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The Pacha of Many Tales

by Frederick Marryat · English · Gutenberg #13673 · 795,113 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Pacha of Many Tales

Author: Frederick Marryat


        
Release date: October 7, 2004 [eBook #13673]
                Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PACHA OF MANY TALES ***

THE PACHA OF MANY TALES

by

CAPTAIN MARRYAT





List of Tales


Story of the Camel-Driver
Story of the Greek Slave
Story of the Monk
Story of the Monk (continued)
Huckaback
Manuscript of the Monk
Third Voyage of Huckaback
Fourth Voyage of Huckaback
Fifth Voyage of Huckaback
Sixth Voyage of Huckaback
The Last Voyage of Huckaback
The Scarred Lover
The Story of Hudusi
Tale of the English Sailor
The Water-Carrier
The Wondrous Tale of Han
Story of the Old Woman




Prefatory Note


The Pacha of Many Tales, as indeed its title suggests, is constructed in
direct imitation of the _Arabian Nights_. A Pacha of olden days,
enchanted by the stories of Schezehezerade, becomes emulous of the great
Haroun, and determines to procure his own stock of entertainment. By the
assistance of a wily barber-vizier he succeeds in the attempt, and
listens with greedy credulity to the marvellous histories herein set
forth.

On one occasion an English sailor is dragged into the august presence,
and demands, with all the dogged independence of his race, the reasons
for such treatment.

"You must tell lies, and you will have gold," replies the vizier.

"Tell lies," says Jack Tar, "that is, spin yarns. Well, I can do that."

The volume before us could not be more suggestively described. It is a
collection of admirable short stories of intrigue and adventure,
traveller's wonders narrated with a perfect air of good faith and no
regard for truth or probability. All the countries on the globe, and
many existing only in the imagination, are called into requisition to
produce a brilliant phantasmagoria of manners and customs. The stories
move rapidly and defy criticism by the very occasion of their being,
invented to amuse and astonish a jaded autocrat.

Hence we feel no shock in reading of an island where the commonest
utensils are made of gold, a nursery of whales, five months in the
interior of an iceberg, or a journey among the clouds during a
thunderstorm. The demand for brevity strengthens Marryat's style, and
saves him from padding. He is very happy in contriving expediences, and
evinces considerable wit in the conception, for instance, of Yussuf the
water-carrier. Some of the stories, again, are really dramatic, and the
"Second Voyage of Huckaback" (p. 126) reaches a height of weird horror
that recalls, without paling before the thought, certain passages in
_The Ancient Mariner_.

       *       *       *       *       *

_The Pacha of Many Tales_ was first published in _The Metropolitan
Magazine_, 1831-1835. During its appearance Marryat printed in the same
magazine (in 1833) a drama, _The Monk of Seville_, of which the plot is
almost exactly identical with _The Story of the Monk_ (p. 44). "Port
Royal Tom," the shark, and his Government pension, also appear in _Jacob
Faithful_, Chap. XXV.

_The Pacha of Many Tales_ is here printed, with a few corrections, from
the second edition in 3 vols. A.K. Newman & Co., 1844.

R.B.J






Chapter I


Every one acquainted with the manners and customs of the East must be
aware, that there is no situation of eminence more unstable, or more
dangerous to its possessor, than that of a pacha. Nothing, perhaps,
affords us more convincing proof of the risk which men will incur, to
obtain a temporary authority over their fellow-creatures, than the
avidity with which this office is accepted from the sultan; who, within
the memory of the new occupant, has consigned scores of his predecessors
to the bowstring. It would almost appear, as if the despot but elevated
a head from the crowd, that he might obtain a more fair and
uninterrupted sweep for his scimitar, when he cut it off; only exceeded
in his peculiar taste by the king of Dahomy, who is said to ornament the
steps of his palace with heads, fresh severed, each returning sun, as we
renew the decoration of our apartments from our gay parterres. I make
these observations, that I may not be accused of a disregard to
chronology, in not precisely stating the year, or rather the months,
during which flourished one of a race, who, like the flowers of the
Cistus, one morning in all their splendour, on the next, are strewed
lifeless on the ground to make room for their successors. Speaking of
such ephemeral creations, it will be quite sufficient to say, "There
_was_ a Pacha."

Would you inquire by what means he was raised to the distinction? It is
an idle question. In this world, preeminence over your fellow-creatures
can only be obtained, by leaving others far behind in the career of
virtue or of vice. In compliance with the dispositions of those who
rule, faithful service in the one path or the other will shower honour
upon the subject, and by the breath of kings he becomes ennobled to look
down upon his former equals.

And as the world spins round, the _why_ is of little moment. The honours
are bequeathed, but not the good, or the evil deeds, or the talents by
which they were obtained. In the latter, we have but a life interest,
for the entail is cut off by death. Aristocracy in all its varieties is
as necessary, for the well binding of society, as the divers grades
between the general and the common soldier are essential in the field.
Never then inquire, why this or that man has been raised above his
fellows; but, each night as you retire to bed, thank Heaven that you are
not _a King_.

And if I may digress, there is one badge of honour in our country, which
I never contemplate without serious reflection rising in my mind. It is
the _bloody_ hand in the dexter chief of a baronet,--now often worn, I
grant, by those who, perhaps, during their whole lives have never raised
their hands in anger. But my thoughts have returned to days of yore--the
iron days of _ironed men_, when it _was_ the symbol of faithful service
in the field--when it really was bestowed upon the "hand embrued in
blood;" and I have meditated, whether that hand, displayed with
exultation in this world, may not be held up trembling in the next--in
judgment against itself.

And I, whose memory stepping from one legal murder to another, can walk
dry-footed over the broad space of five-and-twenty years of time,--but
the "damned spots" won't come out--so I'll put my hands in my pockets
and walk on.

Conscience, fortunately or unfortunately, I hardly can tell which,
permits us to form political and religious creeds, most suited to
disguise or palliate our sins. Mine is a military conscience, and I
agree with Bates and Williams, who flourished in the time of Henry V.,
that it is "all upon the King:" that is to say, it was all upon the
king; and now our constitution has become so incomparably perfect, that
"the king can do no wrong;" and he has no difficulty in finding
ministers, who voluntarily impignorating themselves for all his actions
in this world, will, in all probability, not escape from the clutches of
the great _Pawnbroker_ in the next--from which facts I draw the
following conclusions:--

1st. That his Majesty (God bless him!) will go to heaven.

2ndly. That his Majesty's ministers will all go to the devil.

3rdly. That I shall go------on with my story.

As, however, a knowledge of the previous history of our pacha will be
necessary to the development of our story, the reader will in this
instance be indulged. He had been brought up to the profession of a
barber; but, possessing great personal courage, he headed a popular
commotion in favour of his predecessor, and was rewarded by a post of
some importance in the army. Successful in detached service, while his
general was unfortunate in the field, he was instructed to take off the
head of his commander, and head the troops in his stead; both of which
services he performed with equal skill and celerity. Success attended
him, and the pacha, his predecessor, having in his opinion, as well as
in that of the sultan, remained an unusual time in office, by an
accusation enforced by a thousand purses of gold, he was enabled to
produce a bowstring for his benefactor; and the sultan's "firman"
appointed him to the vacant pachalik. His qualifications for office were
all superlative: he was very short, very corpulent, very illiterate,
very irascible, and very stupid.

On the morning after his investment, he was under the hands of his
barber, a shrewd intelligent Greek, Mustapha by name. Barbers are
privileged persons for many reasons: running from one employer to
another to obtain their livelihood, they also obtain matter for
conversation, which, impertinent as it may sometimes be, serves to
beguile the tedium of an operation which precludes the use of any organ
except the ear. Moreover, we are inclined to be on good terms with a
man, who has it in his power to cut our throats whenever he pleases--to
wind up, the personal liberties arising from his profession, render all
others trifling; for the man who takes his sovereign by the nose, cannot
well after that be denied the liberty of speech.

Mustapha was a Greek by birth, and inherited all the intelligence and
adroitness of his race. He had been brought up to his profession when a
slave; but at the age of nineteen, he accompanied his master on board of
a merchant vessel bound to Scio; this vessel was taken by a pirate, and
Demetrius (for such was his real name) joined this band of miscreants,
and very faithfully served his apprenticeship to cutting throats, until
the vessel was captured by an English frigate. Being an active,
intelligent person, he was, at his own request, allowed to remain on
board as one of the ship's company, assisted in several actions, and
after three years went to England, where the ship was paid off. For some
time, Demetrius tried to make his fortune, but without success, and it
was not until he was reduced to nearly his last shilling, that he
commenced the trade of hawking rhubarb about in a box: which speculation
turned so profitable, that he was enabled in a short time to take his
passage in a vessel bound to Smyrna, his own country. This vessel was
captured by a French privateer; he was landed, and, not being considered
as a prisoner, allowed to act as he thought proper. In a short time he
obtained the situation of valet and barber to a "millionaire," whom he
contrived to rob of a few hundred Napoleons, and with them to make his
escape to his own country. Demetrius had now some knowledge of the
world, and he felt it necessary that he should become a True Believer,
as there would be more chance of his advancement in a Turkish country.
He dismissed the patriarch to the devil, and took up the turban and
Mahomet; then quitting the scene of his apostasy, recommenced his
profession of barber in the territory of the pacha; whose good-will he
had obtained previous to the latter's advancement to the pachalik.

"Mustapha," observed the pacha, "thou knowest that I have taken off the
heads of all those who left their slippers at the door of the late
pacha."

"Allah Kebur! God is most powerful! So perish the enemies of your
sublime highness. Were they not the sons of Shitan?" replied Mustapha.

"Very true; but, Mustapha, the consequence is that I am in want of a
vizier; and whom do I know equal to that office?"

"While your sublime highness is pacha, is not a child equal to the
office? Who stumbles, when guided by unerring wisdom?"

"I know that very well," replied the pacha; "but if I am always to
direct him, I might as well be vizier myself; besides, I shall have no
one to blame, if affairs go wrong with the Sultan. Inshallah! please the
Lord, the vizier's head may sometimes save my own."

"Are we not as dogs before you?" replied Mustapha: "happy the man, who,
by offering his own head may preserve that of your sublime highness! It
ought to be the proudest day of his life."

"At all events it would be the last," rejoined the pacha.

"May it please your sublime highness," observed Mustapha, after a pause,
"if your slave may be so honoured as to speak in your presence, a vizier
should be a person of great tact; he should be able to draw the line as
nicely as I do when I shave your sublime head, leaving not a vestige of
the hair, yet entering not upon the skin."

"Very true, Mustapha."

"He should have a sharp eye for the disaffected to the government,
selecting them and removing them from among the crowd, as I do the few
white hairs which presume to make their appearance in your sublime and
magnificent beard."

"Very true, Mustapha."

"He should carefully remove all impurities from the state, as I have
this morning from your sublime ears."

"Very true, Mustapha."

"He should be well acquainted with the secret springs of action, as I
have proved myself to be in the shampooing which your sublime highness
has just received."

"Very true, Mustapha."

"Moreover, he should be ever grateful to your highness for the
distinguished honour conferred upon him."

"All that you say is very true, Mustapha, but where am I to meet with
such a man?"

"This world is convenient in some points," continued Mustapha; "if you
want either a fool or a knave, you have not far to go to find them; but
it is no easy task to select the person you require. I know but one."

"And who is he?"

"One whose head is but as your footstool," answered the barber,
prostrating himself,--"your sublime highness's most devoted slave,
Mustapha."

"Holy Prophet! Then you mean yourself!--Well, now I think of it, if one
barber can become a pacha, I do not see why another would not make a
vizier. But then what am I to do for a barber? No, no, Mustapha; a good
vizier is easy to be found, but a good barber, you know as well as I do,
requires some talent."

"Your slave is aware of that," replied Mustapha, "but he has travelled
in other countries, where it is no uncommon circumstance for men to hold
more than one office under government; sometimes much more incompatible
than those of barber and vizier, which are indeed closely connected. The
affairs of most nations are settled by the potentates during their
toilet. While I am shaving the head of your sublime highness, I can
receive your commands to take off the heads of others; and you can have
your person and your state both put in order at the same moment."

"Very true, Mustapha; then, on condition that you continue your office
of barber, I have no objection to throw that of vizier into the
bargain."

Mustapha again prostrated himself, with his tweezers in his hand. He
then rose, and continued his office.

"You can write, Mustapha," observed the pacha, after a short silence.

"Min Allah! God forbid that I should acknowledge it, or I should
consider myself as unfit to assume the office in which your sublime
highness has invested me."

"Although unnecessary for me, I thought it might be requisite for a
vizier," observed the pacha.

"Reading may be necessary, I will allow," replied Mustapha; "but I trust
I can soon prove to your highness that writing is as dangerous as it is
useless. More men have been ruined by that unfortunate acquirement, than
by any other; and dangerous as it is to all, it is still more dangerous
to men in high power. For instance, your sublime highness sends a
message in writing, which is ill-received, and it is produced against
you; but had it been a verbal message, you could deny it, and bastinado
to death the Tartar who carried it, as a proof of your sincerity.

"Very true, Mustapha."

