered himself as the father-in-law of the celestial Youantee. The young painter who was employed finished his task, then laid down his pencil, and died with grief and love of such perfection, which he never could hope to obtain. The picture was sent to the vile minister, who reserved it for himself, and wrote the name of this pearl beyond price, under that of another, unworthy to unloose her zone as her handmaiden. The committee of taste did, however, select that picture among the hundred to be placed in the Hall of Delight, not because the picture was beautiful, but because the fame of her beauty had reached the court, and they thought it right that the emperor should see the picture. The virgins whose pictures were thus selected, were all ordered to repair to the imperial palace, and the magnificent Youantee entered the Hall of Delight, which was illumined with ten thousand lanthorns, and cast his eyes over the portraits of the hundred beauties, but not one feature touched his heart, he turned away in disgust at the degenerate countenances of the age, "Is this all," exclaimed he, "that the world can lay at the feet of its lord?" And the committee of taste prostrated themselves when they beheld his indignation. "And this," exclaimed he, pointing to the supposed portrait of the daughter of Whanghang, "who is this presumptuous one who hath dared to disgrace with her features the Hall of Delight?"

"That, O emperor," said the wily Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, "is the far-famed beauty Chaoukeun, whose insolent father dared to say, that if it was not sent, he would lay his complaint at the celestial feet. In her province the fame of her beauty was great, and I did not like to be accused of partiality, so it has been placed before the imperial eye."

"First, then," exclaimed the emperor, "let it be proclaimed that the whole province of Kartou is peopled by fools, and levy upon it a fine of one hundred thousand ounces of gold, for its want of taste; and next, let this vain one be committed to perpetual seclusion in the eastern tower of the imperial palace. Let the other maidens be sent to their parents, for as yet there is not found a fit bride for the brother of the sun and moon."

The imperial mandates were obeyed; and thus was the first part of the prophecy fulfilled, that "the pearl beyond price would be found and lost."

Ti-tum, till-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Yes, she was lost, for the resplendent Chaoukeun was shut up to waste away her peerless beauty in sorrow and in solitude. One small terrace-walk was the only spot permitted her on which to enjoy the breezes of heaven. Night was looking down in loveliness, with her countless eyes, upon the injustice and cruelty of men, when the magnificent Youantee, who had little imagined that the brother of the sun and moon would be doomed to swallow the bitter pillau of disappointment, as had been latterly his custom, quitted the palace to walk in the gardens and commune with his own thoughts, unattended. And it pleased destiny, that the pearl beyond price, the neglected Chaoukeun also was induced, by the beauty and stillness of the night, to press the shell sand which covered the terrace-walk, with her diminutive feet, so diminutive, that she almost tottered in her gait. The tear trembled in her eye as she thought of her own happy home, and bitterly did she bewail that beauty, which, instead of raising her to a throne, had by malice and avarice condemned her to perpetual solitude. She looked upwards at the starry heaven, but felt no communion with its loveliness. She surveyed the garden of sweets from the terrace, but all appeared to be desolate. Of late, her only companions had been her tears and her lute, whose notes were as plaintive as her own.

"O my mother!" exclaimed she; "beloved, but too ambitious mother! but for one little hour to lay this head upon your bosom! Fatal hath been the dream you rejoiced in at my nativity, in which the moon shone out so brilliantly, and then descended into the earth at your feet. I have shone but a little, little time, and now am I buried, as it were, in the earth, at my joyous age. Immured in this solitary tower, my hopes destroyed—my portrait cannot have been seen—and now I am lost for ever. Thou lute, sole companion of my woes, let us join our voices of complaint. Let us fancy that the flowers are listening to our grief, and that the dews upon the half-closed petals are tears of pity for my misfortunes." And Chaoukeun struck her lute, and thus poured out her lament:

"O tell me, thou all-glorious sun, Were there no earth to drink thy light, Would not, in vain, thy course be run, Thy reign be o'er a realm of night?

"Thus charms were born to be enthroned In hearts, and youth to be caress'd; And beauty is not, if not own'd, At least by one adoring breast."

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The musical notes of the peerless Chaoukeun were not thrown away only upon flowers deaf and dumb, they vibrated in the ears of the magnificent Youantee, who had sat down on the back of an enormous metal dragon, which had been placed in the walk under the terrace. The emperor listened with surprise at her soliloquy, with admiration at her enchanting song. For some minutes he remained in a profound reverie, and then rising from the dragon, he walked towards the gate of the tower, and clapped his hands. The eunuch made his appearance. "Keeper of the Yellow Tower," said the emperor, "but now I heard the sounds of a lute."

"Even so, O Sustenance of the world," responded the slave.

"Was it not rather an angel than a mortal, whose mellifluous notes accompanied the instrument?" said the magnificent Youantee.

"Certainly is she blessed beyond mortality, since her melody has found favour in the celestial ears," replied the black keeper of the Yellow Tower.

"Go then, and quickly summon all our highest officers of state, to lay their robes upon the ground, that she may pass over them to our presence at the dragon below the terrace."

The magnificent Youantee, brother of the sun and moon, returned to his former seat, filled with pleasing anticipations, while the eunuch hastened to obey the celestial commands. The mandarins of the first class hastened to obey the orders of Youantee; their furred and velvet cloaks, rich in gold and silver ornaments, were spread from the tower to the dragon at the terrace, forming a path rich and beautiful as the milky way in the heavens. The pearl beyond price, the peerless Chaonkeun, like the moon in her splendour, passed over it into the presence of the great Youantee.

"Immortal Fo," exclaimed the emperor, as the attendants raised their lanterns, so as to throw light upon her countenance, "by what black mischance have such charms been hidden from our sight?"

Then did the peerless Chaoukeun narrate, in few words, the treachery and avarice of Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.

"Hasten, O mandarins, let the scissors of disgrace cut off the two tails of this wretch, and then let the sword of justice sever off his head."

But the rumour of his sentence flew on the wind to Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow; and before the executioner could arrive, he had mounted a horse fleeter than the wind, and with the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his vest, had left even rumour far behind.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

And to whom did the miscreant minister fly, to hide his devoted head? He flew to the wild nations of the north, the riders of wild horses, with sharp scimitars and long lances. For three days and three nights did the hoofs of his fiery steed strike fire upon the flints, which he spurned in his impetuous course, and then, as an immortal poet hath already sung, "he bowed his head and died." With the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his bosom, and his mandarin garments raised up under each arm, the miscreant Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow reached the presence of the Great Khan. "O Khan of Tartary," said he, "may thy sword be ever keen, thy lance unerring, and thy courser swift. I am thy slave. O thou who commandest a hundred thousand warriors, hath thy slave permission to address thee?"

"Speak, and be d——d," replied the warrior chief, of few words, whose teeth were busy with some pounds of horse-flesh.

"Thou knowest, O Khan, that it hath been the custom for ages, that the celestial empire should provide for thee a fair damsel for thy nuptial bed, and that this hath been the price paid by the celestial court, to prevent the ravages of thy insatiate warriors. O Khan, there is a maid, whose lovely features I now have with me, most worthy to be raised up to thy nuptial couch." And the miscreant laid at the feet of the Great Khan the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun.

