He withdrew from the window, and hastened down to the court-yard, followed by the tschorbadji. He approached Masa, and, bending over her, said, softly: "Rise, daughter of thy father. Your sorrow and trouble have passed away. Be gay and happy once more. That which wicked men sought to do unto you has been frustrated. Your father is free.--Tschorbadji," said he, "command your servant Mohammed--command him to unlock the gate of this cage, and to release the prisoners he has guarded so closely.""No!" shouted Mohammed, in a voice of thunder. With my consent alone can it be opened!--Guard the gates, ye officers; I go in quest of the key; and not one shall be released until, kneeling at my feet, with their heads in the dust, the rebels pay to me the double tax.
What I have sworn--what I have sworn by my honor, that must be done.""We will not consent! We will never yield!" cried the men, rushing about in confusion.
"Then the prisoners' heads shall fall!" cried he, exultingly waving his sword in the air. "The hour until which I granted a respite has come; the gold has not been paid; the law cannot be broken with impunity. You pay, or the hour of vengeance is at hand!""We will not kneel; we will not humiliate ourselves before you, you boy!"With his sword still threateningly raised, Mohammed gazed around him.
The tschorbadji and his son now approached the men, and pleaded with them urgently. They explained to them that Mohammed was in the right; that he could not act differently. As he had sworn by his honor to force them to pay the double tax, he must therefore keep to his word.
"Do as he tells you," said the tschorbadji, in an entreating tone;"pay the tax he demands. Do it, ye men! I will reward you well, if you do as I say. He who goes to Mohammed to pay the money, he can ask at my hands a favor."The men's anger became subdued by the soft, kind words of their master. With bowed heads and gloomy aspect, they approached Mohammed Ali, who still stood with threatening sword before the cage.
"We kneel before you in the dust; we have returned to our duty,"said one of the men. "Here are the two sequins that I have to pay.""Here are mine," "And mine," cried they all, with one accord. They knelt and offered Mohammed the gold.
He did not take it; but, gazing steadfastly and bitterly at the pacha, he thrust them aside with a movement of impatience. "Lay your gold upon the block. What, through your obstinacy, has occurred, cannot be obliterated by your gold. Lay your gold upon the block, for to it you offer your gold."Laughing wildly, he turned and bowed before the veiled maiden. "But you pay for it with your honor, with your shame."She fell forward, and a shriek of agony burst from her lips. But she still gazed with tender eyes upon the youth who looked down upon her so fiercely.
"Traitoress! You have forgotten your oath!""No, Mohammed," whispered she. "Hear me!""Away from me! do you still wish to deceive me?" Again he thrust her from him. Masa would have fallen, had not Osman hurried forward and sustained her.
"Forgive him," whispered he, softly. "He is wild with anger and pain.""O Osman, is all known to you?" asked she, in trembling tones.
Osman bowed his head. Tears stood in his eyes. "Be quiet--we are watched. In the evening I will send you word.""Open now the gates, and let the prisoners out," said the tschorbadji to Mohammed. "The law has been vindicated.""It shall be as you command," said Mohammed, with the calmness sometimes born of despair. He drew forth the key, and placed it in the lock. Masa sprang forward. The gate opened, and now she stood beside her father. She threw her arms about him, and kissed his lips. Then she bowed her head upon his breast, and wept bitterly.
The old man held her close to his heart, and then, lifting her up, bore her, trembling with emotion, from out the cage, in which he had endured such torture for four-and-twenty hours.
The ulemas followed him. Joyfully the men greeted the released prisoners, and prayed that they might escort them home in triumph.
"I see no cause for triumph," said the sheik, calmly. "You have done what I cannot approve. It were better, I think, to have laid my gray head upon the block, rather than you should place upon it your hard-earned gold, becoming hereby the slaves of him who gave it to you, and has thus lowered you by his gift.''
"No, sheik," said Cousrouf Pacha, advancing proudly. "He who gave this gold gave it not with such intent. He gave it not to humiliate these men. I gave it for your sake, and for your daughter's sake,"continued he, in loud tones, and for an instant his eyes gleamed passionately on Masa.
He well knew his words would enter Mohammed's heart like a knife.
Turning slowly, be glanced at him, and smiled at seeing him turn pale.
"I am now about to leave you," said the pacha. "The grand-sultan calls me from here. Fear not, therefore, O sheik, that my countenance will longer humiliate you. I give you *******. Return to your friends; you are free!""Long live Cousrouf Pacha!" was the exultant cry of the men of Praousta.
No one heard, amid the many voices, the one crying "Cursed be Cousrouf Pacha! Cursed be my enemy unto death! I swear revenge upon him!""Cease, Mohammed; be guarded, be silent! Dissemble your anger, your pain, O friend of my heart! Believe me, all will soon be changed:
the sky that now seems so dark, will soon be clear with the light of the sun and of love!""No, never, Osman, never," murmured Mohammed, gazing bitterly at Masa, who, leaning upon her father's arm, and followed by the ulemas and the jubilant fishermen, was now leaving the court-yard.