"The grandfather of your slave," continued the barber-vizier, "held the
situation of receiver-general at the custom-house; and he was always in
a fury when he was obliged to take up the pen. It was his creed, that no
government could prosper when writing was in general use. 'Observe,
Mustapha,' said he to me one day, 'here is the curse of writing,--for
all the money which is paid in, I am obliged to give a receipt. What is
the consequence? that government loses many thousand sequins every year;
for when I apply to them for a second payment, they produce their
receipt. Now if it had not been for this cursed invention of writing,
Inshallah! they should have paid twice, if not thrice over. Remember,
Mustapha,' continued he, 'that reading and writing only clog the wheels
of government.'"

"Very true, Mustapha," observed the pacha, "then we will have no
writing."

"Yes, your sublime highness, every thing in writing from others, but
nothing in writing from ourselves. I have a young Greek slave, who can
be employed in these matters. He reads well. I have lately employed him
in reading to me the stories of 'Thousand and one Nights.'"

"Stories," cried the pacha; "what are they about? I never heard of them;
I'm very fond of stories."

"If it would pleasure your sublime highness to hear these stories read,
the slave will wait your commands," replied the vizier.

"Bring him this evening, Mustapha; we will smoke a pipe, and listen to
them; I'm very fond of stories--they always send me to sleep."

The business of the day was transacted with admirable precision and
despatch by the two quondam barbers, who proved how easy it is to
govern, where there are not "three estates" to confuse people. They sat
in the divan as highwaymen loiter on the road, and it was "Your money or
your life" to all who made their appearance.

At the usual hour the court broke up, the guards retired, the money was
carried to the treasury, the executioner wiped his sword, and the lives
of the pacha's subjects were considered to be in a state of comparative
security, until the affairs of the country were again brought under
their cognizance on the ensuing day.

In obedience to the wish expressed by the pacha, Mustapha made his
appearance in the afternoon with the young Greek slave. The new vizier
having taken a seat upon a cushion at the feet of the pacha, the pipes
were lighted, and the slave was directed to proceed.

The Greek had arrived to the end of the First Night, in which
Schezehezerade commences her story, and the Sultan, who was anxious to
hear the termination of it, defers her execution to the following day.

"Stop," cried the pacha, taking the pipe from his lips; "how long
before the break of day did that girl call her sister?"

"About half an hour, your sublime highness."

"Wallah! is that all she could tell of her story in half an
hour?--There's not a woman in my harem who would not say as much in five
minutes."

The pacha was so amused with the stories, that he never once felt
inclined to sleep; on the contrary, the Greek slave was compelled to
read every afternoon, until his legs were so tired that he could hardly
stand, and his tongue almost refused its office; consequently, they were
soon finished; and Mustapha not being able to procure any more, they
were read a second time. After which the pacha, who felt the loss of his
evening's amusement, became first puzzled how to pass away his time;
then he changed to hypochondriacism, and finally became so irritable,
that even Mustapha himself, at times, approached him with some degree of
awe.

"I have been thinking," observed the pacha, one morning, when under the
hands of Mustapha, in his original capacity, "that it would be as easy
for me to have stories told me, as the caliph in the Arabian Nights."

"I wonder not that your highness should desire it. Those stories are as
the opium to Theriarkis, filling the soul with visions of delight at the
moment, but leaving it palsied from over-excitement, when their effect
has passed away. How does your sublime highness propose to obtain your
end; and in what manner can your slave assist to produce your wishes?"

"I shall manage it without assistance; come this evening and you shall
see, Mustapha."

Mustapha made his appearance in the afternoon, and the pacha smoked his
pipe for some time, and appeared as if communing with himself; he then
laid it down, and clapping his hands, desired one of the slaves to
inform his favourite lady, Zeinab, that he desired her presence.

Zeinab entered with her veil down. "Your slave attends the pleasure of
her lord."

"Zeinab," said the pacha, "do you love me?"

"Do not I worship the dust that my lord treads on?"

"Very true--then I have a favour to request--observe, Zeinab--it is my
wish that"--(here the pacha took a few whiffs from his pipe--) "The fact
is--I wish you to dishonour my harem as soon as possible."

"Wallah sel Nebi!!--by Allah and the Prophet! your highness is in a
merry humour this evening," replied Zeinab, turning round to quit the
apartment.

"On the contrary, I am in a serious humour; I mean what I have said; and
I expect that you will comply with my wishes."

"Is my lord mad? or has he indulged too freely in the juice of the grape
forbidden by our prophet? Allah Kebur! God is most powerful--The Hakim
must be sent for."

"Will you do as I order you?" said the pacha, angrily.

"Does my lord send for his slave to insult her! My blood is as water, at
the dreadful thought!--Dishonour the harem!--Min Allah! God
forbid!--Would not the eunuch be ready and the sack?"

"Yes, they would, I acknowledge; but still it must be done."

"It shall not be done," replied the lady:--"Has my lord been visited by
heaven? or is he possessed by the Shitan?"--And the lady burst into
tears of rage and vexation as she quitted the apartment.

"There's obstinacy for you--women are nothing but opposition. If you
wish them to be faithful, they try day and night to deceive you; give
them their desires and tell them to be false, they will refuse. All was
arranged so well, I should have cut off all their heads, and had a fresh
wife every night until I found one who could tell stories; then I should
have rose up and deferred her execution to the following day."

Mustapha, who had been laughing in his sleeve at the strange idea of
the pacha, was nevertheless not a little alarmed. He perceived that the
mania had such complete possession, that, unless appeased, the results
might prove unpleasant even to himself. It occurred to him, that a
course might be pursued to gratify the pacha's wishes, without
proceeding to such violent measures. Waiting a little while until the
colour, which had suffused the pacha's face from anger and
disappointment, had subsided, he addressed him:

"The plan of your sublime highness was such as was to be expected from
the immensity of your wisdom; but hath not the prophet warned us, that
the wisest of men are too often thwarted by the folly and obstinacy of
the other sex. May your slave venture to observe, that many very fine
stories were obtained by the caliph Haroun, and his vizier Mesrour, as
they walked through the city in disguise. In all probability a similar
result might be produced, if your highness were to take the same step,
accompanied by the lowest of your slaves, Mustapha."

"Very true," replied the pacha, delighted at the prospect, "prepare two
disguises, and we will set off in less than an hour--Inshallah, please
the Lord, we have at last hit upon the right path."

Mustapha, who was glad to direct the ideas of the pacha into a more
harmless channel, procured the dresses of two merchants, (for such, he
observed, were the usual habiliments put on by the caliph and his vizier
in the Arabian Nights), and he was aware that his master's vanity would
be gratified at the idea of imitating so celebrated a personage.

It was dusk when they set off upon their adventures. Mustapha directed
some slaves well armed to follow at a distance, in case their assistance
might be required. The strict orders which had been issued on the
accession of the new pacha (to prevent any riot or popular commotion),
which were enforced by constant rounds of the soldiers on guard,
occasioned the streets to be quite deserted.

For some time the pacha and Mustapha walked up one street and down
another, without meeting with anything or any body that could administer
to their wishes. The former, who had not lately been accustomed to
pedestrian exercise, began to puff and show symptoms of weariness and
disappointment, when at the corner of a street they fell in with two
men, who were seated in conversation; and as they approached softly, one
of them said to the other, "I tell you, Coja, that happy is the man who
can always command a hard crust like this, which is now wearing away my
teeth."

"I must know the reason of that remark," said the pacha; "Mesrour
(Mustapha, I mean), you will bring that man to me to-morrow, after the
divan is closed."

Mustapha bowed in acquiescence, and directing the slaves who were in
attendance to take the man into custody, followed the pacha, who,
fatigued with his unusual excursion, and satisfied with the prospect of
success, now directed his steps to the palace and retired to bed.
Zeinab, who had lain awake until her eyes could remain open no longer,
with the intention of reading him a lecture upon decency and sobriety,
had at last fallen asleep, and the tired pacha was therefore permitted
to do the same.

When Mustapha arrived at his own abode, he desired that the person who
had been detained should be brought to him.

"My good man," said the vizier, "you made an observation this evening
which was overheard by his highness the pacha, who wishes to be
acquainted with your reasons for stating 'that happy was the man who
could at all times command a hard crust, like that which was wearing
away your teeth.'"

The man fell down on his knees in trepidation. "I do declare to your
highness, by the camel of the Holy Prophet," said he, in a faltering
voice, "that I neither meant treason, nor disaffection to the
government."

"Slave! I am not quite sure of that," replied Mustapha, with a stern
look, in hopes of frightening the man into a compliance with his
wishes--"there was something very enigmatical in those words. Your
'_hard crust_' may mean his sublime highness the pacha; 'wearing away
your teeth' may imply exactions from the government; and as you affirmed
that he was happy who could _command_ the hard crust--why it is as much
as to say that you would be very glad to create a rebellion."

"Holy Prophet! May the soul of your slave never enter the first heaven,"
replied the man, "if he meant anything more than what he said; and if
your highness had been as often without a mouthful of bread as your
slave has been, you would agree with him in the justice of the remark."

"It is of little consequence whether I agree with you or not," replied
the vizier; "I have only to tell you that his sublime highness the pacha
will not be satisfied, unless you explain away the remark, by relating
to him some story connected with the observation."

"Min Allah! God forbid that your slave should tell a story to deceive
his highness."

"The Lord have mercy upon you if you do not," replied the vizier; "but,
to be brief, if you can invent a good and interesting story, you will
remove the suspicions of the pacha, and probably be rewarded with a few
pieces of gold; if you cannot, you must prepare for the bastinado, if
not for death. You will not be required to appear in the sublime
presence before to-morrow afternoon, and will therefore have plenty of
time to invent one."

"Will your highness permit your slave to go home and consult his wife?
Women have a great talent for storytelling. With her assistance he may
be able to comply with your injunctions."

"No," replied Mustapha, "you must remain in custody; but, as on this
occasion she may be of the greatest assistance to you, you may send for
her. They have indeed a talent! As the young crocodile, from instinct,
runs into the Nile as soon as it bursts its shell, so does woman, from
her nature, plunge into deceit, before even her tongue can give
utterance to the lies which her fertile imagination has already
conceived."

And with this handsome compliment to the sex, Mustapha gave his final
orders and retired.

Whether the unfortunate man, thus accused of treason, derived any
benefit from being permitted to "retain counsel," will be shown by the
following story, which he told to the pacha when summoned on the ensuing
day.



STORY OF THE CAMEL-DRIVER.

That your highness should wish for an explanation of the very doubtful
language which you overheard last night, I am not surprised; but I trust
you will acknowledge, when I have finished my narrative, that I was
fully justified in the expressions which I made use of. I am by birth
(as my dress denotes) a Fellah of this country, but I was not always so
poor as I am now. My father was the possessor of many camels, which he
let out for hire to the merchants of the different caravans which
annually leave this city. When he died, I came into possession of his
property, and the good-will of those whom he had most faithfully served.
The consequence was, that I had full employ, my camels were always
engaged, and, as I invariably accompanied them that they might not be
ill-treated, I have several times been to Mecca, as this ragged green
turban will testify. My life was one of alternate difficulty and
enjoyment. I returned to my wife and children with delight after my
journeys of suffering and privation, and fully appreciated the value of
my home from the short time that my occupation would permit me to remain
there. I worked hard and became rich.

It was during a painful march through the Desert with one of the
caravans, that a favourite she-camel foaled. At first it was my
intention to leave the young one to its fate, as my camels had already
suffered much; but, on examination, the creature showed such strength
and symmetry that I resolved to bring it up. I therefore divided half of
one of the loads between the other camels, and tied the foal upon the
one which I had partly relieved for the purpose. We arrived safely at
Cairo; and, as the little animal grew up, I had more than ever reason to
be satisfied that I had saved its life. All good judges considered it a
prodigy of beauty and strength, and prophesied that it would some day be
selected as the holy camel, to carry the Koran in the pilgrimage to
Mecca. And so it did happen about five years afterwards, during which
interval I accompanied the caravans as before, and each year added to my
wealth.

My camel had by this time arrived to his full perfection; he stood
nearly three feet higher than any other; and, when the caravan was
preparing, I led him to the sheiks, and offered him as a candidate for
the honour. They would have accepted him immediately, had it not been
for a Maribout, who, for some reason or another, desired them not to
employ him, asserting that the caravan would be unlucky if my camel was
the bearer of the holy Koran.

As this man was considered to be a prophet, the sheiks were afraid, and
would not give a decided answer. Irritated at the Maribout's
interference, I reviled him; he raised a hue and cry against me; and,
being joined by the populace, I was nearly killed. As I hastened away,
the wretch threw some sand after me, crying out, "Thus shall the caravan
perish from the judgment of heaven, if that cursed camel is permitted to
carry the holy word of the prophet." The consequence was, that an
inferior camel was selected, and I was disappointed. But on the ensuing
year the Maribout was not at Cairo; and, as there was no animal equal to
mine in beauty, it was chosen by the sheiks without a dissentient voice.

I hastened home to my wife, overjoyed with my good fortune, which I
hoped would bring a blessing upon my house. She was equally delighted,
and my beautiful camel seemed also to be aware of the honour to which he
was destined, as he repaid our caresses, curving and twisting his long
neck, and laying his head upon our shoulders.