The chief finished his repast, and then with his lance turned over the image of the pearl beyond all price. He looked at it, then passed it to those around him. The savage warriors stared at the lovely portrait, and admired it not—yet did they long for war. "Tell me, O chiefs," said the Great Khan, "is that baby-face you look at worth contending for?"

And, with one voice, the chiefs replied that she was worthy to share the nuptial couch of the Great Khan.

"Be it so," replied he, "I am no judge of beauty. Let the encampment be broken up—this evening we move southwards." And the Tartar chief entered the northern provinces of the celestial empire, with his hundred thousand warriors, destroying all with fire and sword, proving his sincere wish to unite himself to the Chinese nation by the indiscriminate slaughter of man, woman, and child; and his ardent love for the peerless Chaoukeun, by making a nuptial torch of every town and village.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

But we must return to the celestial court, and astonish the world with the wonderful events which there took place. The astrologers and wise men had consulted the heavens, and had ascertained that on the thirty-third minute after the thirteenth hour, the marriage procession must set out, or the consummation would not be prosperous. Who can describe the pomp and glory of the spectacle, or give an adequate idea of its splendour? Alas! it would not be possible, even if it were attempted by ten thousand poets, each with ten thousand tongues of silver, singing for ten thousand years. Such, however, was the order of the procession.

First walked ten thousand officers of justice, with long bamboos, striking right and left to clear the way, to the cadence of soft music, blending with the plaintive cries of those who limped away and rubbed their shins.

Then marching, ten abreast, one hundred thousand lanthorns to assist the sun, partially eclipsed by the splendour of the procession.

Next appeared, slowly keeping time to a dead march, five thousand decapitated criminals, each carrying his own head by its long tail of hair.

* * * * *

"Staffir Allah! What is that but a lie?" exclaimed the pacha. "Did you hear what the dog has dared to breathe into our ears, Mustapha?"

"Mighty pacha," replied the Chinaman, with humility, "if your wisdom pronounces it to be a lie—a lie it most certainly must be; still it is not the lie of your slave, who but repeats the story as handed down by the immortal eastern poet."

"Nevertheless, there appears to be a trifling mistake," observed Mustapha. "Is the procession to proceed, O pacha?"

"Yes, yes; but by the Prophet, let the dog tremble if again he presumes to laugh at our beards."

* * * * *

After the decapitated criminals, which your highness objects to, came in procession those criminals with their heads on, who were to suffer for their offences on this day of universal happiness.

First came two thousand robbers, sentenced to be hung up by their heels, emblematic of their wish to turn everything upside down—so to remain until they were pecked to death by the crows, or torn to pieces by the vultures.

The banner of innovation.

One of the robber chiefs, ordered to be choked with an abacus, which was suspended round his neck.

Another of the robber chiefs. This man, although a follower of the court, and sunned in the celestial presence, had dared to utter vile falsehoods against the celestial dynasty. He was sentenced to have his skin peeled off, and to eat his own words, until he died from the virulent poison which they contained.

The most important of all the criminals next appeared, who being great in favour at court, and appointed to the high office of physician to the celestial conscience, had been discovered in the base attempt of drugging it with opium; he had also committed several other enormities, such as being intoxicated in his mandarin robes, and throwing mud at the first chief mandarin; also of throwing aside his robes, mingling with the lower classes, and associating with mountebanks, jugglers, and tight-rope dancers. His enormities were written on a long scroll suspended round his neck. His sentence was the torture of disappointment and envy, previous to a condign political death.

After him came a disgraced yellow mandarin, who had been a great enemy of the criminal who preceded him. He was seated upon a throne of jet, and his arms supported in derision by two prize-fighters. His crime was playing at pitch and toss with the lower classes. His punishment was merely exposure.

Such were the criminals who were to suffer upon this day of universal happiness and delight.

Then came fifty thousand archers of the blue dragon battalion, carrying in their hands chowries of horses' tails to clear away the blue-bottle flies.

Next appeared ten thousand virgins, all modest, lovely, and in light drapery, singing hymns in praise of Ganesa on the Rat, the god of pure Love;

Attended by ten thousand youths, who tickled the said ten thousand virgins, singing hymns in praise of the upright Fo.

Fifty thousand archers of the green dragon battalion, each carrying a long peacock's feather in his right hand, to ascertain how the wind blew.

Five hundred physicians attending the celestial court, each carrying a silver box with golden pills.

The head physician to the celestial wits, and always in attendance upon a crisis. He carried in his right hand a bladder-full of peas at the end of a wand, to recall his majesty's wits when they wandered; and was followed by

Fifty thousand fools marching five abreast in union,

And fifty thousand rogues, marching off with everything they could lay their hands upon.

Then came a notorious faquir and mendicant, who was leader of a celebrated sect. He wore but one tail instead of the two usually worn by our nation, but that tail was of forty feet. He was followed by numerous devotees, who threw their worldly goods at his feet, and in return he presented them with writings and harangues, which he declared were infallible in all diseases.

Ten thousand young married women, each hushing an infant to repose upon the left breast to the sound of clarions and trumpets, emblematical of the peaceful and quiet state of matrimony.

The banner of impudence.

Five thousand political mountebanks, contradicting each other, and exerting themselves for the amusement of the people, who, however, suffered rather severely from their mad tricks.

The second in command, explaining their system in an unknown tongue.

The emperor's juggler, who astonished the whole empire by his extraordinary feats, and the rapidity with which he relieved them of all the money in their pockets.

The banner of Love.

The celestial secretary, with goose-wings on his shoulders, goose-quills in each hand, looking very much like a goose mounted on a mule, gaily caparisoned in colours quadripartite, and covered with jingling brass bells.

Five thousand old women, singing the praises of the said secretary and taking snuff to the flourish of hautboys.

The prosperity of the celestial empire, carried by the court fool, in a basket beautifully carved out of a wild cherry-stone; and guarded by

Fifty thousand archers of the red dragon battalion, picking their teeth to soft music.

Ten thousand poets, each singing at the same time, and to a different tune, his ode upon this joyful occasion.

The immortal poet of the age, attired in velvet to his feet, and superbly ornamented with rings and chains of gold and precious stones. He carried his silver harp in his hand, and was mounted on a beautiful white jackass with his face towards the tail, that he might behold and be inspired by the charms of the peerless Chaoukeun, the pearl beyond all price.

Then came the magnificent Youantee, and the peerless Chaoukeun, seated in the massive car of gossamer richly studded with the eyes of live humming birds, drawn by twelve beautiful blue loadstars, presented by the heavenly bodies to the brother of the sun and moon.

Twenty thousand young men, beautiful as angels, clad in the skins of the black fox, and playing upon ivory jews'-harps, all mounted upon coal-black steeds.

Twenty thousand niggers, ugly as devils, clad in the skins of the white polar bear, and sounding mellifluous cat-calls, all mounted upon pure white Arabian horses.

All the first-class mandarins of the celestial empire, turning up their eyes to heaven, and wishing that the procession was over.

All the second-class mandarins of the celestial empire, choked with dust, and wishing the procession at the devil.

Twenty millions of the people, extolling the liberality of the great emperor, and crying out for bread.

Ten millions of women, who had lost their children in the crowd, and were crying out bitterly in their search.

Ten millions of children who had lost their mothers in the crowd, and were crying out bitterly till they found them.

The remainder of the inhabitants of the celestial empire.

