"I have met with an accident: in crossing the court-yard I sprained my ankle slightly, and I cannot walk, as it pains me. You must therefore do me the kindness to al low yourself to be carried down with me in the palanquin. It will excite no surprise; the soldiers saw me when the accident occurred, and no one will suppose it is on your account.""It seems to me, father," replied Osman, gravely, "that the bim bashi should walk down, and await his soldiers standing.""And he shall," said his father, quickly. "Below he shall await his soldiers, standing, while the poor tschorbadji must remain seated in his palanquin.-Oh, the pain! Let me support myself on your arm, Mohammed! You have no idea how my foot hurts!"Osman averted his face, that they might not see the tears that stood in his eyes. He discerned, only too well, that they both knew his weakness and were tenderly caring for him!
But, in spirit at least, he must be a man, and he turns and looks at them firmly and composedly.
"Then come, father. I will go down with you in the palanquin."The slaves and servants saw the tschorbadji, supported by Mohammed, limp to the palanquin; Osman followed them with firm footstep, his head proudly erect. The people rejoiced in his stately appearance, and in the glittering uniform that became him so well.
Osman was carried down to Praousta at his father's side. The fishermen, who stood there awaiting him, greeted the young bim bashi with loud huzzas. They wished him happiness and success in his military career.
Osman thanked them in a loud, clear voice, and no one knew what pain the effort cost him. Arrived at the shore, he stepped out of the palanquin with an appearance of joyous haste, and took up his position beside his father to receive from the soldiers, who were now approaching, Mohammed at their head, the military honors. And now the hour of leave taking had arrived. The admiral's boat had come to convey the bim bashi to the ship. The tschorbadji insisted on accompanying his son on board, and seated himself beside him in the boat into which the slaves and servants who were to go with Osman now also entered.
Mohammed had declined to go with them to the vessel. The soldiers must first be embarked, and the boulouk bashi will be the last to leave the shore, for this the military law requires.
The boats were soon filled with the soldiers, and the bay, covered with all kinds of skiffs, boats, and barks, now presented a very gay, lively spectacle. The entire population of Praousta and Cavalla were assembled on the shore to witness the embarkation.
Ada and her boys had also come down, and were gathered around the husband and father to take leave of him; beside them stood Mohammed's old friend, the merchant Lion. As the boats now began to put off from the shore, Mohammed took his wife's hand and led her aside, away from the others.
"Ada, my wife," said he, "I bid you a last farewell!"She sobbed beneath her veil, and tears poured in streams from her eyes.
"You weep on my account," said he; "that proves that I have at least not made my wife unhappy, and that she is not glad to be alone.""Ah, Mohammed," murmured she, "happy have you made me, and I owe you thanks for many glad years!""And I thank you for these words," said he, gently. "I will take them with me as an amulet to protect me without, in the world. Think of me, and watch over my children. Care for them, and do not let them become the drones or drudges of existence. Remember that their father is a soldier, and that he remains one to the end! Raise my children with reference to this! Have them instructed, Ada, for my sons must not come as ignorant soldiers to my army!""To your army?" exclaimed Ada, regarding him in astonishment--"your army?"He started; his inmost thoughts had for a moment escaped his lips.
"The army in which I serve!" said he, quickly. "Have my boys taught to read and write; this is necessary, believe me. And now, farewell, and receive my thanks for all the beautiful days and years which you have sought to bless me with!"He did not say, "which you have blessed me with." He did not wish to take leave of her with a falsehood on his lips, and his eye glanced over toward the place where Masa had sunk beneath the waves. There lay his happiness buried, and from that grave it had never risen.
Ada knew it not, he had never complained, and never seemed discontented; she had thought him happy. His love and thirst for revenge had hitherto slumbered, but now they were awakened to new life. He would have vengeance on him who had murdered her he loved, and heaped insult upon himself! He is now going out into the world, where he must meet Cousrouf Pacha, and on him will he wreak vengeance for all his wrongs and sufferings! Yes, his Masa, his white dove, shall be avenged!
With such thoughts, Mohammed enters the boat that rapidly conveys him to the ship where Osman stands on the deck awaiting him.
"Welcome, Mohammed! We are on the road to honor and renown!""Yes, my Osman, to honor and renown," responded Mohammed.
"And may Allah's blessing accompany you!" said the tschorbadji, holding his son in his arms in a farewell embrace. He then enters the boat that awaits him, and is rowed back to the shore.
Osman stands on the deck beside his friend; the soldiers stand around, silent and respectful in the presence of their bim bashi, and now the farewell gun is fired.
The governor, Ada, and the merchant, who stand in a group on the shore, wave their handkerchiefs: "Farewell, farewell!"Mohammed turns to Osman. "Be joyous, my friend! We have done with the past, and a brilliant future awaits us! Look, there rests my Masa, and, I tell you, a monument prouder and grander than was ever erected to woman, shall rise over her grave! The whole sea shall be her monument, and on the coast of Egypt will I erect one to my Masa, to my love, and my revenge!"