The caravan assembled: it was one of the largest which for many years
had quitted Cairo, amounting in all to eighteen thousand camels. You may
imagine my pride when, as the procession passed through the streets, I
pointed out to my wife the splendid animal, with his bridle studded with
jewels and gold, led by the holy sheiks in their green robes, carrying
on his back the chest which contained the law of our prophet, looking
proudly on each side of him as he walked along, accompanied by bands of
music, and the loud chorus of the singing men and women.

As on the ensuing day the caravan was to form outside of the town, I
returned home to my family, that I might have the last of their company,
having left my other camels, who were hired by the pilgrims, in charge
of an assistant who accompanied me in my journeys. The next morning I
bade adieu to my wife and children; and was quitting the house, when my
youngest child, who was about two years old, called to me, and begged me
to return one moment, and give her a farewell caress. As I lifted her in
my arms, she, as usual, put her hand into the pocket of my loose jacket
to search, as I thought, for the fruit that I usually brought home for
her when I returned from the bazaar; but there was none there: and
having replaced her in the arms of her mother, I hastened away that I
might not be too late at my post. Your highness is aware that we do not
march one following another, as most caravans do, but in one straight
line abreast. The necessary arrangement occupies the whole day previous
to the commencement of our journey, which takes place immediately after
the sun goes down. We set off that evening, and after a march of two
nights, arrived at Adjeroid, where we remained three days, to procure
our supplies of water from Suez, and to refresh the animals, previous to
our forced march over the desert of El Tyh.

The last day of our repose, as I was smoking my pipe, with my camels
kneeling down around me, I perceived a herie[1] coming from the
direction of Cairo, at a very swift pace; it passed by me like a flash
of lightning, but still I had sufficient time to recognise in its rider
the Maribout who had prophesied evil if my camel was employed to carry
the Koran on the pilgrimage of the year before.

  [1] A swift dromedary.

The Maribout stopped his dromedary at the tent of the Emir Hadjy, who
commanded the caravan. Anxious to know the reason of his following us,
which I had a foreboding was connected with my camel, I hastened to the
spot. I found him haranguing the Emir and the people who had surrounded
him, denouncing woe and death to the whole caravan if my camel was not
immediately destroyed, and another selected in his stead. Having for
some time declaimed in such an energetic manner as to spread
consternation throughout the camp, he turned his dromedary again to the
west, and in a few minutes was out of sight.

The Emir was confused; murmurings and consultations were arising among
the crowd. I was afraid that they would listen to the suggestions of the
Maribout; and, alarmed for my camel, and the loss of the honour
conferred upon him, I was guilty of a lie.

"O! Emir," said I, "listen not to that man who is mine enemy: he came to
my house, he ate of my bread, and would have been guilty of the basest
ingratitude by seducing the mother of my children; I drove him from my
door, and thus would he revenge himself. So may it fare with me, and
with the caravan, as I speak the truth."

I was believed; the injunctions of the Maribout were disregarded, and
that night we proceeded on our march through the plains of El Tyh.

As your highness has never yet made a pilgrimage, you can have no
conception of the country which we had to pass through: it was one vast
region of sand, where the tracks of those who pass over it are
obliterated by the wind,--a vast sea without water,--an expanse of
desolation. We plunged into the desert; and as the enormous collection
of animals, extending as far as the eye could reach, held their
noiseless way, it seemed as if it were the passing by of shadows.

We met with no accident, notwithstanding the prophecies of the Maribout;
and, after a fatiguing march of seven nights, arrived safely at Nakhel,
where we replenished our exhausted water-skins. Those whom I knew joked
with me, when we met at the wells, at the false prophecies of my enemy.
We had now three days of severe fatigue to encounter before we arrived
at the castle of Akaba, and we recommenced our painful journey.

It was on the morning of the second day, about an hour after we had
pitched out tents, that the fatal prophecy of the Maribout, and the
judgment of Allah upon me, for the lie which I had called on him to
witness, was fulfilled.

A dark cloud appeared upon the horizon; it gradually increased, changing
to a bright yellow; then rose and rose until it had covered one-half of
the firmament, when it suddenly burst upon us in a hurricane which
carried every thing before it, cutting off mountains of sand at the
base, and hurling them upon our devoted heads. The splendid tent of the
Emir which first submitted to the blast, passed close to me, flying
along with the velocity of the herie, while every other was either
levelled to the ground or carried up into the air, and whirled about in
mad gyration.

Moving pillars of sand passed over us, overthrowing and suffocating man
and beast; the camels thrust their muzzles into the ground, and,
profiting by their instinct, we did the same, awaiting our fate in
silence and trepidation. But the simoom had not yet poured upon us all
its horrors: in a few minutes nothing was to be distinguished, all was
darkness, horrible darkness, rendered more horrible by the ravings of
dying men, the screams of women, and the mad career of horses and other
animals, which breaking their cords, trod down thousands in their
endeavours to escape from the overwhelming fury of the desert storm.

I had laid myself down by one of my camels, and thrusting my head under
his side, awaited my death with all the horror of one who felt that the
wrath of heaven was justly poured upon him. For an hour I remained in
that position, and surely there can be no pains in hell greater than
those which I suffered during that space of time. The burning sand
forced itself into my garments, the pores of my skin were closed, I
hardly ventured to breathe the hot blast which was offered as the only
means of protracted existence. At last I fetched my respiration with
greater freedom, and no more heard the howling of the blast. Gradually I
lifted up my head, but my eyes had lost their power, I could distinguish
nothing but a yellow glare. I imagined that I was blind, and what chance
could there be for a man who was blind in the desert of El Tyh? Again I
laid my head down, thought of my wife and children, and abandoning
myself to despair, I wept bitterly.

The tears that I shed had a resuscitating effect upon my frame. I felt
revived, and again lifted up my head--I could see! I prostrated myself
in humble thanksgiving to Allah, and then rose upon my feet. Yes, I
could see; but what a sight was presented to my eyes! I could have
closed them for ever with thankfulness. The sky was again serene, and
the boundless prospect uninterrupted as before; but the thousands who
accompanied me, the splendid gathering of men and beasts, where were
they? Where was the Emir Hadjy and his guards? where the mamelukes, the
agas, the janissaries, and the holy sheiks? the sacred camel, the
singers, and musicians? the varieties of nations and tribes who had
joined the caravan? All perished!! Mountains of sand marked the spots
where they had been entombed, with no other monuments save here and
there part of the body of a man or beast not yet covered by the desert
wave. All, all were gone, save one; and that one, that guilty one, was
myself, who had been permitted to exist, that he might behold the awful
mischief which had been created by his presumption and his crime.

For some minutes I contemplated the scene, careless and despairing; for
I imagined that I had only been permitted to outlive the whole, that my
death might be even more terrible. But my wife and children rushed to my
memory, and I resolved for their sakes to save, if possible, a life
which had no other ties to bind it to this earth. I tore off a piece of
my turban, and cleansing the sand out of my bleeding nostrils, walked
over the field of death.

Between the different hillocks I found several camels, which had not
been covered. Perceiving a water-skin, I rushed to it, that I might
quench my raging thirst; but the contents had been dried up--not a drop
remained. I found another, but I had no better success. I then
determined to open one of the bodies of the camels, and obtain the water
which it might still have remaining in its stomach. This I effected, and
having quenched my thirst--to which even the heated element which I
poured down, seemed delicious--I hastened to open the remainder of the
animals before putrefaction should take place, and collect the scanty
supplies in the water-skins. I procured more than half a skin of water,
and then returned to my own camel, which I had lain down beside of,
during the simoom. I sat on the body of the animal, and reflected upon
the best method of proceeding. I knew that I was but one day's journey
from the springs; but how little chance had I of reaching them! I also
knew the direction which I must take. The day had nearly closed, and I
resolved to make the attempt.

As the sun disappeared, I rose, and with the skin of water on my back
proceeded on my hopeless journey. I walked the whole of that night, and,
by break of day, I imagined that I must have made about half the
progress of a caravan; I had, therefore, still a day to pass in the
desert, without any protection from the consuming heat, and then another
night of toil. Although I had sufficient water, I had no food. When the
sun rose, I sat down upon a hillock of burning sand, to be exposed to
his rays for twelve everlasting hours. Before the hour of noon arrived,
my brain became heated--I nearly lost my reason. My vision was
imperfect, or rather I saw what did not exist. At one time lakes of
water presented themselves to my eager eyes; and so certain was I of
their existence, that I rose and staggered till I was exhausted in
pursuit of them. At another, I beheld trees at a distance, and could see
the acacias waving in the breeze; I hastened to throw myself under their
shade, and arrived at some small shrub, which had thus been magnified.

So was I tormented and deceived during the whole of that dreadful day,
which still haunts me in my dreams. At last the night closed in, and the
stars as they lighted up, warned me that I might continue my journey. I
drank plentifully from my water-skin, and recommenced my solitary way. I
followed the track marked out by the bones of camels and horses of
former caravans which had perished in the desert, and when the day
dawned, I perceived the castle of Akaba at a short distance. Inspired
with new life, I threw away the water-skin, redoubled my speed, and in
half an hour had thrown myself down by the side of the fountain from
which I had previously imbibed large draughts of the refreshing fluid.
What happiness was then mine! How heavenly, to lay under the shade,
breathing the cool air, listening to the warbling of the birds, and
inhaling the perfume of the flowers, which luxuriated on that delightful
spot! After an hour I stripped, bathed myself, and, taking another
draught of water, fell into a sound sleep.

I awoke refreshed, but suffering under the cravings of hunger, which now
assailed me. I had been three days without food; but hitherto I had not
felt the want of it, as my more importunate thirst had overcome the
sensation. Now that the greater evil had been removed, the lesser
increased and became hourly more imperious. I walked out and scanned the
horizon with the hopes of some caravan appearing in sight, but I watched
in vain; and returned to the fountain. Two more days passed away, and no
relief was at hand: my strength failed me; I felt that I was dying; and,
as the fountain murmured, and the birds sang, and the cool breeze
fanned my cheeks, I thought that it would have been better to have been
swallowed up in the desert than to be tantalised by expiring in such a
paradise. I laid myself down to die, for I could sit up no more; and as
I turned round to take a last view of the running water, which had
prolonged my existence, something hard pressed against my side. I
thought it was a stone, and stretched out my hand to remove it, that I
might be at ease in my last moments; but when I felt, there was no stone
there; it was something in the pocket of my jacket. I put my hand in,
unconscious what it could be; I pulled it out, and looking at it before
I threw it away, found that it was a piece of _hard dry bread_. I
thought that it had been sent to me from heaven, and it was as pure an
offering as if it had come from thence, for it was the gift of innocence
and affection--it was the piece of bread which my little darling girl
had received for her breakfast, and which on my departure she had thrust
into my pocket, when I imagined she had been searching for fruit. I
crawled to the spring, moistened it, and devoured it, with tears of
gratitude to heaven, mingled with the fond yearnings of a father's
heart.

It saved my life; for the next day a small caravan arrived, which was
bound to Cairo. The merchants treated me with great kindness, tied me on
one of the camels, and I once more embraced my family, whom I had never
thought to see again. Since that I have been poor, but contented--I
deserved to lose all my property for my wickedness, and I submit with
resignation to the will of Allah.

And now I trust that your highness will acknowledge that I was justified
in making use of the expression, that "Happy was the man who could _at
all times_ command a _crust of bread_!"

       *       *       *       *       *

"Very true," observed the pacha; "that's not a bad story: Mustapha, give
him five pieces of gold, and allow him to depart."

The camel-driver quitted the divan, prostrating himself before the
pacha, and overjoyed at the fortunate termination of what had threatened
so much danger. The pacha was silent for a little while, during which he
puffed his pipe--when he observed:--

"Allah Kebur, God is most powerful! That man has suffered much--and what
has he to show for it?--a green turban--He is a Hadjy; I never thought
that we should have heard so good a story about a 'crust of bread.' His
description of the simoom parched up my entrails. What think you,
Mustapha, cannot a true believer go to heaven, without a visit to the
tomb of the prophet?"

"The holy Koran does not say otherwise, your highness, it inculcates
that all who can, should do so, as the path will be rendered easier. Min
Allah! God forbid! Has your highness ever had the time to go to Mecca,
and is not your highness to go to heaven?"

"Very true, Mustapha, I never had time. In my youth I was busy shaving
heads, after that, Wallah! I had enough to do, splitting them; and now
am not I fully occupied in taking them off? Is it not so, Mustapha; are
not these the words of truth?"

"Your highness is all wisdom. There is but one God, and Mahomet is his
prophet; and when the latter said, that a visit to the holy shrine would
be a passport to heaven, it was intended to employ those who were idle,
not to embarrass true believers who work hard in the name of the Most
High!"

"Min Allah! God forbid! the case is clear," replied the pacha, "why, if
every body were to go to Mecca, what then, Mustapha?"

"Your highness--it is the opinion of your slave, if such were to take
place, that all the fools would have left the country."

"Very true, Mustapha; but my mouth is parched up with the sand of that
simoom--Sherbet I cannot drink, Rakee I must not, the Hakim has forbid
it; what must it be then, Mustapha?"