Such was the grand and pompous marriage procession, which employed the whole population, so that there were no spectators except three blind old women, who were so overcome with delight that, when it had passed, they bowed their heads and died.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The procession arrived at the palace, and the pearl of price was now his bride, and the heart of Youantee was oppressed with love. Upon a jewelled throne they sat, side by side; but what was the blaze of the diamonds, compared to one glance from her lightning eye? What were the bright red rubies, compared to her parted coral lips—or the whiteness of the pearls, when she smiled, and displayed her teeth? Her arched eyebrows were more beautifully pencilled than the rainbow; the blush upon her cheek turned pale with envy every rose in the celestial gardens; and in compassion to the court, many of whom were already blind, by rashly lifting up their eyes to behold her charms, an edict had been promulgated, by which it was permitted to the mandarins and princes attending the court, to wear green spectacles to save their eyes. The magnificent Youantee was consumed with love as with a raging fever, and the physicians of the emperor were alarmed for his celestial health; by their advice, Chaoukeun consented only to receive him in a darkened chamber. All was joy. The empire rang with the praises of the pearl beyond all price. The gaols were ordered to be levelled to the ground—criminals to be pardoned—the sword of justice to remain in its scabbard—the bastinado to be discontinued. Even the odious lanthorn-tax was taken off, in honour of the peerless Chaoukeun, whose praises were celebrated by all the poets of the country, until they were too hoarse to sing, and the people too tired to listen to them.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

* * * * *

"I'm sure I don't wonder at their being tired," observed the pacha, yawning, "if they were like you."

"God is great," replied Mustapha, with another yawn. "Shall he proceed?"

"Yes, let him go on; wake me when the story is ended," replied the pacha, laying down his pipe.

* * * * *

Alas! how soon was all this delirium of happiness to be overthrown: how soon was the prophecy to be fulfilled, that there should be not only joy in life, but also sorrow! The magnificent Youantee was roused from his dream of delight by courier after courier coming in, and laying at the celestial feet tidings of the advance of the hundred thousand warriors. A solemn council was summoned, and the imperial edict was passed, that the barbarians of the north should be driven back to their lands of eternal frost and snow. The imperial armies departed from the capital, each individual composing its hundreds of thousands, vowing by his two tails that he would eat all that he killed. This bloody vow was accomplished, for they killed none; they returned discomfited, without their bows, or arrows, or their swords, fleeing before the rage of the Tartar chief. Then rose the great Youantee in wrath, and issued another edict that the barbarians should be driven even into the sea which bounds the empire of the world. And the armies were again sent forth, but again they returned discomfited, saying, "How can we, who eat rice with chopsticks, combat with barbarians, who not only ride on horses, but eat them too?" The celestial edict was not attended to by the Tartars, for they were barbarians, and knew no better; and they continued to advance until within one day's progress of the celestial capital; and the brother of the sun and moon, the magnificent Youantee, was forced to submit to the disgrace of receiving an envoy from the barbarians, who thus spoke, in sugared words:—

"The great khan of Tartary greets the magnificent Youantee; he has slaughtered some millions of his subjects, because they were traitors, and would not defend the celestial throne. He has burnt some thousands of his towns, that the great Youantee may order them to be rebuilt in greater beauty. All this has he done with much trouble and fatigue, to prove his regard to the magnificent Youantee. All that he asks in return is, that he may receive as his bride the peerless Chaoukeun, the pearl beyond all price."

The great Youantee spoke from his celestial throne—"Return my thanks to the great khan your master, for his considerate conduct, and tell him, that he well deserves a bride from our celestial empire, but the pearl beyond all price is wedded to the brother of the sun and moon. Any other maiden in our empire shall be sent to him with gifts worthy to be offered by the great Youantee, and worthy to be accepted by the great khan of Tartary. Let it be an edict."

But the Tartar replied, "O great monarch, the great khan my master does not require an edict, but the peerless Chaoukeun. If I return without her, he enters the celestial city, and spares not man, or woman, or child." Then fell at the celestial feet all the princes and mandarins of every class, performing solemnly the great kow tow, and the chief minister of state spoke thus:—"Lord of the universe, brother of the sun and moon, who governs the world with thine edicts, whose armies are invincible, and numerous as the sands upon the shores of the four seas, listen to thy faithful slaves. Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price, so shall we all live to humble ourselves before thee." And all the princes and mandarins cried out with one voice, "Surrender up the pearl beyond all price." And all the brave generals drew their swords, and waved them in the air, crying out, "Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price." And all the army and all the people joined in the request.

Then rose up Youantee in great wrath, and ordered that the prime minister, and all the mandarins, and the princes, and all the generals, and all the army, and all the people, should be disgraced and decapitated forthwith. "Let it be an edict." But as there was no one left to put the great Youantee's edict into force, it was not obeyed. And the brother of the sun and moon perceived that he was in the minority; concealing therefore his bile, he graciously ordered refreshments for the envoy, saying, "Let the dog be fed," and retired to the apartment of the peerless Chaoukeun.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Now the beauteous empress had listened to all that had taken place in the great hall of audience, and she threw herself at the celestial feet, saying, "Let me be sacrificed—it is my destiny. Send your slave to the great khan to do with me as he pleases—I am all submission. They say he is a handsome man, and of great size and strength. It is my destiny."

Then did the great Youantee shed bitter tears at his bitter fate; but he knew it was his destiny—and O destiny, who can resist thee? He wiped his celestial eyes, and leading forth the peerless Chaoukeun, put her in the hands of the barbarian envoy, saying, "I send your master the pearl beyond all price. I have worn her for some time, but still she is as good as new. And now let your master the great khan return, with his hundred thousand warriors, to the confines of our territories, as it was agreed. Thou hearest. It is an edict."

"It is enough that my great master hath given his word, and the great Youantee hath given the pearl beyond all price. There needs not an edict," replied the envoy, departing with the peerless Chaoukeun. Thus was the magnificent Youantee left without a bride.

Now when the envoy had brought the peerless Chaoukeun in a close litter to the tent of the great khan, he forthwith commanded his army to return. Much to the mortification of the peerless damsel, he did not express any curiosity to behold her, but commenced a rapid retreat, and, in a few days, arrived at the confines of the celestial territory, which was separated from the Tartar dominions by an impetuous river. As soon as he had forded the river, he encamped on the other side, and sat down with his generals to a sumptuous feast of horseflesh and quass. When the liquor had mounted into his brain, he desired that the litter of the pearl beyond all price should be brought nigh to his tent, that he might send for her, if so inclined. And the peerless Chaoukeun peeped out of the litter, and beheld the great khan as he caroused; and when she beheld his hairy form, his gleaming eyes, his pug-nose, and his tremendously wide mouth—when she perceived that he had the form and features of a ghoul, or evil spirit, she wrung her hands, and wept bitterly, and all her love returned for the magnificent Youantee.

Now the great khan was drunk with quass, and he ordered the pearl beyond all price to be brought to him, and she replied trembling, saying, "Tell your lord that I am not fit to appear in his sublime presence until I have washed myself in the river." And those who had charge of her took the message to the great khan, who replied, "Let her wash, since she is so dirty."

Then was the litter of the peerless Chaoukeun taken down to the banks of the river, and she stood upon a rock which overhung the black waters. "How callest thou this river?" said she to her attendants.

