REVENGE.
The night was mild and warm; the sea rested in silent majesty like a slumbering lion, and the wind seemed to hold its breath in order that his repose might not be disturbed. To be in the open air on such a night was good for the weak breast of an invalid, and Osman's father was therefore not surprised when his son expressed a desire to pass the night in the garden pavilion, in preference to remaining in the close apartments of the palace. He would be protected from wind and rain by the roof of the pavilion, and from all other sources of danger the two slaves that had been his faithful and devoted servants from his earliest youth would guard him. The two servants carried his cushions down into the garden, and Osman now lay there, wrapped in his silken coverlet; the two slaves were crouched down at his side. They were still there when the tschorbadji, before retiring for the night, came down to see his son once more and bid him good-night; and there they remained until all the lights were extinguished in the apartments of the tschorbadji as well as in those of the pacha. Then, when all had become still, one of them stooped down and addressed his master in low tones; after they had carried on a short, whispered conversation the slave arose and glided noiselessly away toward the garden-wall, which formed no obstacle to his progress--as the faithful servant could climb like a cat--and he was soon on the other side.
Osman remained on his couch, conversing in low tones with the other servant. Both were attentively observing the pacha's harem, and it surprised them to see that lights were being carried to and fro in the lower apartments at so late an hour.
"Something extraordinary is surely taking place there," murmured Osman, "and we must be on our guard, and listen to the slightest noise."Hours passed, and the same activity was still being displayed in the harem; and from time to time the attentive servant perceived shadows flitting up and down the avenue that led to the harem.
Footsteps are now heard approaching. It is the slave Nadeg, and he comes swiftly to his master's couch, kneels down and speaks to him for some time in low, earnest tones. Osman rises from his cushions.
"The time has come, we must warn him, we must help him! Be quick, both of you!--Jabad, hasten to the summit of the rock. Here, take the pistol and give the signal agreed upon, three shots fired at short intervals.--But you, Nadeg, hasten down to the mouth of the cave again, and when, aroused by my shots, my friend comes out, call him, tell him I am awaiting him, and bring him to me at once. Oh, Iam anxious on his account: be quick, that you may get there in time!"The two walk stealthily and rapidly down the garden-path. Osman listens to their retreating footsteps, and, as they die away in the distance, he draws a breath of relief. They are good, zealous servants, and will obey his instructions faithfully. He listens again eagerly, and again looks over toward the harem, where be sees the lights still flitting about and shadows passing the windows.
Osman's heart tells him that something unusual, something that bodes no good to his friend, is going on there, and his love gives strength to his poor, weak body. He rises from his cushions; his limbs are stiff, and his breast pains him, but he is heedless of this. Cautiously he descends the steps into the garden, and walks noiselessly down the pathway. He knows that a high hedge separates the garden of the harem from the rest of the park at the end of this path. Hitherto all have respected this boundary, and no one has dared to cross it; may the good spirits pardon the young man for venturing to do so now! He is in the garden of the harem. It is certainly dangerous to enter it, and, if the eunuchs should discover him there, they would seize him. But, fortunately, he is the tschorbadji's son, and that will protect him. He is on his father's property. He walks onward, no longer painfully; he no longer feels that his breast hurts him; he is only thinking of his friend; he can perhaps discover something for him, perhaps something for him. He now stands still and listens. In the distance he hears the reports of the pistol.
"Ah, Mohammed is warned! He has been aroused from his sweet repose, and will come to me."But he must know what all this disturbance and running about means.
Osman has approached close to the harem, and stands at the iron gate that opens into the court-yard. He stands there for a moment and listens, and then crosses the court-yard and looks toward the door in the wall that opens into the street. All is still in the house, as in the yard; but now he hears a noise at the door that opens into the vestibule of the building. It is opened, and two dark figures appear, and descend the steps into the yard. They are carrying something; it looks like a cot; it is a cot covered with white sheets, but it is empty. They carry it across the yard, and out into the street.
He hears them lock the door from the outside; hears the murmuring of voices, and then all is again quiet. What was the cot intended for?
What could it all mean?
He listens, and looks around anxiously; but all is still. Perhaps his care and anxiety have been groundless; perhaps these are only things the servants are carrying to the ship to prepare for Cousrouf's departure on the morrow.
He again listens awhile, and then returns through the garden to the pavilion. Wearily he throws himself on his cushions, and lies there, for a moment, with closed eyes.
Now he hears footsteps approaching. Who can it be? he asks in a low voice, and the two servants emerge from the darkness, come to his side, and whisper something in his ear. Osman draws a breath of relief.
"Allah be praised, he is coming, he is saved!"Yes, other footsteps are now rapidly approaching, and, in a moment, Mohammed is at his friend's side.