"Hath the holy prophet forbidden wine to true believers in case of
sickness; is not your highness sick; was the wine of Shiraz given by
Allah to be thrown away? Allah Karim! God is most merciful; and the wine
was sent that true believers might, in this world, have a foretaste of
the pleasures awaiting them in the next."

"Mustapha," replied the pacha, taking his pipe out of his mouth, "by the
beard of the holy prophet, your words are those of wisdom. Is a pacha to
be fed on water-melons? Staffir Allah! do we believe the less, because
we drink the wine? Slave, bring the pitcher. There is but one God, and
Mahomet is his prophet."

"The words of the prophet, your highness, are plain: he says, 'True
believers drink no wine,' which means, that his followers are not to go
about the streets, drunken like the Giaours of Franguistan, who come
here in their ships. Why is wine forbidden? because it makes men drunk.
If then we are not drunk, we keep within the law. Why was the law made?
Laws cannot be made for all; they must therefore be made for the control
of the majority--Is it not so? Who are the majority? Why the poor. If
laws were made for the rich and powerful, such laws would not suit the
community at large. Mashallah! there are no laws for pachas, who have
only to believe that there is one God and Mahomet is his prophet. Does
your slave say well?"

"Excellently well, Mustapha," replied the pacha, lifting the pitcher to
his mouth for a minute, and then passing it to Mustapha.

"Allah Karim! God is most merciful! your slave must drink; is it not the
pleasure of your highness? As the wine poured down the throat of your
highness, pervades through your whole frame to the extremities, so does
your slave participate in your bounty. Do I not sit in your sublime
presence? Can the sun shine without throwing out heat; therefore if your
highness drink, must not I drink? Allah Acbar! who shall presume not to
follow the steps of the pacha?" So saying, Mustapha lifted up the
pitcher, and, for a minute, it was glued to his lips.

"I think that story should be written down," observed the pacha, after
a pause of a few moments.

"I have already given directions, your highness, and the Greek slave is
now employed about it, improving the language to render it more pleasing
to the ears of your sublime highness, should it be your pleasure to have
it read to you on some future day."

"That is right, Mustapha, if I recollect well, the Caliph Haroun used to
command them to be written in letters of gold, and be deposited in the
archives: we must do the same."

"The art no longer exists, your highness."

"Then we must be content with Indian-ink," replied the pacha, lifting
the pitcher to his mouth, and emptying it.

"The sun will soon be down, Mustapha, and we must set off."




Chapter II


The pacha called for coffee, and in a few minutes, accompanied, as
before, by Mustapha and the armed slaves, was prowling through the city
in search of a story-teller. He was again fortunate, as after a walk of
half an hour, he overheard two men loudly disputing at the door of a
small wine-shop, frequented by the Greeks and Franks living in the city,
and into which many a slave might be observed to glide, returning with a
full pitcher for the evening's amusement of his Turkish master, who, as
well as his betters, clandestinely violated the precepts of the Koran.

As usual he stopped to listen, when one of the disputants exclaimed--"I
tell thee, Anselmo, it is the vilest composition that was ever drunk:
and I think I ought to know, after having distilled the essence of an
Ethiopian, a Jew, and a Turk."

"I care nothing for your distillations, Charis," replied the other, "I
consider that I am a better judge than you: I was not a monk of the
Dominican order for fifteen years, without having ascertained the merit
of every description of wine."

"I should like to know what that fellow means by _distilling people_,"
observed the pacha, "and also why a Dominican monk should know wine
better than others. Mustapha, I must see those two men."

The next morning the men were in attendance, and introduced; when the
pacha requested an explanation from the first who had spoken. The man
threw himself down before the pacha, with his head on the floor of the
divan, and said,--"First promise me, your highness, by the sword of the
prophet, that no harm shall result to me from complying with your
request; and then I shall obey you with pleasure."

"Mashallah! what is the Kafir afraid of? What crimes hath he committed,
that he would have his pardon granted before he tells his story?" said
the pacha to Mustapha.

"No crime towards your state, your sublime highness; but when in another
country, I was unfortunate," continued the man--"I cannot tell my story,
unless your highness will condescend to give your promise."

"May it please your highness," observed Mustapha, "he asserts his crime
to have been committed in another state. It may be heavy, and I suspect
'tis murder;--but although we watch the flowers which ornament our
gardens, and would punish those who cull them, yet we care not who
intrudes and robs our neighbour--and thus, it appears to me, your
highness, that it is with states, and sufficient for the ruler of each
to watch over the lives of his own subjects."

"Very true, Mustapha," rejoined the pacha; "besides, we might lose the
story. Kafir, you have our promise, and may proceed."

The Greek slave (for such he was) then rose up, and narrated his story
in the following words.



STORY OF THE GREEK SLAVE.

I am a Greek by birth; my parents were poor people residing at Smyrna. I
was an only son, and brought up to my father's profession,--that of a
cooper. When I was twenty years old, I had buried both my parents, and
was left to shift for myself. I had been for some time in the employ of
a Jewish wine-merchant, and I continued there for three years after my
father's death, when a circumstance occurred which led to my subsequent
prosperity and present degradation.

At the time that I am speaking of, I had, by strict diligence and
sobriety, so pleased my employer, that I had risen to be his foreman;
and although I still superintended and occasionally worked at the
cooperage, I was intrusted with the drawing off and fining of the wines,
to prepare them for market. There was an Ethiopian slave, who worked
under my orders, a powerful, broad-shouldered, and most malignant
wretch, whom my master found it almost impossible to manage; the
bastinado, or any other punishment, he derided, and after the
application only became more sullen and discontented than before. The
fire that flashed from his eyes, upon any fault being found by me on
account of his negligence, was so threatening, that I every day expected
I should be murdered. I repeatedly requested my master to part with him;
but the Ethiopian being a very powerful man, and able, when he chose, to
move a pipe of wine without assistance, the avarice of the Jew would not
permit him to accede to my repeated solicitations.

One morning I entered the cooperage, and found the Ethiopian fast asleep
by the side of a cask which I had been wanting for some time, and
expected to have found ready. Afraid to punish him myself, I brought my
master to witness his conduct. The Jew, enraged at his idleness, struck
him on the head with one of the staves. The Ethiopian sprang up in a
rage, but on seeing his master with the stave in his hand, contented
himself with muttering, "That he would not remain to be beaten in that
manner," and re-applied himself to his labour. As soon as my master had
left the cooperage, the Ethiopian vented his anger upon me for having
informed against him, and seizing the stave, flew at me with the
intention of beating out my brains. I stepped behind the cask; he
followed me, and just as I had seized an adze to defend myself, he fell
over the stool which lay in his way--he was springing up to renew the
attack, when I struck him a blow with the adze which entered his skull,
and laid him dead at my feet.

I was very much alarmed at what had occurred; for although I felt
justified in self-defence, I was aware that my master would be very much
annoyed at the loss of the slave, and as there were no witnesses, it
would go hard with me when brought before the cadi. After some
reflection I determined, as the slave had said "He would not remain to
be beaten," that I would leave my master to suppose he had run away, and
in the mean time conceal the body. But to effect this was difficult, as
I could not take it out of the cooperage without being perceived. After
some cogitation, I decided upon putting it into the cask, and heading it
up. It required all my strength to lift the body in, but at last I
succeeded. Having put in the head of the pipe, I hammered down the hoops
and rolled it into the store, where I had been waiting to fill it with
wine for the next year's demand. As soon as it was in its place, I
pumped off the wine from the vat, and having filled up the cask and put
in the bung, I felt as if a heavy load had been removed from my mind, as
there was no chance of immediate discovery.

I had but just completed my task, and was sitting down on one of the
settles, when my master came in, and inquired for the slave. I replied
that he had left the cooperage, swearing that he would work no more.
Afraid of losing him, the Jew hastened to give notice to the
authorities, that he might be apprehended; but after some time, as
nothing could be heard of the supposed runaway, it was imagined that he
had drowned himself in a fit of sullenness, and no more was thought
about him. In the meanwhile I continued to work there as before, and as
I had the charge of every thing I had no doubt but that, some day or
another, I should find means of quietly disposing of my incumbrance.

The next spring, I was busy pumping off from one cask into the other,
according to our custom, when the aga of the janissaries came in. He was
a great wine-bibber, and one of our best customers. As his dependents
were all well-known, it was not his custom to send them for wine, but to
come himself to the store and select a pipe. This was carried away in a
litter by eight strong slaves, with the curtains drawn close, as if it
had been a new purchase which he had added to his harem. My master
showed him the pipes of wine prepared for that year's market, which were
arranged in two rows; and I hardly need observe that the one containing
the Ethiopian was not in the foremost. After tasting one or two which
did not seem to please him, the aga observed, "Friend Issachar, thy
tribe will always put off the worst goods first, if possible. Now I have
an idea that there is better wine in the second tier, than in the one
thou hast recommended. Let thy Greek put a spile into that cask,"
continued he, pointing to the very one in which I had headed up the
black slave. As I made sure that as soon as he had tasted the contents
he would spit them out, I did not hesitate to bore the cask and draw off
the wine, which I handed to him. He tasted it and held it to the
light--tasted it again and smacked his lips--then turning to my master,
exclaimed, "Thou dog of a Jew! wouldst thou have palmed off upon me vile
trash, when thou hadst in thy possession wine which might be sipped with
the Houris in Paradise?"

The Jew appealed to me if the pipes of wine were not all of the same
quality; and I confirmed his assertion.

"Taste it then," replied the aga, "and then taste the first which you
recommended to me."

My master did so, and was evidently astonished. "It certainly has more
body," replied he; "yet how that can be, I know not. Taste it,
Charis."--I held the glass to my lips, but nothing could induce me to
taste the contents. I contented myself with agreeing with my master (as
I conscientiously could), "that it certainly had more _body_ in it than
the rest."

The aga was so pleased with the wine, that he tasted two or three more
pipes of the back tier, hoping to find others of the same quality,
probably intending to have laid in a large stock; but finding no other
of the same flavour, he ordered his slaves to roll the one containing
the body of the slave into the litter, and carried it to his own house.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Stop a moment, thou lying kafir!" said the pacha, "dost thou really
mean to say that the wine was better than the rest?"

"Why should I tell a lie to your sublime highness--am not I a worm that
you may crush? As I informed you, I did not taste it, your highness; but
after the aga had departed, my master expressed his surprise at the
excellence of the wine, which he affirmed to be superior to any thing
that he had ever tasted--and his sorrow that the aga had taken away the
cask, which prevented him from ascertaining the cause. But one day I was
narrating the circumstance to a Frank in this country, who expressed no
surprise at the wine being improved. He had been a wine-merchant in
England, and he informed me that it was the custom there to throw large
pieces of raw beef into the wine to feed it; and that some particular
wines were very much improved thereby."

"Allah Kebur! God is great!" cried the pacha--"Then it must be so--I
have heard that the English are very fond of beef. Now go on with thy
story."

       *       *       *       *       *

Your highness cannot imagine the alarm which I felt when the cask was
taken away by the aga's slaves. I gave myself up for a lost man, and
resolved upon immediate flight from Smyrna. I calculated the time that
it would take for the aga to drink the wine, and made my arrangements
accordingly. I told my master that it was my intention to leave him, as
I had an offer to go into business with a relation at Zante. My master,
who could not well do without me, entreated me to stay; but I was
positive. He then offered me a share of the business if I would remain,
but I was not to be persuaded. Every rap at the door, I thought that the
aga and his janissaries were coming for me; and I hastened my departure,
which was fixed for the following day,--when in the evening my master
came into the store with a paper in his hand.

"Charis," said he, "perhaps you have supposed that I only offered to
make you a partner in my business to induce you to remain, and then to
deceive you. To prove the contrary, here is a deed drawn up by which you
are a partner, and entitled to one-third of the future profits. Look at
it, you will find that it has been executed in due form before the
cadi."

He had put the paper into my hand, and I was about to return it with a
refusal, when a loud knocking at the door startled us both. It was a
party of janissaries despatched by the aga, to bring us to him
immediately. I knew well enough what it must be about, and I cursed my
folly in having delayed so long; but the fact was, the wine proved so
agreeable to the aga's palate that he had drunk it much faster than
usual; besides which, the body of the slave took up at least a third of
the cask, and diminished the contents in the same proportion. There was
no appeal, and no escape. My master, who was ignorant of the cause, did
not seem at all alarmed, but willingly accompanied the soldiers. I, on
the contrary, was nearly dead from fear.

When we arrived, the aga burst out in the most violent exclamations
against my master--"Thou rascal of a Jew!" said he, "dost thou think
that thou art to impose upon a true believer, and sell him a pipe of
wine which is not more than two-thirds full,--filling it up with trash
of some sort or another. Tell me what it is that is so heavy in the cask
now that it is empty?"

The Jew protested his ignorance, and appealed to me: I, of course,
pretended the same. "Well, then," replied the aga, "we will soon see.
Let thy Greek send for his tools, and the cask shall be opened in our
presence; then perhaps thou wilt recognise thine own knavery."

Two of the janissaries were despatched for the tools, and when they
arrived I was directed to take the head out of the cask. I now
considered my death as certain--nothing buoyed me up but my observing
that the resentment of the aga was levelled more against my master than
against me; but still I thought that, when the cask was opened, the
recognition of the black slave must immediately take place, and the
evidence of my master would fix the murder upon me.