And they replied, "This river, O princess, divides the territory of Tartary from China, and it is called the river of the Black Dragon."

"Then is the prophecy fulfilled," cried the pearl beyond price. "It is my destiny; and destiny, who shall resist?"

She raised up her arms to heaven, and uttering a loud shriek at her unhappy fate, she plunged headlong into the boiling waters, and disappeared for ever.

Thus was the prophecy fulfilled. The brother of the sun and moon had wed—beauty had been laid at the golden feet—the pearl beyond price had been found and lost. There had been joy and there had been sorrow in life—and sorrow in death. The Black Dragon had proved the foe to the celestial empire, for it had swallowed up the pearl beyond all price.

Ti-tum, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The twang of the rude instrument awoke the pacha, who had been fast asleep for some time.

"Is it finished, Mustapha?" said he, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, your highness; and the destiny foretold was truly accomplished."

"Bismillah! but I'm glad of it. Before he had whined ten minutes, I foretold that I should go to sleep. My destiny has also been accomplished."

"Will your highness foretell the destiny of this dog with two tails?"

"Two tails! that reminds me that we have only had one out of him as yet. Let's have him again to-morrow, and have another. At all events, we shall have a good nap. God is great."



Chapter XX

"Mustapha," said the pacha, "I feel as the caliph Haroun Alraschid, in the tale of Yussuf, related by Menouni, full of care; my soul is weary—my heart is burnt as roast meat."

Mustapha, who had wit enough to perceive that he was to act the part of Giaffar, the vizier, immediately replied, "O pacha! great and manifold are the cares of state. If thy humble slave may be permitted to advise, thou wilt call in the Chinese dog with two tails, who hath as yet repeated but one of his tales."

"Not so," replied the pacha; "I am weary of his eternal ti-tum, tilly-lilly, which yet ringeth in mine ears. What else canst thou propose?"

"Alem penah! refuge of the world, wilt thou be pleased to order out thy troops, and witness the exercise of djireed? The moon is high in the heavens, and it is light as day."

"Not so," replied the pacha; "I am tired of war and all that appertains to it. Let the troops sleep in peace."

"Then, O pacha! will you permit your slave to send for some bottles of the fire-water of the Giaour, that we may drink and smoke until we are elevated to the seven heavens?"

"Nay, good vizier, that is as a last resource, for it is forbidden by the laws of the Prophet. Think once more, and thou must have no more brains than a water-melon, if this time thou proposest not that which will give me ease."

"Thy slave lives but to hear, and hears but to obey," replied Mustapha. "Then will it please my lord to disguise himself, and walk through the streets of Cairo; the moon is bright, and the hyena prowls not now, but mingles his howlings with those of the jackal afar off."

"Your face is whitened, Mustapha, and it pleaseth us. Let the disguises be prepared, and we will sally forth."

In a short time the disguises were ready, the vizier taking care that they should be those of Armenian merchants, knowing that the pacha would be pleased with the similarity to those worn by the great Alraschid; two black slaves, with their swords, followed the pacha and his vizier at a short distance. The streets were quite empty, and they met with nothing living except here and there a dog preying on the garbage and offal, who snapped and snarled as they passed by. The night promised nothing of adventure, and the pacha was in no very good humour, when Mustapha perceived a light through the chinks of a closed window in a small hovel, and heard the sound of a voice. He peeped through, the pacha standing by his side. After a few seconds the vizier made signs to the pacha to look in. The pacha was obliged to strain his fat body to its utmost altitude, standing on the tips of his toes to enable his eyes to reach the cranny. The interior of the hovel was without furniture, a chest in the centre of the mud floor appeared to serve as table and repository of everything in it, for the walls were bare. At the fireplace, in which were a few embers, crouched an old woman, a personification of age, poverty, and starvation. She was warming her shrivelled hands over the embers, and occasionally passed one of her hands along her bony arm, saying, "Yes, the time has been—the time has been."

"What can she mean," said the pacha to Mustapha, "by 'the time has been'?"

"It requires explanation," replied the vizier; "this is certain, that it must mean something."

"Thou hast said well, Mustapha; let us knock, and obtain admittance." Mustapha knocked at the door of the hovel.

"There's nothing to steal, so you may as well go," screamed the old woman; "but," continued she, talking to herself, "the time has been—the time has been."

The pacha desired Mustapha to knock louder. Mustapha applied the hilt of his dagger, and thumped against the door.

"Ay—ay—you may venture to knock now, the sultan's slippers are not at the door," said the old woman: "but," continued she, as before, "the time has been—the time has been."

"Sultan's slippers! and time has been!" cried the pacha. "What does the old hag mean? Knock again, Mustapha."

Mustapha reiterated his blows."

"Ay—knock—knock—my door is like my mouth; I open it when I choose, and I keep it shut when I choose, as once was well known. The time has been—the time has been."

"We have been a long time standing here, and I am tired of waiting; so, Mustapha, I think the time is come to kick the door open. Let it be done."

Whereupon Mustapha put his foot to the door, but it resisted his efforts. "Let me assist," said the pacha, and retreated a few paces; he and Mustapha backed against the door with all their force. It flew open, and they rolled together on the floor of the hovel. The old woman screamed, and then, jumping on the body of the pacha, caught him by the throat, crying, "Thieves; murder!" Mustapha hastened to the assistance of his master, as did the two black slaves, when they heard the cries, and with some difficulty the talons of the old Jezebel were disengaged from the throat of the pacha, who, in his wrath, would have immediately sacrificed her. "Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil!" exclaimed the pacha; "but this is pretty treatment for a pacha."

"Knowest thou, vile wretch, that thou hast taken by the throat, and nearly strangled, the Lord of Life—the pacha himself," said Mustapha.

"Well," replied the old woman, coolly, "the time has been—the time has been."

"What meanest thou, cursed hag, that 'the time has been'?"

"I mean that the time has been, when I have had more than one pacha strangled. Yes," continued she squatting down on the floor, and muttering, "the time has been."

The pacha's rage was now a little appeased. "Mustapha," said the pacha, "let this old woman be carefully guarded; to-morrow afternoon we will understand the meaning of those strange words, 'the time has been.' Depend upon it, thereby hangs a good story; we will have that first—and then," whispered the pacha, "her head off afterwards."

The old woman, hearing the order to take her into custody, again repeated. "Ah, very well—the time has been." The slaves laid hold of her; but she defended herself so vigorously with her teeth and nails, that they were under the necessity of gagging her, and tying her hand and foot. They then hoisted her on their shoulders, and marched off with her to the palace, followed by Mustapha and the pacha, the latter quite delighted with his adventure. When the divan of the ensuing day had closed, the old woman was ordered to be brought into the presence of the pacha; and as she refused to walk, she was brought on the shoulders of four of the guards, and laid on the floor of the council-chamber. "How dare you rebel against the sublime commands?" inquired Mustapha with severity.

"How dare I rebel!" cried the old woman with a shrill voice. "Why, what right has the pacha to drag me from my poor hovel; and what can he want with an old woman like me? It's not for his harem, I presume."

At this remark the pacha and Mustapha could not help laughing; having recovered his gravity, Mustapha observed, "One would imagine, old carrion that thou art, that the idea of such a punishment as the bastinado had never entered your mind."

