"I do not know what to do," he said, after a long silence. "I have no military force, and in Praousta dwell more than fifty brave, bold men. You know I have only fifty collectors in my service in all the districts of the peninsula. I do not know where to begin; even if Ihad the men, I would very unwillingly use force. I believe the best thing I can do would be to go down, with a few servants, to the village, and seek, by kind words, to quiet the people, and induce them to pay the tax. What do you think, my son, Osman?"Mohammed listened, with flashing eyes, to the tschorbadji; and breathlessly awaited Osman's answer. But Osman only looked at his friend, and said to his father, "Ask Mohammed what he thinks.""Well, then, you speak, Mohammed," said the tschorbadji; "what do you think of my proposition?""I think that such a thing should never be permitted. It does not become you to go and beg, when you should command, governor," he cried. "Will you empower me to collect the tax?""How will you do it?" asked the tschorbadji, with a doubting smile.
"That is my secret, governor. Give me authority to treat with the rebels, and give me, in addition, two collectors and six armed soldiers.""I will give you my small body-guard. They are eight in number, and I give you full authority to collect the tax.""I thank you, governor," cried Mohammed, with a beaming face. "You have given me a weighty commission, and you shall see that I will justify the confidence you place in me. I will go at once.""Do so, and I will order my men to obey you in all things," said the tschorbadji.
"Farewell, my Osman," cried Mohammed his whole being as full of energy and determination as if he were going to battle. He bowed smilingly to his friend, and passed from the hall with a firm step.
The collectors received the tschorbadji's order, to return to Praousta with Mohammed, with bowed heads and anxious countenances.
"They will murder us." groaned one of them. "They are all armed with swords and knives, and they will tear our arms from us at once.""If they should tear your arms from you, and you do not fall upon them, with tooth and nail," cried Mohammed, with determined look, "you are nothing but cowards, and I will kill you with my own hand."The tschorbadji had, in the mean time, called his small body guard together, and commanded them to go down to Praousta with Mohammed, and to obey him in all things.
"Come, then, my men, let us go," cried Mohammed.
The tschorbadji detained him a moment. "Will you not take a weapon, you are entirely unarmed?""Yes, I will take a weapon. Not that I fear for myself; no, I have no fear; but I will make one more combatant against the rebels. Give me a sword and a pistol."The tschorbadji himself brought both to him, and then bade him farewell.
Mohammed, at the head of the eight soldiers and the two collectors, went down the mountain path to the village. There every thing had become quiet. Obeying the words of the sheik, the men had gone to their huts, and did not see that Mohammed and his followers had entered the great mosque, which stood at the entrance of the village. Then Mohammed bowed down within the holy of holies, and, turning his head toward Mecca, prayed in a low voice to the prophet "Thou seest, my lord and God, that I have raised my foot to take the first step on the way to my great future. Uphold my feet, let me not fall into the abyss of forgetfulness. Give me strength, that I may go forward without fainting. Be with me, Mohammed, thou great prophet. Permit thy stars to be a light unto me, and be merciful to the poorest of thy servants!"Then, raising himself proudly up, he ordered the soldiers to close three of the entrances of the mosque, and to leave only the principal door open.
"Now draw your swords. Four of you remain with me in the mosque-the four others go down to the sheik and the ulemas. Inform them that an ambassador has come from the tschorbadji, to bring them an important message. Each of you three must bring one of the ulemas with you, and the fourth must bring the sheik here to me. Go at once, and return quickly.-And you," he said, turning to the four who remained behind, "swear to me, in the name of Allah and the prophet, that you will be hewn in pieces sooner than yield to the rebels!"They all swore, placing their hands upon their swords, that they would be hewn in pieces sooner than yield. Mohammed nodded graciously to them.
"Good! When the soldiers bring the men we will surround them, and the rest will follow."Their hands upon their swords, the soldiers stood waiting beside the door.
Mohammed remained silent and thoughtful in the middle of the mosque.
He felt that a great, an important moment had come for him. He thought of his mother. "She hovers over me; she looks down, and sees her son enter on a new life. When I leave the mosque, I will be no longer the poor, despised boy; I will have proved myself a man. O my mother, look down on me, and pray to Allah to be merciful to me!"A dark shadow crossed the rays of the sun which fell through the open door. It was one of the soldiers who came in with the sheik.
Mohammed did not step forward to meet him, as he should have done, out of respect for the old man, with his white beard. To-day he was no longer the poor boy, who must bow down before his superiors. He was himself one of the powers that be. He held his head aloft while the sheik approached.
"I was summoned in the name of the tschorbadji," said the sheik, looking with astonishment at Mohammed. "It is very strange that Ifind here no one but Mohammed Ali, the son of Ibrahim Aga. Had Iknown that the tschorbadji had sent a boy to me, I would have required him to bring me the message.""I summoned you in the name of the tscborbadji, and in his name Istand here!" said Mohammed, proudly. "I am not a boy, as you are pleased to call me, but an acknowledged authority. I have received my authority from the tschorbadji, and I demand submission from you!""Submission to you!" exclaimed the sheik, with a contemptuous glance.