It was with a trembling hand that I obeyed the orders of the aga--the
head of the pipe was taken out, and, to the horror of all present, the
body was exposed; but instead of being black, it had turned _white_,
from the time which it had been immersed. I rallied a little at this
circumstance, as, so far, suspicion would be removed.

"Holy Abraham!" exclaimed my master, "what is that which I see!--A dead
body, so help me God!--but I know nothing about it--do you, Charis?" I
vowed that I did not, and called the Patriarch to witness the truth of
my assertion. But while we were thus exclaiming, the aga's eyes were
fixed upon my master with an indignant and deadly stare which spoke
volumes; while the remainder of the people who were present, although
they said nothing, seemed as if they were ready to tear him into pieces.

"Cursed unbeliever!" at last uttered the Turk, "is it thus that thou
preparest the wine for the disciples of the Prophet?"

"Holy father Abraham!--I know no more than you do, aga, how that body
came there; but I will change the cask with pleasure, and will send you
another."

"Be it so," replied the aga; "my slave shall fetch it now." He gave
directions accordingly, and the litter soon reappeared with another pipe
of wine.

"It will be a heavy loss to a poor Jew--one pipe of good wine," observed
my master, as it was rolled out of the litter; and he took up his hat
with the intention to depart.

"Stay," cried the aga, "I do not mean to rob you of your wine."

"Oh, then, you will pay me for it," replied my master; "aga, you are a
considerate man."

"Thou shalt see," retorted the aga, who gave directions to his slaves to
draw off the wine in vessels. As soon as the pipe was empty, he desired
me to take the head out; and when I had obeyed him, he ordered his
janissaries to put my master in. In a minute he was gagged and bound,
and tossed into the pipe; and I was directed to put in the head as
before. I was very unwilling to comply; for I had no reason to complain
of my master, and knew that he was punished for the fault of which I had
been guilty. But it was a case of life or death,--and the days of
self-devotion have long passed away in our country. Besides which, I had
the deed in my pocket by which I was a partner in the business, and my
master had no heirs,--so that I stood a chance to come into the whole of
his property. Moreover----

       *       *       *       *       *

"Never mind your reasons," observed the pacha, "you headed him up in the
cask--go on."

"I did so, your highness; but although I dared not disobey, I assure you
that it was with a sorrowful heart--the more so, as I did not know the
fate which might be reserved for myself."

       *       *       *       *       *

As soon as the head was in, and the hoops driven on, the aga desired
his slaves to fill the cask up again with the wine; and thus did my poor
master perish.

"Put in the bung, Greek," said the aga, in a stern voice.

I did so, and stood trembling before him.

"Well! what knowest thou of this transaction?"

I thought, as the aga had taken away the life of my master, that it
would not hurt him if I took away a little from his character. I
answered that I really knew nothing, but that, the other day, a black
slave had disappeared in a very suspicious manner--that my master made
very little inquiry after him--and I now strongly suspected that he must
have suffered the same fate. I added, that my master had expressed
himself very sorry that his highness had taken away the pipe of wine, as
he would have reserved it.

"Cursed Jew!" replied the aga; "I don't doubt but he has murdered a
dozen in the same manner."

"I am afraid so, sir," replied I, "and suspect that I was to have been
his next victim; for when I talked of going away, he persuaded me to
stay, and gave me this paper, by which I was to become his partner with
one-third of the profits. I presume that I should not have enjoyed them
long."

"Well, Greek," observed the aga, "this is fortunate for you; as, upon
certain conditions, you may enter upon the whole property. One is, that
you keep this pipe of wine with the rascally Jew in it, that I may have
the pleasure occasionally to look at my revenge. You will also keep the
pipe with the other body in it, that it may keep my anger alive. The
last is, that you will supply me with what wine I may require, of the
very best quality, without making any charge. Do you consent to these
terms, or am I to consider you as a party to this infamous transaction?"

I hardly need observe that the terms were gladly accepted. Your highness
must be aware that nobody thinks much about a Jew. When I was questioned
as to his disappearance, I shrugged up my shoulders and told the
inquirers, confidentially, that the aga of the janissaries had put him
_in prison_, and that I was carrying on the business until his release.

In compliance with the wishes of the aga, the two casks containing the
Jew and the Ethiopian slave, were placed together on settles higher than
the rest, in the centre of the store. He would come in the evening, and
rail at the cask containing my late master for hours at a time; during
which he drank so much wine, that it was a very common circumstance for
him to remain in the house until the next morning.

You must not suppose, your highness, that I neglected to avail myself
(unknown to the aga) of the peculiar properties of the wine which those
casks contained. I had them spiled underneath, and, constantly running
off the wine from them, filled them up afresh. In a short time there was
not a gallon in my possession which had not a _dash_ in it of either the
Ethiopian or the Jew; and my wine was so improved, that it had a most
rapid sale, and I became rich.

All went on prosperously for three years; when the aga, who during that
time had been my constant guest, and at least three times a-week had
been intoxicated in my house, was ordered with his troops to join the
Sultan's army. By keeping company with him, I had insensibly imbibed a
taste for wine, although I never had been inebriated. The day that his
troops marched, he stopped at my door, and dismounting from his Arabian,
came in to take a farewell glass, desiring his men to go on, and that he
would ride after them. One glass brought on another, and the time flew
rapidly away. The evening closed in, and the aga was, as usual, in a
state of intoxication;--he insisted upon going down to the store, to
rail once more at the cask containing the body of the Jew. We had long
been on the most friendly terms, and having this night drunk more than
usual, I was incautious enough to say--"Prithee, aga, do not abuse my
poor master any more, for he has been the making of my fortune. I will
tell you a secret now that you are going away--there is not a drop of
wine in my store that has not been flavoured either by him, or by the
slave in the other cask. That is the reason why it is so much better
than other people's."

"How!" exclaimed the aga, who was now almost incapable of speech. "Very
well, rascal Greek! die you shall, like your master. Holy prophet! what
a state for a Mussulman to go to Paradise in--impregnated with the
essence of a cursed Jew!--Wretch! you shall die--you shall die."

He made a grasp at me, and missing his foot, fell on the ground in such
a state of drunkenness as not to be able to get up again. I knew that
when he became sober, he would not forget what had taken place, and that
I should be sacrificed to his vengeance. The fear of death, and the wine
which I had drunk, decided me how to act. I dragged him into an empty
pipe, put the head in, hooped it up, and rolling it into the tier,
filled it with wine. Thus did I revenge my poor master, and relieved
myself from any further molestation on the part of the aga.

       *       *       *       *       *

"What!" cried the pacha, in a rage, "you drowned a true believer--an aga
of janissaries! Thou dog of a kafir--thou son of Shitan--and dare avow
it! Call in the executioner."

"Mercy! your sublime highness, mercy!" cried the Greek--"Have I not your
promise by the sword of the prophet? Besides, he was no true believer,
or he would not have disobeyed the law. A good Mussulman will never
touch a drop of wine."

"I promised to forgive, and did forgive, the murder of the black slave;
but an aga of janissaries!--Is not that quite another thing?" appealed
the pacha to Mustapha.

"Your highness is just in your indignation--the kafir deserves to be
impaled. Yet there are two considerations which your slave ventures to
submit to your sublime wisdom. The first is, that your highness gave an
unconditional promise, and swore by the sword of the prophet."

"Staffir Allah! what care I for that! Had I sworn to a true believer, it
were something."

"The other is, that the slave has not yet finished his story, which
appears to be interesting."

"Wallah! that is true. Let him finish his story."

But the Greek slave remained with his face on the ground; and it was not
until a renewal of the promise, sworn upon the holy standard made out of
the nether garments of the prophet, by the pacha, who had recovered his
temper, and was anxious for the conclusion of the story, that he could
be induced to proceed, which he did as follows:--

       *       *       *       *       *

As soon as I had bunged up the cask, I went down to the yard where the
aga had left his horse, and having severely wounded the poor beast with
his sword, I let it loose that it might gallop home. The noise of the
horse's hoofs in the middle of the night, aroused his family, and when
they discovered that it was wounded and without its rider, they imagined
that the aga had been attacked and murdered by banditti when he had
followed his troop. They sent to me to ask at what time he had left my
house; I replied, an hour after dark--that he was very much intoxicated
at the time--and had left his sabre, which I returned. They had no
suspicions of the real facts, and it was believed that he had perished
on the road.

I was now rid of my dangerous acquaintance, and although he certainly
had drunk a great quantity of my wine, yet I recovered the value of it
with interest, from the flavour which I obtained from his body and which
I imparted to the rest of my stock. I raised him up alongside of the two
other casks; and my trade was more profitable and my wines in greater
repute than ever.

But one day the cadi, who had heard my wine extolled, came privately to
my house; I bowed to the ground at the honour conferred, for I had long
wished to have him as a customer. I drew some of my best--"This,
honourable sir," said I, presenting the glass, "is what I call my aga
wine: the late aga was so fond of it, he used to order a whole cask at
once to his house, and had it taken there in a litter."

"A good plan," replied the cadi, "much better than sending a slave with
a pitcher, which gives occasion for remarks: I will do the same; but,
first, let me taste all you have."

He tasted several casks, but none pleased him so much as the first which
I had recommended. At last he cast his eyes upon the three casks raised
above the others.

"And what are those?" inquired he.

"Empty casks, sir," replied I; but he had his stick in his hand, and he
struck one.

"Greek, thou tellest me these casks are empty, but they do not sound so;
I suspect that thou hast better wine than I have tasted: draw me off
from these immediately."

I was obliged to comply--he tasted them--vowed that the wine was
exquisite, and that he would purchase the whole. I stated to him that
the wine in those casks was used for flavouring the rest; and that the
price was enormous, hoping that he would not pay it. He inquired how
much--I asked him four times the price of the other wines.

"Agreed," said the cadi; "it is dear--but one cannot have good wine
without paying for it:--it is a bargain."

I was very much alarmed; and stated that I could not part with those
casks, as I should not be able to carry on my business with reputation,
if I lost the means of flavouring my wines, but all in vain; he said
that I had asked a price and he had agreed to give it. Ordering his
slaves to bring a litter, he would not leave the store until the whole
of the casks were carried away, and thus did I lose my Ethiopian, my
Jew, and my aga.

As I knew that the secret would soon be discovered, the very next day I
prepared for my departure. I received my money from the cadi, to whom I
stated my intention to leave, as he had obliged me to sell him those
wines, and I had no longer hopes of carrying on my business with
success. I again begged him to allow me to have them back, offering him
three pipes of wine as a present if he would consent, but it was of no
use. I chartered a vessel, which I loaded with the rest of my stock;
and, taking all my money with me, made sail for Corfu, before any
discovery had taken place. But we encountered a heavy gale of wind,
which, after a fortnight (during which we attempted in vain to make head
against it), forced us back to Smyrna. When the weather moderated, I
directed the captain to take the vessel into the outer roadstead that I
might sail as soon as possible. We had not dropped anchor again more
than five minutes when I perceived a boat pulling off from the shore in
which was the cadi and the officers of justice.

Convinced that I was discovered, I was at a loss how to proceed, when
the idea occurred to me that I might conceal my own body in a cask, as I
had before so well concealed those of others.

I called the captain down into the cabin, and telling him that I had
reason to suspect that the cadi would take my life, offered him a large
part of the cargo if he would assist me.

The captain who, unfortunately for me, was a Greek, consented. We went
down into the hold, started the wine out of one of the pipes, and having
taken out the head, I crawled in, and was hooped up.

The cadi came on board immediately afterwards and inquired for me. The
captain stated that I had fallen overboard in the gale, and that he had
in consequence returned, the vessel not being consigned to any house at
Corfu.

"Has then the accursed villain escaped my vengeance!" exclaimed the
cadi; "the murderer, that fines his wines with the bodies of his
fellow-creatures: but you may deceive me, Greek, we will examine the
vessel."

The officers who accompanied the cadi proceeded carefully to search
every part of the ship. Not being able to discover me, the Greek captain
was believed; and, after a thousand imprecations upon my soul, the cadi
and his people departed.

I now breathed more freely, notwithstanding I was nearly intoxicated
with the lees of the wine which impregnated the wood of the cask, and I
was anxious to be set at liberty; but the treacherous captain had no
such intention, and never came near me. At night he cut his cable and
made sail, and I overheard a conversation between two of the men, which
made known to me his intentions: these were to throw me overboard on his
passage, and take possession of my property. I cried out to them from
the bung-hole: I screamed for mercy, but in vain. One of them answered,
that, as I had murdered others, and put them into casks, I should now be
treated in the same manner.

I could not but mentally acknowledge the justice of my punishment, and
resigned myself to my fate; all that I wished was to be thrown over at
once and released from my misery. The momentary anticipation of death
appeared to be so much worse than the reality. But it was ordered
otherwise: a gale of wind blew up with such force, that the captain and
crew had enough to do to look after the vessel, and, either I was
forgotten or my doom was postponed until a more seasonable opportunity.