"There you are mistaken, Mr Vizier, for I have suffered both the bastinado and the bowstring."

"And the bowstring! Holy Prophet! what a lying old hag!" exclaimed the pacha.

"No lie, pacha, no lie!" screamed the old woman in her wrath. "I have said it—and the bowstring. Yes, the time has been, when I was young and beautiful; and do you know why I suffered? I'll tell you—because I would not hold my tongue—and do you think that I will now that I'm an old piece of carrion? Yes—yes—the time has been."

"Fortunately, then," replied Mustapha, "you are not required by the pacha to hold your tongue. You are required to do the very contrary, which is, to speak."

"And do you know why I received the bowstring?" screamed the old hag. "I'll tell you—because I would not speak; and I do not intend so to do now, since I find that you wish that I should."

"Then it appears," said the pacha, taking the pipe out of his mouth, "that the bastinado was as ill-managed as the bowstring. We do these things better at Cairo. Hear me, old mother of Shitan! I wish to know what you mean by that expression which is ever in your mouth—'time has been.'"

"It means a great deal pacha, for it refers to my life—you want the story."

"Exactly," replied Mustapha, "so begin."

"You must pay me for it—it is worth twenty pieces of gold."

"Do you presume to make conditions with his sublime highness the pacha?" exclaimed Mustapha. "Why, thou mother of Afrits and Ghouls, if thou commencest not immediately, thy carcass shall be thrown over the walls for the wild dogs to smell at, and turn away from in disgust."

"Vizier, I have lived long enough to trust nobody. My price is twenty pieces of gold counted out in this shrivelled hand before I begin; and without they are paid down—not one word." And the old beldam folded her arms, and looked the pacha boldly in the face.

"God is great!" exclaimed the pacha. "We shall see." At his well-known signal the executioner made his appearance, and holding up the few scattered gray hairs which still remained upon her head, he raised his scimitar, awaiting the nod which was to be succeeded by the fatal blow.

"Strike, pacha, strike!" cried the old woman, scornfully. "I shall only lose a life of which I have long been weary; but you will lose a story of wonder, which you are so anxious to obtain. Strike—for the last time, I say, 'Time has been'—before time shall be no more!"

"That is true, Mustapha," observed the pacha. "I forgot the story. What an obstinate old devil; but I must hear the story."

"If it appears good to your absolute wisdom," said Mustapha, in a low voice, "would it not be better to count down to this avaricious old hag the twenty pieces of gold which she demands? When her story is ended, it will be easy to take them from her, and her head from her shoulders. Thus will be satisfied the demands of the old woman, and the demands of justice."

"Wallah Thaib! it is well said, by Allah! Your words are as pearls. Count out the money, Mustapha."

"His highness the pacha has been pleased, in consideration of the fear and trembling with which you have entered his presence, to order that the sum which you require shall be paid down," said Mustapha, pulling out his purse from his girdle. "Murakkas, you are dismissed," continued the vizier to the executioner, who let go the old woman, and disappeared. Mustapha counted out the twenty pieces of gold, and shoved them towards the old woman, who, after some demur, as if imagining that they ought to have been brought to her, got up and took possession of them. She counted them over, and returned one piece as being of light weight. Mustapha, with a grimace, but without speaking, exchanged it for another.

"By the beard of the Prophet!" muttered the pacha—"but never mind."

The old woman took out a piece of dirty rag, wrapped up the gold pieces, and placing them in her vest, smoothed down her sordid garments, and then commenced as follows:—

"Pacha, I have not always lived in a hovel. These eyes were not always bleared and dim, nor this skin wrinkled and discoloured. I have not always been covered with these filthy rags—nor have I always wanted or coveted the gold which you have just now bestowed on me. I have lived in palaces—I have commanded there. I have been robed in gold—I have been covered with jewels. I have dispensed life and death—I have given away provinces. Pachas have trembled at my frown—have received by my orders the bowstring—for at one time I was the favourite of the grand sultan. Time has been."

"It must have been a long time ago, then," observed the pacha.

"That is true," replied the old woman; "but I will now narrate my adventures."



STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN.

I was born in Georgia, where, as your highness knows, the women are reckoned to be more beautiful than in any other country, except indeed Circassia; but in my opinion, the Circassian women are much too tall, and on too large a scale, to compete with us; and I may safely venture my opinion, as I have had an opportunity of comparing many hundreds of the finest specimens of both countries. My father and mother, although not rich, were in easy circumstances; my father had been a janissary in the sultan's immediate employ, and after he had collected some property, he returned to his own country, where he purchased some land, and married. I had but one brother, who was three years older than myself, and one of the handsomest youths in the country. He was disfigured a little by a scarlet stain on his neck, somewhat in shape resembling a bunch of grapes, and which our national dress would not permit him to conceal. My father, intending that he should serve the sultan, brought him up to a perfect knowledge of every martial exercise. Even at fourteen years old, few could compete with him in the use of the bow, and throwing the djireed, and as a horseman he was perfect. As for me, I was, I am certain, intended for the sultan's seraglio, for as a child I was beautiful as a houri. My father was a man who would not scruple to part with his children for gold, provided he obtained his price. I was considered, and I believe that I was, the most beautiful girl in the country, and every care was taken that I should not injure my appearance or hurt my complexion by domestic labour or exposure. I was not permitted to assist my mother, who, induced by my father's orders, waited upon me. I was indulged in every whim, and I grew up as selfish and capricious as I was beautiful. Smile not, pacha—time has been.

One day, when I was about fourteen years old, I was sitting at the porch, when a large body of Turkish cavalry suddenly made their appearance from a wood close to the house, and surrounded it. They evidently came for me, for they demanded me by name, threatening to burn the house down to the ground, if I was not immediately delivered up. Our house, which was situated near the confines of the country, had been constructed for defence; and my father, expecting assistance from his neighbours, refused to acquiesce in their terms. The assault was made, my father and mother, with all their household, were murdered, my brother severely wounded, the house plundered, and burnt to the outside walls. I was, of course, a prisoner as well as my brother. He was tied, wounded as he was, upon one horse, and I upon another, and in a few hours the party had regained the frontiers. A young man, handsome as an angel, was the leader of the band, and I soon perceived that all his thoughts and attentions, were directed to me. He watched me with the greatest solicitude when we halted, procured me every comfort, and was always hovering about my presence. From the discourse of the soldiers I discovered that he was the only son of the grand vizier at Stamboul. He had heard of my beauty, had seen me, and offered a large sum to my father, who had refused, as his ambition was, that I should belong to the sultan—in consequence I had been carried off by force. I could have loved the beautiful youth, although he had murdered my father and mother, but it was the taking me by force which steeled my heart, and I vowed that I never would listen to his addresses, although I was so completely in his power. During the time that I had been in his possession I had never spoken one word, and it came into my head that I would pretend to be dumb. In three weeks we arrived at Constantinople. Since I quitted the country I never had seen my brother, his wound was too severe to allow him to travel with the same rapidity, and it was not until years afterwards that I knew what had become of him. I was taken to Osman Ali's house, and allowed a few days' repose from the fatigue of the journey; after which, as I was still but a child, I was ordered to be instructed in music, dancing, singing, and every other accomplishment considered necessary for the ladies of a harem. But I adhered to my resolution, every method to induce me to speak was tried in vain; even blows, torture from pinching, and other means were resorted to, but would not induce me to swerve from my resolution; at last they concluded that I was either born dumb, or had become so from fright at the time that the attack and slaughter of my family took place. I was eighteen months in the harem of Osman Ali, and never spoke one word.

