Part 29 (2/2)
”The Grand Seignior gave him his own daughter to wife, and loaded him with every favour. One day Ajas lost a battle against the Zrinyis. It was not a great defeat, but the Sultan was wrath and beheaded Ajas Pasha.”
”H'm! I recollect, it was a sad story.”
”And dost thou remember the story of the faithful Hia.s.sar? Ajas charged him to bring to him before his death his favourite wife, not his whole harem which thou hast brought to Ha.s.san Pasha, but only his favourite wife, that he might take leave of her; and dost thou know that for doing this thing the Sultan had Hia.s.sar roasted to death in a copper ox? For a disgraced favourite possesses nothing--all he had is the Sultan's, his treasures, his wives and his children; and whoever lays his hand upon them is robbing the Sultan. Who knows, Yffim Beg, but what at this moment I may not be the Sultan's slave-girl? and from slave-girl to favourite is but a step, and thou knowest it would be but a short step for me.”
”What accursed things thou art saying.”
”The wife of Ajas Beg was the Sultan's favourite at the time when Hia.s.sar was burnt, and a word from her would have saved him. But she said it not, because she was wrath with him; methinks the woman loved him once, and the slave despised her love. Give me my mandoline, Yffim, I would sing a song.”
The odalisk lay back upon the bed, while Yffim anxiously paced to and fro like a hyena fallen into a snare. The story just related had a striking resemblance to his own, and it would not take very much to give it a similar termination.
Suddenly he stood before the damsel, who nonchalantly strummed the strings of her instrument.
”What dost thou want?”
”Ask not what thou knowest.”
”Thou wouldst save Feriz?”
”I will save him.”
”I swear by Allah it is not to be done. Die he must, if only to tame thee; for if he remain alive thou wilt destroy the lot of us sooner or later.”
Azrael collapsed at the feet of the Beg. Sobbing, she embraced his knees.
”Oh, be merciful! Say but a word for him to the general. I love the youth as thou canst see and dost very well know. Do not let him peris.h.!.+”
Like all little souls, Yffim Beg became all the bolder at these supplicating words, and seizing Azrael by the arms, roughly pulled her to her feet, and whispered in her ear with malicious joy:
”I'll make thee a present of his head.”
At these words the woman raised her head, her eyes like those of a furious she-wolf seemed to glow with green fire, her tresses curled like serpents round her bosom. She said not a word, but her tightly clenched teeth kept back a whole h.e.l.l of dumb fury.
At that moment the Vizier returned.
Azrael at once put on a smile. Ha.s.san could not see what was seething in her heart.
Yffim approached the Pasha confidentially.
”Does the Sultan know of thy disaster?”
”He has heard it since.”
”It would be as well to send me with gifts to the Porte.”
”Ask not that honour for thyself, Yffim; learn, rather, that whomsoever I send to Stambul now is as good as sent to Paradise. The Sultan's wrath is kindled, and he can only quench it with blood.”
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