On the third day I heard the sailors observe that, with such a wretch as
I was remaining on board, the vessel must inevitably be lost. The
hatches were then opened: I was hoisted up and cast into the raging sea.
The bung of the cask was out, but by stuffing my handkerchief in, when
the hole was under water, I prevented the cask from filling; and when it
was uppermost, I removed it for a moment to obtain fresh air. I was
dreadfully bruised by the constant rolling, in a heavy sea, and
completely worn out with fatigue and pain; I had made up my mind to let
the water in and be rid of my life, when I was tossed over and over with
such dreadful rapidity as prevented my taking the precaution of keeping
out the water. After three successive rolls of the same kind, I found
that the cask, which had been in the surf, had struck on the beach. In a
moment after, I heard voices, and people came up to the cask and rolled
me along. I would not speak, lest they should be frightened and allow me
to remain on the beach, where I might again be tossed about by the
waves; but as soon as they stopped, I called in a faint voice from the
bung-hole, begging them for mercy's sake to let me out.

At first they appeared alarmed; but, on my repeating my request, and
stating that I was the owner of the ship which was off the land, and the
captain and crew had mutinied and tossed me overboard, they brought some
tools and set me at liberty.

The first sight that met my eyes after I was released, was my vessel
lying a wreck; each wave that hurled her further on the beach, breaking
her more and more to pieces. She was already divided amid-ships, and the
white foaming surf was covered with pipes of wine, which, as fast as
they were cast on shore, were rolled up by the same people who had
released me. I was so worn out, that I fainted where I lay. When I came
to, I found myself in a cave upon a bundle of capotes, and perceived a
party of forty or fifty men, who were sitting by a large fire, and
emptying with great rapidity one of my pipes of wine.

As soon as they observed that I was coming to my senses, they poured
some wine down my throat, which restored me. I was then desired by one
of them, who seemed to be the chief, to approach.

"The men who have been saved from the wreck," said he, "have told me
strange stories of your enormous crimes--now, sit down, and tell me the
truth--if I believe you, you shall have justice--I am cadi here--if you
wish to know where you are, it is upon the island of Ischia--if you wish
to know in what company, it is in the society of those who by illiberal
people are called pirates: now tell the truth."

I thought that with pirates my story would be received better than with
other people, and I therefore narrated my history to them, in the same
words that I now have to your highness. When I had finished, the
captain of the gang observed:--

"Well, then, as you acknowledge to have killed a slave, to have assisted
at the death of a Jew, and to have drowned an aga, you certainly deserve
death; but, on consideration of the excellence of the wine, and the
secret which you have imparted to us, I shall commute your sentence. As
for the captain and the remainder of the crew, they have been guilty of
treachery and piracy on the high seas--a most heinous offence, which
deserves instant death; but as it is by their means that we have been
put in possession of the wine, I shall be lenient. I therefore sentence
you all to hard labour for life. You shall be sold as slaves in Cairo,
and we will pocket the money and drink your wine."

The pirates loudly applauded the justice of a decision by which they
benefited, and all appeal on our parts was useless. When the weather
became more settled, we were put on board one of their small xebeques,
and on our arrival at this port were exposed for sale and purchased.

Such, pacha, is the history which induced me to make use of the
expressions which you wished to be explained; and I hope you will allow
that I have been more unfortunate than guilty, as on every occasion in
which I took away the life of another, I had only to choose between that
and my own.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Well, it is rather a curious story," observed the pacha, "but still, if
it were not for my promise, I certainly would have your head off for
drowning the aga--I consider it excessively impertinent in an
unbelieving Greek to suppose that his life is of the same value as that
of an aga of janissaries, and follower of the prophet; but, however, my
promise was given, and you may depart."

"The wisdom of your highness is brighter than the stars of heaven,"
observed Mustapha. "Shall the slave be honoured with your bounty?"

"Mashallah! bounty! I've given him his life, and, as he considers it of
more value than an aga's, I think 'tis a very handsome present. Drown an
aga, indeed!" continued the pacha, rising, "but it certainly was a very
curious story. Let it be written down, Mustapha. We'll hear the other
man to-morrow."




Chapter III


"Mustapha," said the pacha the next day, when they had closed the hall
of audience, "have you the other Giaour in readiness?"

"Bashem ustun! Upon my head be it, your highness. The infidel dog waits
but the command to crawl into your sublime presence."

"Let him approach, that our ears may be gratified. Barek Allah! Praise
be to God. There are others who can obtain stories besides the Caliph
Haroun."

The slave was ordered into the pacha's presence. He was a dark man with
handsome features, and he walked in with a haughty carriage, which
neither his condition nor tattered garments could disguise. When within
a few feet of the carpet of state he bowed and folded his arms in
silence. "I wish to know upon what grounds you asserted that you were so
good a judge of wine the other evening, when you were quarrelling with
the Greek slave."

"I stated my reason at the time, your highness, which was, because I had
been for many years a monk of the Dominican order."

"I recollect that you said so. What trade is that, Mustapha?" inquired
the pacha.

"If your slave is not mistaken, a good trade every where. The infidel
means that he was a mollah or dervish among the followers of Isauri."[2]

  [2] Jesus Christ.

"May they and their fathers' graves be eternally defiled," cried the
pacha. "Do not they drink wine and eat pork? Have you nothing more to
say?" inquired the pacha.

"My life has been one of interest," replied the slave, "and if it will
please your highness, I will narrate my history."

"It is our condescension. Sit down and proceed."



STORY OF THE MONK.

May it please your highness, I am a Spaniard by birth, and, a native of
Seville; but whether my father was a grandee, or of a more humble
extraction, I cannot positively assert. All that I can establish is,
that when reason dawned, I found myself in the asylum instituted by
government, in that city, for those unfortunate beings who are brought
up upon black bread and oil, because their unnatural parents either do
not choose to incur the expense of their maintenance, or having, in the
first instance, allowed unlawful love to conquer shame, end by
permitting shame to overcome maternal love.

It is the custom, at a certain age, to put these children out to
different trades and callings; and those who show precocity of talent
are often received into the bosom of the church.

Gifted by nature with a very fine voice and correct ear for music, I was
selected to be brought up as a chorister in a Dominican convent of great
reputation. At the age of ten years, I was placed under the charge of
the leader of the choir. Under his directions, I was fully occupied
receiving my lessons in singing, or at other times performing the junior
offices of the church, such as carrying the frankincense or large wax
tapers in the processions. As a child my voice was much admired; and
after the service was over, I often received presents of sweetmeats from
the ladies, who brought them in their pockets for the little Anselmo. As
I grew up, I became a remarkable proficient in music; at the age of
twenty, I possessed a fine counter-tenor; and flattered by the
solicitations of the superior of the convent and other dignitaries of
the church, I consented to take the vows, and became a member of the
fraternity.

Although there was no want of liberty in our convent, I was permitted
even more than the rest of the monks. I gave lessons in music and
singing, and a portion of my earnings were placed in the superior's
hands for the benefit of the fraternity. Independent of this, my
reputation was spread all over Seville; and hundreds used to attend the
mass performed in our church, that they might hear the voice of brother
Anselmo. I was therefore considered as a valuable property, and the
convent would have suffered a great deal by my quitting it. Although I
could not be released from my vows, still I could by application have
been transferred to Madrid; and the superior, aware of this
circumstance, allowed me every indulgence, with the hopes of my being
persuaded to remain. The money which I retained for my own exigencies
enabled me to make friends with the porter, and I obtained egress or
ingress at any hour. I was a proficient on the guitar; and incongruous
as it may appear with my monastic vows, I often hastened from the
service at vespers to perform in a serenade to some fair senora, whose
_inamorato_ required the powers of my voice to soften her to his wishes.

My sedillas and canzonettas were much admired; and eventually no
serenade was considered as effective, without the assistance of the
counter-tenor of Anselmo. I hardly need observe that it was very
profitable; and that I had the means of supplying myself with luxuries
which the rules of our order did not admit. I soon became irregular and
debauched; often sitting up whole nights with the young cavaliers,
drinking and singing amorous songs for their amusement. Still, however,
my conduct was not known, or was overlooked for the reasons which I have
stated before.

When once a man indulges to excess in wine, he is assailed by, and
becomes an easy prey to every other vice. This error soon led me into
others; and, regardless of my monastic vows, I often felt more inclined
to serenade upon my own account than on that of my employers. I had the
advantage of a very handsome face, but it was disguised by the shaven
crown and the unbecoming manner of cutting the hair; the coarse and
unwieldly monastic dress belonging to our order hid the symmetry of my
limbs, which, might have otherwise attracted notice on the Prado. I soon
perceived that, although my singing was admired by the other sex, their
admiration went no further. They seemed to consider that in every other
point I was, as I ought to have been, dead to the world.

There was a young lady, Donna Sophia, whom I had for some time
instructed in music, who appeared to be more favourably inclined. She
was an excellent performer, and passionately fond of the science: and I
have always observed, your highness, that between the real amateurs of
harmony there is a sympathy, a description of free-masonry, which
immediately puts them on a level, and on terms of extreme intimacy; so
much so, that were I a married man, and my wife extremely partial to
music, I should be very careful how I introduced to her a person of a
similar feeling, if I possessed it not myself. I was very much in the
good graces of this young lady, and flattered myself with a successful
issue: when one day, as we were singing a duet, a handsome young officer
made his appearance. His hair, which was of the finest brown, curled in
natural ringlets: and his clothes were remarkably well-fitted to his
slender and graceful figure. He was a cousin, who had just returned from
Carthagena; and as he was remarkably attentive, I soon perceived that
all my advances had been thrown away, and that I was more and more in
the background each morning that I made my appearance.

Annoyed at this, I ventured to speak too freely; and during his absence
calumniated him to the Donna Sophia, hoping by these means to regain my
place in her affections; but I made a sad mistake: for not only were my
services dispensed with for the future, but, as I afterwards
discovered, she stated to her cousin the grounds upon which I had been
dismissed.

I returned to the convent in no pleasant mood, when I was informed that
my presence had been demanded by the superior. I repaired to the
parlour, where he stated that my licentious conduct had come to his
ears; and after much upbraiding, he concluded by ordering me to submit
to a severe penance. Aware that disobedience would only be followed up
by greater severity, I bowed with humility in my mien, but with
indignation in my breast; and returning to my cell, resolved upon
immediately writing for my removal to Madrid. I had not been there many
minutes when the porter brought me a note. It was from Donna Sophia,
requesting to see me that evening, and apologising for her apparent
ill-usage, which she had only assumed the better to conceal her
intentions; being afraid, at our last interview, that her mother was
within hearing.

I was in raptures when I perused the note, and hastened to comply with
her request. Her directions were to repair to the back door, which
looked out upon some fields, and give three taps. I arrived, and as soon
as I raised my hand to give the signal, was seized by four men in masks,
who gagged and bound me. They then stripped off my friar's dress, and
scourged me with nettles, until I was almost frantic with the pain. When
their vengeance was satisfied, they cast me loose, removed the gag, and
ran away. As I then suspected, and afterwards discovered to be true, I
was indebted to the young officer for this treatment, in return for what
I had said, and which his mistress had repeated. Smarting with pain, and
boiling with rage, I dragged on my clothes as well as I could, and began
to reflect in what manner I should act. Conceal my situation from the
other members of the convent I could not; and to explain it would not
only be too humiliating, but subject me to more rigorous discipline. At
last, I considered that out of evil might spring good; and gathering a
large bundle of the nettles, which grew under the walls, I crawled back
to the convent. When I attained my cell, I threw off my gown, which was
now unbearable from the swelling of my limbs, and commenced thrashing
the walls of my cell and my bed with the nettles which I had procured.

After a short time I moaned piteously, and continued so to do, louder
and louder, until some of the friars got up to inquire the reason; when
they found me, apparently, castigating myself in this cruel manner. When
they opened the door, I threw myself on the bed, and cried still more
vociferously. This certainly was the only part of my conduct which was
not deceptive, for I was in the most acute agony. To their inquiries, I
told them that I had been guilty of great enormities; that the superior
had reproved me, and ordered me penance; and that I had scourged myself
with nettles; requesting them to continue the application as my strength
had failed me. With this injunction they were too humane to comply. Some
went for the surgeon of the convent, while others reported the
circumstance to the superior. The former applied remedies which assuaged
the pain: the latter was so pleased at my apparent contrition, that he
gave me absolution, and relieved me from the penance to which I had been
subjected. When I recovered, I was more in favour, and was permitted the
same indulgences as before.

But I was some days confined to my bed, during which I was continually
reflecting upon what had passed. I perceived, to my misery, the pale
which I had placed between me and the world, by embracing a monastic
life; and how unfit I was, by temperament, to fulfil my vows. I cursed
my father and mother, who had been the original cause of my present
situation. I cursed the monastic dress which blazoned forth my unhappy
condition. Then I thought of the treacherous girl, and planned schemes
of revenge. I compared my personal qualifications with those of the
young officer; and vanity suggested, that were it not for my vile
professional disguise, the advantage was on my side. At last I decided
upon the steps that I would take.