* * * * *

"Mashallah! but this is wonderful!" exclaimed the pacha—"a woman hold her tongue for eighteen months! Who is to believe this?"

"Not at all wonderful!" replied the old woman, "when you recollect that she was required to speak."

* * * * *

Once and once only, did I nearly break through my resolution. Two of the principal favourites were conversing in my presence.

"I cannot imagine," said one, "what Ali can see in this little minx to be so infatuated with her. She is very ugly—her mouth is large—her teeth are yellow—and her eyes not only have no expression, but look different ways. She has one shoulder higher than the other, and worse than all, being dumb, cannot be taught anything but dancing, which only shows her ugly broad feet."

"That is all true," replied the other. "If I was Ali, I should employ her as a common slave; she is fit for nothing but to roll up and beat carpets, boil rice, and prepare our coffee. A little of the slipper on her mouth would soon bring her to her senses."

I must own that I was near breaking through my resolution, that I might have indulged my revenge, and had not the door suddenly opened, I should have proved to them that I could have spoken to some purpose, for never would I have ceased, until they had both been sewn up in sacks, and cast into the Bosphorus. But I restrained myself, although my cheeks burned with rage, and I more than once put my hand to my jewelled dagger.

I was often visited by Osman Ali, who in vain attempted to make me speak; a harsh guttural sound was all which I would utter to express pain or pleasure. At last, being convinced that I was dumb, he exchanged me with a slave-merchant for a beautiful Circassian girl. He did not state my supposed infirmity, but gave it as a reason for parting with me, that I was too young, and required to be taught. As soon as the bargain was struck, and the merchant had received the money which had been given by Ali to effect the exchange, I was despoiled of my dress and ornaments, and put in a litter, to be conveyed to the house of the slave-merchant. As your highness may imagine, not a little tired of holding my tongue for a year and a half——

* * * * *

"By the beard of the prophet, we can believe you on that point, good woman. You may proceed."

"Yes, yes, I may proceed. You think women have no resolution, and no souls—be it so—and what you dignify with the name of perseverance in your own sex, you call obstinacy in ours. Be it so—time has been."

* * * * *

I was no sooner in the litter than I let loose my tongue, and called out to the women who were appointed to conduct me to the door of the harem. "Tell Osman Ali, that now that I am no longer his slave, I have found my tongue." Then closing the curtains, I was carried away. As soon as I arrived, I told the merchant all that had passed, and the reason why Ali had parted with me. The merchant, who was astonished at having made so good a bargain, laughed heartily at my narrative. He told me that he intended me for the seraglio of the sultan—flattered me by declaring that I should be certainly the favourite, and advised me to profit all I could by the masters he would provide. In the meantime, Osman Ali having heard from the women the message I had sent, was very wroth, and came to the slave-merchant to procure me again; but the slave-merchant informed him that the Kislar Aga of the sultan had seen me, and ordered me to be reserved for the imperial seraglio; by this falsehood screening himself, not only from Ali's importunities, but also from his vengeance. I took the advice of my master, and in a little more than a year became a proficient in music and most other accomplishments; I also learnt to write and read, and to repeat most of the verses of Hafiz, and other celebrated poets. At seventeen I was offered to the Kislar Aga as a prodigy of beauty and talent. The Kislar Aga came to see me, and was astonished; he saw at once that I should immediately become first favourite; and having heard me sing and play, he demanded my price, which was enormous. He reported me to the sultan, stating that he had never beheld such perfection, and at the same time informing him of the exorbitant demand of the slave-merchant. The sultan, who had felt little interest in the inmates of his harem, and was anxious for novelty, ordered the sum to be paid, and I was conducted to the seraglio in a royal litter.

That I was anxious to be purchased by the sultan I confess: my pride rebelled at the idea of being a slave, and if I was to be so, at least I wished to be the slave of the sultan. I indulged the idea that I should soon bring him to subjection, and that the slave would lord it over her master, and that master the dispenser of life and death, honour and disgrace, to millions. I had made up my mind how to behave; the poets I had read had taught me but too well. Convinced that a little wilfulness would, from its novelty, be most likely to captivate one who had been accustomed to dull and passive obedience, I allowed my natural temper to be unchecked. The second day after my arrival, the Kislar Aga informed me that the sultan intended to honour me with a visit, and that the baths and dresses were prepared. I replied that I had bathed that morning, and did not intend to bathe again—as for the dresses and jewels, I did not require them, and that I was ready to receive my lord the sultan, if he pleased to come. The Kislar Aga opened his eyes with astonishment at my presumption, but not venturing to use force to one who, in his opinion, would become the favourite, he returned to the sultan, reporting to him what had passed. The sultan, as I expected, was more amused at the novelty than affronted at the want of respect. "Be it so," replied he; "this Georgian must have a good opinion of her own charms."

In the evening the sultan made his appearance, and I prostrated myself at his feet, for I did not wish to proceed too far at once. He raised me up and appeared delighted.

"You are right, Zara," said he; "no jewels or dress could add to the splendour of your beauty."

"Pardon me, O gracious lord," replied I, "but if thy slave is to please thee, may it be by her natural charms alone. If I have the honour to continue in thy favour, let me adorn myself with those jewels which ought to decorate the chosen of her master—but as a candidate I have rejected them, for who knows but in a few days I may be deserted for one more worthy of your preference?"

The sultan was delighted at my apology, and I certainly was pleased with him. He was then about forty years of age, very handsome and well made; but I was still more gratified to find that my conversation amused him so much that he remained with me for many hours after his usual time for retiring. This gave promise of an ascendancy which might survive personal charms. But not to detain your highness, I will at once state, the sultan soon thought but of me. Not only my personal attractions, but my infinite variety, which appeared natural, but was generally planned and sketched out previous to his visits, won so entirely upon him, that so far from being tired, his passion, I may say his love, for me was every day increased.

* * * * *

"Well, it may be all true," observed the pacha, looking at the wrinkled and hideous object before him. "What do you say, Mustapha?"

"O pacha! we know not yet her history. The mother of your slave, as I have heard from my father, was once most beautiful. She is still in our harem, and pooh," said Mustapha, spitting, as if in abhorrence.

"Right, good vizier—right—recollect, pacha, what I have said: time has been." The pacha nodded, and the old woman proceeded.

* * * * *

Once sure of the sultan's affections, I indulged myself in greater liberties—not with him, but with others; for I knew that he would laugh at the tricks I might play upon his dependents, but not be equally pleased with a want of respect towards himself; and other people of the harem were the objects of my caprice and amusement. So far from preventing him from noticing the other women in the harem, I would recommend them, and often have them in my apartments when he would visit me, and wish to be alone. I generally contrived to manage a little quarrel about once a month, as it renewed his passion. In short, the sultan became, as I intended, so infatuated, that he was my slave, and at the same time I felt an ardent attachment to him. My power was well known. The presents which I received from those who required my good offices were innumerable, and I never retained them, but sent them as presents to the sultan, in return for those which he repeatedly sent to me. This indifference on my part to what women are usually too fond of, increased his regard.

* * * * *

"By the holy Prophet but you seemed fond enough of gold just now," observed the pacha.

"Time has been," replied the old woman. "I speak not of the present."

* * * * *

For two years I passed a happy life; but anxious as the sultan was, as well as myself, that I should present him with an heir, that happiness was denied me, and was eventually the cause of my ruin. The queen mother, and the Kislar Aga, both of whom I had affronted, were indefatigable in their attempts to undermine my power. The whole universe, I may say, was ransacked for a new introduction into the seraglio, whose novelty and beauty might seduce the sultan from my arms. Instead of counter-plotting, as I might have done, I was pleased at their frustrated efforts. Had I demanded the woolly head of the one, and poisoned the other, I had done wisely. I only wish I had them now; but I was a fool—it cannot be helped—but time has been.

Like most of the sex, the ruling passion of the sultan was vanity, a disease which shows itself in a thousand different shapes. He was peculiarly proud of his person, and with reason, for it was faultless, with one little exception, which I had discovered, a wen, about the size of a pigeon's egg, under the left arm. I had never mentioned to him that I was aware of it; but a circumstance occurred which annoyed me, and I forgot my discretion.

The Kislar Aga had at last discovered a Circassian slave, who, he thought, would effect the purpose. She was beautiful, and I had already engrossed the sultan's attentions for more than two years. Men will be fickle, and I expected no otherwise. What I required was the dominion over the mind; I cared little about the sultan's attentions to other women. Like the tamed bird which flies from its cage, and after wandering a short time, is glad to return to its home and reassume its perch, so did I consider it would be the case with the sultan. I never, therefore, wearied him with tears or reproaches, but won him back with smiles and good humour. I expected that this new face would detach him for a short time, and for a fortnight he never came into my apartment. He had never been away so long before, and I was rather uneasy. He visited me one morning, and I asked him to sup with me. He consented, and I invited three or four of the most beautiful women of the seraglio, as well as the lady of his new attachment, to meet him. I thought it wise so to do, to prove to him that I was not displeased, and trusting that the Circassian might suffer when in company with others of equal charms, who from neglect might reassume their novelty. The Circassian was undeniably most beautiful; but, without vanity, she was by no means to be compared to me; she had the advantage of novelty, and I hoped no more, for I felt what a dangerous rival she might prove if her wit and talents were equal to her personal charms. The sultan came, and I exerted myself to please, but, to my mortification, I was neglected; all his attentions and thoughts were only for my rival, who played her part to admiration, yielded to him that profound respect and abject adulation, which, on my part, had been denied him, and which he probably, as a novelty from a favourite, set a higher price upon. At last I was treated with such marked insult, that I lost my temper, and I determined that the sultan should do the same. I handed him a small apple. "Will my lord accept this apple from the hand of his slave? Is it not curious in shape? It reminds me of the wen under your Majesty's left arm."

The sultan coloured with rage.

"Yes," replied I, laughing, "you have one of them, you know very well."

"Silence! Zara," cried the sultan, in a firm tone.

"And why should I be silent, my lord? Have not I spoken the truth?"

"False woman! deny what you have falsely uttered."

"Sultan, I will not deny the truth. I will, if you command me, hold my tongue."

"Your slave has been honoured with my lord's attentions, and denies the assertion as a calumny," observed my rival.

"Peace, wretch! thou hast proved thyself unworthy of the honour, by thy lying tongue."

"I tell thee, Zara, silence! or you shall feel my indignation."

But I was now too angry, and I replied, "My lord, you well know that I once held my tongue for eighteen months, I therefore can be silent when I choose; but I can also speak when I choose, and now I do choose to speak. I have said it, and I will not retract my words."

The sultan was white with rage; my life hung upon a thread; when the Circassian maliciously observed, "The bastinado might induce her to retract."

"And shall," exclaimed the sultan, clapping his hands.

The Kislar Aga appeared, in obedience to the sultan's orders; the executioner of the harem, and two slaves stretched me on the floor,—I made no resistance or complaint; my jewelled slippers were taken off, and all was ready for the disgraceful punishment.

"Now, Zara, will you retract?" said the sultan, solemnly.

"No, my lord, I will not. I repeat that you have a wen under your left arm."

"Strike!" cried the sultan, in a paroxysm of rage. The bamboos fell, and I received a dozen blows. I bore them without a cry,—I was too much choked by my feelings.

"Now, Zara, will you retract?" exclaimed the sultan, in a subdued tone.

"Never, sultan; I will prove to you that a woman has more courage than you imagine; if I die under the punishment, my rival shall not have even the pleasure of a groan. You ask me to retract. I will not swerve from the truth. You have, and you know you have, and so does that vile parasite by your side know, that you have a wen under your left arm." I was faint with the pain, and my voice was weak and trembling.

"Proceed," said the sultan.

When I had received thirty blows, I fainted with the agony, and the sultan ordered them to desist. "I trust, Zara, you are now sufficiently punished for your disobedience." But I heard him not; and when the sultan, perceiving that I did not reply, looked at me, his heart melted. He felt how arbitrary, how cruel he had been. The Circassian went to him; he ordered her in a voice of thunder to be gone, me to be unbound by the other ladies, laid on the sofa, and restoratives to be procured. When I came to my senses, I found myself alone with the sultan. "Oh! Zara," said he, as the tears stood in his eyes, "why did you tempt me thus—why were you so obstinate?"

"My lord," answered I, in a feeble voice, "leave your slave, and go to those who can teach their tongues to lie. I have never deceived you, although I may have displeased you. I have loved you with fidelity and truth. Now that you have witnessed what I can suffer rather than be guilty of falsehood, you ought to believe me. Take my life, my lord, and I will bless you; for I have lost you, and with you I have lost more than life."

"Not so, Zara," replied the sultan; "I love you more than ever."

"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, although it is now of no avail. I am no longer yours, and never will be. I am unfit to be yours; my person has been contaminated by the touch of Ethiopian slaves—it has been polluted by the hand of the executioner—it has been degraded by a chastisement due only to felons. Oblige me, as a last proof of your kindness, by taking a life which is a burden to me."

Despot as he was, the sultan was much moved; he was mortified at having yielded to his temper, and his passionate affection for me had returned. He entreated my pardon, and shed tears over me, kissed my swelled feet, and humiliated himself so much, that my heart relented—for I loved him dearly still.

"Zara," exclaimed he, at last, "will you not forgive me?"

"When, my lord, have I ever shown myself jealous? True love is above jealousy. This evening, to please you, although I have lately been neglected, did I not request your new favourite to meet you? In return, I was grossly insulted by neglect, and studied attentions to her. I was piqued, and revenged myself—for I am but a woman. I was wrong in so doing, but having told the truth, I was right in not retracting what I had said. Now that you have degraded me—now that you have rendered me unworthy of you, you ask me to forgive you."

"And again I implore it, my dearest Zara!"

"There are my jewels, my lord. I have no other property but what I have received, and cherished as presents from you. Your treasurer well knows that. Take my jewels, my lord, and present them to her, they will make her more beautiful in your sight—to me they are now worthless. Go to her, and in a few days you will forget that ever there was such a person as the unhappy, the neglected, the disgraced, and polluted Zara." And I burst into tears; for even with all his ill-usage, I was miserable at the idea of parting with him; for what will not a woman forgive a man who has obtained her favour and her love?