As I before stated, my purse was well supplied from the lessons which I
gave in music, and from assisting at the serenades. When I was
sufficiently recovered to go out, I proceeded to a barber, and on the
plea of continual headache, for which it had been recommended that I
should shave my head, requested him to make me a false tonsure. In a few
days it was ready, and being very well made, no difference could be
perceived between the wig and my own hair, which was then removed. So
far I had succeeded; but as the greatest caution was necessary in a
proceeding of this nature, to avoid suspicion, I returned to the
convent, where I remained quiet for several days. One evening I again
sallied forth, and when it was quite dark repaired to the _friperie_
show of a Jew, where I purchased a second--hand suit of cavalier's
clothes, which I thought would fit me. I concealed them in my cell, and
the next morning, went in search of a small lodging in some obscure
part, where I might not be subject to observation. This was difficult,
but I at last succeeded in finding one to let, which opened upon a
general staircase of a house, which was appropriated to a variety of
lodgers, who were constantly passing and repassing. I paid the first
month in advance, stating it would be occupied by a brother, whom I
daily expected; in the meantime took possession of the key. I bought a
small chest, which I had conveyed to my lodgings, and having removed my
cavalier's dress from the convent, locked it up. I then remained quiet
as before, not only to avoid suspicion, but to ingratiate myself with
the superior, by my supposed reformation.

After a few days, I sallied forth, and leaving a note for one of the
most skilful perruquiers of Seville, desired him to call at my lodgings,
at an hour indicated. Having repaired there, to be ready to receive him,
I took off my monk's dress and false tonsure, which I locked up in my
chest; I tied a silk handkerchief round my head, and got into bed,
leaving the cavalier's suit on my chair near to me. The perruquier
knocked at the appointed time. I desired him to come in, apologised for
my servant being absent on a message, and stating that I had been
obliged to shave my head on account of a fever, from which I had now
recovered, requested that he would provide me with a handsome wig. I
explained at his request the colour and description of hair which I had
lost; and in so doing, represented it as much lighter than my own really
was, and similar to that of the young officer, whose ringlets had been
the cause of my last disaster. I paid him a part of the price down, and
having agreed upon the exact time at which it should be delivered, he
departed; when I rose from my bed, I resumed my monastic dress and
tonsure, and returned to the convent.

During the whole of the time occupied by these transactions, I had been
assiduous in laying up money, which before I had squandered as fast as I
obtained it, and had realised a considerable sum. I could not help
comparing myself to a chrysalis previous to its transformation. I had
before been a caterpillar, I was now all ready to burst my confinement,
and flit about as a gaudy butterfly. Another week, I continued my
prudent conduct, at the end of which I was admitted to my superior, in
whose hands I placed a sum of money which I could very conveniently
spare, and received his benediction and commendations for having weaned
myself from my former excesses. With a quickened pulse, I hastened to my
lodgings, and throwing off my hateful gown and tonsure, dressed myself
in my new attire.

The transformation was complete. I could not recognise myself. I hardly
could believe that the dashing young cavalier that confronted me in the
mirror, was the brother Anselmo. "Is this a face," said I, communing
with myself, "to be disfigured with a vile tonsure? are these limbs to
be hid under the repulsive garment of a monk?" Again I surveyed myself,
and it was with difficulty that I could tear myself away from
contemplating my metamorphosis. I was indeed a butterfly. At last, I
determined upon sallying forth. I locked up my monastic dress and
descended the staircase. I must acknowledge, that it was with
trepidation I ventured into the street, but I had soon reason to take
confidence, for I was met by one of my most intimate friends, who looked
in my face, and passed on without the slightest recognition. Overjoyed
at this circumstance, I took courage, and boldly proceeded to the Prado,
where I was greeted with favourable glances from the women, and sneers
from the men, both of which I considered equally flattering. In the
evening, I returned to my lodgings, resumed the habit of my order, and
gained the convent. I now felt that there was no chance of discovery,
and anticipated the happiness which had been denied me. I subsequently
ordered the most fashionable and expensive clothes, hired my lodgings
for six months, assumed the name of Don Pedro, made the acquaintance of
many young men, and amongst others of the officer who had treated me so
ill. He took a fancy to me, which I encouraged to further my views. I
became his confidant, he informed me of his amour with his cousin,
adding that he was tired of the business, and wished to break with her;
also, as an excellent joke, the punishment which he had inflicted upon
the friar Anselmo.

He was a great proficient with the small sword, an accomplishment, which
of course had been neglected in my education, and which I accounted for
by stating that until the death of my elder brother, I had been intended
for the church. I accepted his offer to be my instructor, and my first
rudiments in the science were received from him. Afterwards I applied to
a professor, and, constantly practising, in the course of a few months,
I knew, from occasional trials of skill with the officer, that I was his
superior. My revenge, which hitherto had been controlled was now ripe.

But in narrating my adventures abroad, it must not be supposed that I
neglected every thing that prudence or caution could suggest, to avoid
discovery. On the contrary, now that I had the means of enjoying
myself, I was more careful that I did not by any indiscretion excite
surmises. I generally devoted four days out of the seven in the week to
the convent and to my professional occupation as music-master. To
increase the difficulty of identification, I became more serious in my
manner, more dirty in my person, as the brother Anselmo. I pretended to
have imbibed a fancy for snuff, with which I soiled my face and monastic
attire, and seldom if ever spoke, or if I did, in a very solemn voice.
So far from suspicion, I every day gained more and more the good will of
the superior. My absence in the day-time was not noticed, as it was
known that I gave lessons in music, and my irregularity during the night
was a secret between the porter and myself.

I hardly need observe that, as Don Pedro, I always lamented not having
been gifted with a voice, and have even in the presence of my
companions, sent a billet to brother Anselmo to serenade a lady whom I
courted as Don Pedro. I do not believe until ulterior circumstances,
that there was ever in the mind of any the slightest idea that, under my
dissimilar habits, I was one and the same person.

But to continue: one day the young officer, whose name was Don Lopez,
informed me that he did not know how to act; he was so pestered with the
jealousy and reproaches of his mistress; and requested my advice as to
how to proceed. I laughed at his dilemma. "My dear Lopez," replied I,
"introduce me to her, and depend upon it, that she will give you no more
trouble. I will make love to her, and, pleased with her new conquest,
she will soon forget you."

"My good fellow," replied he, "your advice is excellent: will you come
with me this afternoon?"

Once more I was in the presence of her whom I had loved, but loved no
more, for I now only felt and lived for revenge. She had not the most
distant recognition of me. Piqued as she was with Don Lopez, and
fascinated with my exertions to please, I soon gained an interest; but
she still loved him, between the paroxysms of her hate. Trying all she
could to recover him at one moment, and listening to my attentions at
another, he at last accused her of perfidy, and took his leave for ever.
Then her violence broke out, and as a proof of my attachment, she
demanded that I should call him to account. I wished no better, and
pretending to be so violently attached to her that I was infatuated, I
took an occasion of his laughing at me, to give him the lie, and demand
satisfaction. As it was in the presence of others, there was no recall
or explanation allowed. We met by agreement, alone, in the very field
where I had received my chastisement; I brought with me my monastic
habit and tonsure, which I concealed before his arrival among the very
nettles which he had gathered for my chastisement. The conflict was not
long: after a few thrusts and parries, he lay dying at my feet. I
immediately threw over my dress that of the friar, and exchanging the
wig for the tonsure, stood by him. He opened his eyes, which had closed
from the fainting, occasioned by the sudden gush from his wound, and
looked at me with amazement.

"Yes, Don Lopez," said I, "in Don Pedro behold the Friar Anselmo; he
whom you scourged with nettles; he who has revenged the insult." I then
threw off the monk's dress, and exposed to him the other beneath it, and
changing my tonsure for the wig, "now you are convinced of the truth,"
added I, "and now I have my revenge."

"I am, I am," replied he faintly; "but if you have slain me as Don
Pedro, now that I am dying, I entreat you, as brother Anselmo, to give
me absolution. Carry not your revenge so far as to deny me this."

I could not refuse; and I gave absolution in the one costume, to the man
who had fallen by my hand in the other: for my own part, I thought it
was an absurdity, but my revenge was satisfied, and I would not refuse
him such a poor consolation.

A few minutes afterwards he expired, and I hastened to my lodgings,
changed my dress, and repaired to the convent, where, as Don Pedro I
wrote to Donna Sophia, informing her of what had taken place, and of my
having absconded until the hue and cry should be over. For three weeks I
remained in the convent, or only appeared abroad as the Friar Anselmo. I
brought a considerable sum to the superior for the use of the church,
partly to satisfy the qualms of conscience which assailed me for the
crime which I had committed; partly that I might continue in his good
graces.

At the expiration of the time I sent a note to the young lady, as from
Don Pedro, acquainting her with my return, and my intention to call upon
her in the dusk of the evening. I went to my lodgings, dressed myself as
Don Pedro, and tapping at her door, was admitted; but instead of being
cordially greeted, as I expected, I was repulsed, loaded with abuse, and
declared an object of detestation. It appeared that, although in her
rage at the desertion of her lover, she had listened to the dictates of
revenge, now that he was no more, all her affection for him had revived.
I returned her upbraiding, and quitted the room to leave the house: but
she had no intention that I should escape, and had stationed two of her
relations below, ready to intercept me.

She called to them as I descended the stairs; when I arrived at the
hall, I found them with drawn swords to dispute my passage. I had no
resource but to fight my way; and charging them furiously, I severely
wounded one, and shortly afterwards disarmed the other, just as the
enraged fair one, who perceived that I was gaining the day, had run
behind me and seized my arms; but she was too late: I threw her
indignantly upon the wounded man, and walked out of the house. As soon
as I was in the street, I took to my heels, gained my lodgings, changed
my dress, and repaired to the convent.

This adventure sobered me much. I now remained quiet for some months,
never assuming my dress as Don Pedro, lest the officers of justice
should lay hold of me. I became more rigid and exact in my duties, and
more austere in my manner.

The several confessional chairs in our church were usually occupied by
the senior monks, although, when absent from sickness or other causes,
the juniors occasionally supplied their place. One of the monks had been
taken ill, and I knew that the mother of the young lady, who was very
strict in her religious duties, confessed at that chair every Friday; I
took possession of it, with the hopes that I should find out some means
of prosecuting my revenge. The young lady also confessed at the same
chair, when she did come, which was but seldom. Since the death of her
lover, she had never made her appearance.

As I anticipated, the mother came, and after having run over a string of
peccadilloes, for which I ordered a slight penance, I inquired, through
the punctured communication on the side of the confessional chair,
whether she had not children, to which she answered in the affirmative.
I then asked when her daughter had confessed last. She mentioned a long
date, and I commenced a serious expostulation upon the neglect of
parents, desiring that her daughter might be brought to confess, or
otherwise I should be obliged to inflict a penance of some hundred
Pater-Nosters and Ave-Marias upon herself, for not attending to her
parental duties. The old lady, who had no wish to submit to her own
penance, promised to bring her daughter the next day, and she was true
to her word. Donna Sophia appeared to come very unwillingly. As soon as
she had taken her seat by the confessional chair, she made a confession
of a hundred little nothings, and having finished her catalogue, stopped
as if waiting for absolution.

"Have you made no reservation?" inquired I, in the low muttering tone
which is used at the confessional; for although neither party can
distinguish the person of the other, I did not wish her to recognise my
voice.

"Every thing," replied she, in a faint whisper.

"My daughter," replied I, "by your trembling answer, I know that you
are deceiving yourself and me. I am an old man, and have been too many
years in this chair, not to ascertain by the answers which I receive,
whether the conscience is unloaded. Yours, I am convinced, has something
pressing heavily upon it; something for which you would fain have
absolution, but which you are ashamed to reveal. If not a principal, you
have been a party to crime; and never shall you have absolution until
you have made a full confession." Her heart swelled with emotion, she
attempted to speak, and burst into tears. "These are harbingers of
good," observed I; "I am now convinced that my supposition was correct:
pour out your soul in tribulation, and receive that comfort which I am
empowered to bestow. Courage, my daughter! the best of us are but
grievous sinners." As soon as she could check her sobbing, she commenced
her confession; narrating her penchant for me, her subsequent attachment
to the young officer, my abuse of him, and the punishment which had
ensued--his desertion, the introduction of Don Pedro, her pique at
having instigated him to kill her lover, his death, and all that I have
narrated to your highness.

"These are serious crimes, my daughter! grievous indeed; you have
yielded to the tempter in your own person, caused the death of one man,
you have led another astray, and have deceived him, when he claimed the
reward of his iniquity; but all these are trifles compared to the
offence upon the holy monk, which is the worst of sacrilege. And what
was his fault? that he cautioned you against a person, whose subsequent
conduct has proved, that the worthy man was correct in his suppositions.

"In every way you have offended Heaven; a whole life will be scarce
sufficient for the task of repentance, laying aside the enormous crime
of sacrilege, which, in justice, ought to be referred to the
Inquisition. Excommunication is more fitting in your case than
absolution." I waited some time before I again spoke, during which she
sobbed bitterly. "My daughter," observed I, "before I can decide upon
what is to be done to save you from everlasting perdition, it is
necessary that you humble yourself before the religious man, whose
person you have abused. Send to the convent to which he belongs, and
entreat him to come; and when you have confessed your crime, offer to
him the same implements of punishment, which through your instigation
were so sacrilegiously applied. Submit to his sentence, and the penance
which he may prescribe. When you have done that, repair again to me. I
shall be in this chair the day after to-morrow."