"What can I do to prove that I repent?" cried the sultan. "Tell me, Zara. I have supplicated for pardon, what more can I do?"

"Let my lord efface all traces and memory of my degradation. Was not I struck by two vile slaves, who will babble through the city? Was not I held down by an executioner? These arms, which have wound round the master of the world, and no other, polluted by his gripe."

The sultan clapped his hands, and the Kislar Aga appeared. "Quick," exclaimed he, "the heads of the slaves and executioner who inflicted the punishment." In a minute the Kislar Aga appeared; he perceived how matters stood, and trembled for his own. He held up the three heads, one after another, and then returned them to the sack of sawdust in which they had been brought.

"Are you satisfied now, Zara?"

"For myself, yes—but not for you. Who was it that persuaded you to descend from your dignity, and lower yourself, by yielding to the instigations of malice? Who was it that advised the bastinado? As a woman, I am too proud to be jealous of her; but as one who values your honour, and your reputation, I cannot permit you to have so dangerous a counsellor. Your virgins, your omras, your princes, will all be at her mercy; your throne may be overturned by her taking advantage of her power."

The sultan hesitated.

"Sultan, you have but to choose between two things; if she be alive to-morrow morning, I am dead by my own hand. You know I never lie."

The sultan clapped his hands, the Kislar Aga again appeared. "Her head," said he, hesitatingly. The Kislar Aga waited a little, to ascertain if there was no reprieve, for too hasty a compliance with despots is almost as dangerous as delay. He caught my eye—he saw at once, that if not her head, it would be his own, and he quitted the room. In a few minutes he held up by its fair tresses the head of my beautiful rival; I looked at the distorted features, and was satisfied. I motioned with my hand, and the Kislar Aga withdrew.

"Now, Zara, do you forgive me? Now do you believe that I sincerely love you, and have I obtained my pardon?"

"Yes," replied I, "I do, sultan; I forgive you all; and now——I will permit you to sit by me and bathe my feet."

From that day I resumed my empire with more despotic power than ever. I insisted that I should refuse his visits when I felt so inclined; and when I imagined that there was the slightest degree of satiety on his part, he was certain to be refused admittance for a fortnight. I became the depositary of his secrets and the mover of his counsels. My sway was unlimited, and I never abused it. I loved him, and his honour and his welfare were the only guides to my conduct.

* * * * *

"But your highness will probably be tired, and as I have now told how it was that I suffered the bastinado, you will perhaps wait till to-morrow for the history of the bowstring."

"I believe that the old woman is right," said Mustapha, yawning; "it is late. Is it your highness's pleasure that she shall return to-morrow evening?"

"Be it so; but let her be in close custody—you remember."

"Be chesm—on my eyes be it. Guards, remove this woman from the sublime presence."

"It appears to me," said the pacha to Mustapha, "that this old woman's story may be true. The description of the harem is so correct—commanding one day, bastinadoed the next."

"Who can doubt the fact, your sublime highness? The Lord of Life dispenses as he thinks fit."

"Very true; he might send me the bowstring to-morrow."

"Allah forbid!"

"I pray with you; but life is uncertain, and it is our fate. You are my vizier to-day, for instance, what may you be to-morrow?"

"Whatever your highness may decide," replied Mustapha, not much liking the turn of the conversation. "Am not I your slave, and as the dirt under your feet—and shall I not bow to your sovereign pleasure, and my destiny?"

"It is well said, and so must I, if the caliph sends me a Capitan Badji, which Allah forbid. There is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet."

"Amen," replied Mustapha. "Will your highness drink of the water of Giaour?"

"Yes, truly; for what says the poet? 'We are merry to-day and to-morrow we die.'"

"Min Allah; God forbid! That old woman has lived a long while, why shouldn't we?"

"I don't know; but she has had the bowstring and is not yet dead. We may not be so fortunate."

"May we never have it at all; then shall we escape, O pacha."

"True, Mustapha; so give me the bottle."



Chapter XXI

The next evening the old woman made her appearance, without raising any difficulty, as on the previous day, and took her seat before the pacha, and thus continued:—

As I stated to your highness last evening when I broke off my narrative, I was in the highest favour with the sultan, who made me his confidant. He had often mentioned to me the distinguished services of a young seraskier, whom he had lately appointed capitan pacha, to combat in the north against a barbarous nation called Sclavonians, or Russians. My curiosity was raised to see this Rustam of a warrior, for his exploits and unvaried success were constantly the theme of the sultan's encomiums. A Georgian slave, who had been the favourite previous to my arrival, and who had never forgiven my supplanting her, had been sent to him by the sultan as a compliment; and this rare distinction had been conferred upon him on the day when I requested leave to remain behind the screen in the hall of the divan, that I might behold this celebrated and distinguished person. He was indeed a splendid figure, and his face was equally perfect. He formed, in outward appearance, all that I could imagine of a hero. As I looked at him from behind the screen, he turned his head from me, and I beheld, to my surprise, the red stain on his neck, which told me, at once, that I had found my long-lost brother. Delighted at the rencontre, I retired as soon as the audience was over, and the sultan came to my apartment; I told him the discovery which I had made. The sultan appeared pleased at the information: and the next day sending for my brother, he asked him a few questions relative to his lineage and former life, which corroborated my story, and, loading him with fresh honours, he dismissed him. I was delighted that, in finding my brother, I had found one who was not unworthy of the sultan's regard, and I considered it a most fortunate circumstance; but how blind are mortals! My brother was the cause of my disgrace and eternal separation from the sultan. I mentioned to your highness that the Georgian slave, who had preceded me in the sultan's favour, had been sent as a present to my brother. This woman, although she had always appeared fond of me, was, in fact, my most bitter enemy. She was very beautiful and clever, and soon obtained the most unlimited influence over my brother. Yet she loved him not; she had but one feeling to gratify, which was revenge on me. My brother had so often led the troops to victory, that he had acquired an unbounded sway over them. Stimulated by their suggestions, and his own ambition, which like mine, was boundless, he was at last induced to plot against his master, with the intention of dethroning him, and reigning in his stead. To his new wife, the Georgian, he had intrusted his plans; and she resolved to regain the favour of the sultan and accomplish my ruin, by making me a party, and then communicating to him the treason which was in agitation. She proposed to my brother that he should inform me of his intentions, alleging, that in all probability I would assist him, as I cared little for the sultan; and at all events, if I did not join, my interest might save him from his wrath. For some time he refused to accede to her suggestions; but as she pointed out that if the plot were discovered, I, as his sister, would certainly share his fate, and that she well knew that I had never forgiven the punishment of the bastinado which I had received, and only waited for an opportunity to revenge myself, he at last consented to make me a party to his intentions. My brother had been allowed to visit me, and he took this opportunity of stating to me his schemes. I started from him with horror, pointed out to him his ingratitude and folly, and entreated him to abandon his purpose. Convinced that I was firmly attached to the sultan, he appeared to acquiesce in the justice of my remarks, confessed that he was wrong, and promised me faithfully to think no more of his treacherous designs. I believed him to be sincere, and I shed tears of joy, as I thanked him for having yielded to my entreaties. We separated, and in a short time I thought no more of the subject.