The girl muffled up her face, waited a few minutes to compose herself,
and then returned to her mother, who wondered what could have detained
her so long.

That evening, I received a note from Donna Sophia, requesting me to call
on the ensuing day. I found her in her room, she had been weeping
bitterly, and when I entered coloured up with shame and vexation; but
she had been too much frightened on the day before, to resist the
injunctions which she had received: a large bundle of nettles lay on the
chair; and when I entered she turned the key of the door, and falling
down on her knees, with many tears made a full confession. I expressed
the utmost horror and surprise; she embraced my knees, implored my
pardon, and then, pointing to the nettles, requested I would use them if
I thought proper. Having said this, she covered her face with her hands,
and remained on her knees in silence.

I must confess, that when I called to mind the punishment which had been
inflicted on me through her means, and the manner in which she had
attempted to betray me to my death, I felt very much inclined to revenge
myself by scourging her severely; but although the affection I once felt
for her had passed away, I had a natural tenderness for the sex, which
made me abandon this petty revenge. My object was to remove her, so that
I might not be recognised in my worldly attire; and she, I knew, was the
only person who could prove that I had killed her lover. I therefore
raised her up, and telling her that I was satisfied with her
repentance, and, as far as I was personally concerned, forgave her
ill-treatment, desired her to repair to her confessor, who was the
proper person to award a punishment for such a catalogue of heinous
crimes. The next day I was in the confessional, when she narrated all
that had passed: I then told her she had nothing to do, but to
propitiate Heaven by dedicating her musical talents to its service;
pointing out, that her only chance of salvation was from immediately
taking the veil. I refused to listen to any other species of penance,
however severe, for which she gladly would have compromised the
sentence. Goaded by her conscience, miserable at the desertion and death
of her lover, and alarmed at the threats of excommunication, in less
than a week she repaired to the Ursuline Convent; and, after a short
probation, she took the veil, and was admitted as one of the sisterhood.

As soon as my only accuser was fairly locked up, I occasionally resumed
my dress and wig. I say occasionally, because in the society which I
chiefly delighted in, and in which I became the connoisseur of good
wine, that I asserted myself to be, when your highness overheard me, I
had no occasion for it, being quite as well received when I sang and
played the guitar in my monkish dress, as I should have been in my
other. Besides which, I never had to pay when in that costume, as I was
obliged to do when I sported the other; which was only put on when I
wished to make myself agreeable to any fair one. I hardly need observe,
that I took great care to avoid the society in the one dress with which
I mixed in the other. This disguise I continued very successfully for
three years, when a circumstance occurred, which ended in my discovery,
and my eventually becoming a slave in your highness's dominions.

For some time I had taught the niece of an elderly lady, who was of
noble family and very rich. The aunt was always present at the lessons;
and, knowing that she was very devout, I rejected all songs that were of
an amorous tendency, and would only practise such as were unimpeachable.
In my demeanour I was always sedate and respectful--full of humility
and self-accusation. When I received my money from the old lady, I used
to thank her in the name of our convent, for whose use it was to be
appropriated, and call her donation a charity, for which Heaven would
reward her. Her confessor died, and the old lady chose me to supply his
place. This was what I was anxious to obtain, and I redoubled my zeal,
my humility, and my flattery.

It was not that I had originally any design upon the affections of the
niece, although she was a very pretty girl, but upon the old lady's
purse, for I knew that she could not last for many years. On the
contrary, I was anxious, if possible, to have the niece removed, as it
was supposed that she would inherit the old lady's doubloons; but this
required time and opportunity, and, in the mean while, I assiduously
cultivated the old lady's good graces. She used to confess once a week;
and I often observed that she acknowledged as a sin, thinking too much
of one who had led her from her duty in former days, and for whom she
still felt too much worldly passion. One evening when the clock had
struck ten, we had laid down the cards, which we occasionally played, it
being the day and her usual hour for confessing. Again she repeated the
same offence, and I then delicately hinted, that she might be more at
ease if she were to confide to me the circumstances connected with her
compunctions. She hesitated; but on my pointing out to her that there
ought to be no reservation, and that the acknowledgment of the
compunction arising from a sin was not that of the sin itself, she
acquiesced. Her confession referred to her early days, when, attached to
a young cavalier, against the wishes of her parents, under a solemn
promise of marriage, she had consented to receive him into her chamber.
The intercourse continued for some time, when it was discovered. Her
lover had been waylaid and murdered by her relations, and she had been
thrown into a convent. There she had been confined, and the child
removed as soon as it was born: she had resisted all the force and
threats employed to induce her to take the veil; and at the death of
her father had been released and came into possession of her property,
of which they could not deprive her: that she made every endeavour to
find out to where her child had been removed, and at last discovered
that it had been sent to the Foundling Asylum; but this information was
not obtained until some years afterwards, and all the children sent
there at the period had been dispersed. Never having married, her
thoughts would revert to the scenes which had taken place with her
adored Felix, although years had rolled away, and she felt that she was
wrong to dwell upon what in itself had been so criminal.

I listened to her story with great interest, for the idea occurred to
me, that I might be the unfortunate offspring of their loves, and if
not, that in all probability the old lady might be induced so to
believe. I inquired whether her child had any marks by which he could be
recognised. She answered, that she made most particular inquiries of the
people who attended her, and that one of the women had stated that the
child had a large wart upon the back of its neck: this however was not
likely to remain, and she had abandoned all hopes of its discovery.

I observed that warts were easily removed when contracted accidentally,
but that those which appeared at the birth were no more to be removed
than moles. I then turned the conversation, by stating that I could not
consider her conduct criminal; it was more than could be expected from
human nature, that she should not retain affection for one who had lived
with her as a husband, and died for her sake. I gave her absolution for
half a dozen Ave-Marias, and took my leave for the night. When I lay on
my pallet, I reflected upon what had passed; the year and month agreed
exactly with the time at which I had been sent to the Asylum. A wart, as
she very truly observed, might disappear. Might not I be the very son
whom she was lamenting? The next morning I repaired to the Asylum, and
demanded the date of my reception, with all the particulars, which were
invariably registered in case of the infants being eventually claimed.
It was in the month of February. There was one other entry in the same
month, same day, and nearly the same hour as my own.

"At nine at night, a male infant left at the door in a basket, parties
absconded, no marks, named Anselmo."

"At ten at night, a male infant brought to the door in a capote, parties
absconded, no marks, named Jacobo."

It appeared then that there were two children brought within an hour of
each other to the Asylum, and that I was one of them. In the evening I
returned to the old lady, and accidentally resumed the subject of her
not having made further search for her child, and asked if she had the
precise date. She answered that she had it in her memory too well, and
it was on the 18th of February; and that when she referred to the
Asylum, they had informed her that the children brought in February had
no marks; that they had all been sent away, but where they could not
tell, as the former governor had died, and he was the only person who
could give the information. That either I or the other was her child was
clear, but to prove which, was impossible. It however made me less
scrupulous about my plan of proceeding, which was to identify myself
with the child she had lost. It was useless to prove that I was sent in
on that day as there was a competitor; besides which, my monastic vows
were at variance with my speculation: I therefore resolved to satisfy
her, if I could not satisfactorily prove it to myself or to the rest of
the world, and I took my measures accordingly.

It was in my worldly disguise, that I determined to attempt my purpose;
and as it was necessary to have a wart on my neck, I resolved to obtain
one as soon as possible. This was easily managed: a friar of the convent
was troubled with these excrescences, and I jocularly proposed a trial
to see whether it was true that the blood of them would inoculate. In a
fortnight I had a wart on my finger which soon became large, and I then
applied the blood of it to my neck. Within three months I had a large
wart on the back, of my neck, or rather a conglomeration of them, which
I had produced by inoculation, assisted by constant irritation: during
this period I was not so frequent in my attendance upon the old lady,
excusing myself on account of the duties of the convent which devolved
upon me. The next point was how to introduce myself in my other apparel.
This required some reflection, as it would be but occasionally that I
could make my appearance. After some reflection, I determined that the
niece should assist me, for I knew that even if I succeeded in my plans,
she would be a participator in the property which I wished to secure.
Often left in her company, I took opportunities of talking of a young
friend whom I highly extolled. When I had raised her curiosity, I
mentioned in a laughing manner, that I suspected he was very much
smitten with her charms, as I had often found him watching at the house
opposite. An admirer is always a source of gratification to a young
girl; her vanity was flattered, and she asked me many particulars. I
answered them so as to inflame her curiosity, describing his person in a
very favourable manner, and extolling his good qualities. I also
minutely described his dress. After the music lesson was over, I
returned to my lodgings, arrayed myself in my best suit, and putting on
my curling ringlets, walked up and down before the window of the house.
The niece soon recognised me as the person whose dress and appearance I
had so minutely described, one moment showing herself at the window, at
another darting away with all the coquetry of her sex. I perceived that
she was flattered with her conquest; and, after parading myself for a
short time, I disappeared.

When I called the next day in my monastic costume, I had a billet-doux
ready in my pocket. The singing commenced: I soon found out that she had
a prepossession, from her selecting a song which in the presence of her
aunt I should have put on one side, but it now suited my purpose that
she should be indulged. When the aunt made her appearance we stopped,
and commenced another: by this little ruse I became a sort of
confidant, and the intimacy which I desired was brought about. When we
had practised two or three songs, Donna Celia, the aunt, left the room:
I then observed that I had seen the young cavalier whom I had mentioned,
and that he appeared to be more infatuated than ever: that he had
requested me as a favour to speak on his behalf, but that I had
threatened to acquaint her aunt if he mentioned the subject; for I
considered that my duty as a confessor in the family would be very
irreconcileable with carrying clandestine love-messages. I acknowledged
that I pitied his condition; for to see the tears that he shed, and
listen to the supplications which he had made, would have softened
almost any body; but that notwithstanding my great regard for him, I
thought it inconsistent with my duty to interfere in such a business: I
added, that he had told me that he had walked before the house yesterday
afternoon, with the hopes of meeting one of the servants, whom he might
bribe to convey a letter; and that I had threatened to acquaint Donna
Celia if he mentioned the subject again. Donna Clara (for such was her
name) appeared very much annoyed at my pretended rigour, but said
nothing. After a little while, I asked her if she had seen him; she
replied in the affirmative without further remarks. Her work-box lay
upon the sofa, upon which she had been seated, and I put the note in it
without being perceived. The lesson was finished, and I repaired to her
aunt's apartments to pay her a visit in the quality of confessor. After
half-an-hour's conversation, I returned through the saloon, where I had
left Donna Clara: she was at her embroidery, and had evidently seen and
read the note, for she coloured up when I entered. I took no notice,
but, satisfied that she had read it, I bade her adieu. In the note, I
had implored her for an answer, and stated that I should be under her
window during the whole night. As soon as it was dark, I dressed myself
as Don Pedro and repaired to the street, striking a few notes on the
guitar to attract her attention. I remained there more than
half-an-hour, when the casement opened, and a little hand threw out a
billet, which fell at my feet: I kissed it with apparent rapture, and
retired. When I gained my lodgings, I opened it, and found it as
favourable as I could hope. My plan then was to act as her confidant.

When I called the next day, I told her that, satisfied with the
honourable intentions of the young cavalier, he had overcome my
scruples, and I had consented to speak in his behalf: that I thought it
was not right; but the state of the young man was so deplorable, that I
could not withstand his entreaties; but that I expected that no steps
would be taken by either party without my concurrence; and with this
proviso, if she was pleased with the young cavalier, I would exert my
influence in their behalf. Donna Clara's face beamed with delight at my
communication: and she candidly acknowledged, as she had before in the
note, that his person and his character were by no means displeasing. I
then produced another note, which I said he had prevailed upon me to
deliver. After this, affairs went on successfully. I repeatedly met her
in the evening; and although I at first was indifferent, yet I soon
became attached from the many amiable and endearing qualities which love
had brought to light. She one day observed that there was a strong
resemblance between Don Pedro and me, but the possibility of a serious
shaven monk, and a gay cavalier with his curling locks, being one and
the same person, never entered her head. When I considered matters ripe,
I called upon Donna Celia, and, with the preamble that I had something
of importance to communicate, informed her I had discovered that a young
man was attached to her niece; and that I strongly suspected the regard
was reciprocal; that I knew the young cavalier very well, who was very
amiable, and possessed many good qualities, but there seemed to be a
mystery about his family, as he never mentioned them. I ended by
observing, that I considered it my duty to acquaint her with the
circumstance; as if she objected to the match, or had other views for
her niece, an immediate stop ought to be put to their correspondence.

The old lady was very much astonished at the information, and very angry
that her niece should have presumed to make an acquaintance without her
knowledge. I waited until she had said all she could think of, and then
calmly took up the right of a confessor, pointing out that she had
herself fallen into the same error in her youthful days; that the young
man had confessed to me that his views were honourable; but had not an
idea, at the time, that I was acquainted with the family. Donna Celia
then appeared to be more pacified, and asked many questions: all that
she seemed to object to, was the mystery about his family, which at her
request I promised to clear up before any other steps should be taken.
Cautioning her against any violence of language to her niece, I took my
leave. As I went out I spoke a few words to Clara, informing her of the
_dénouement_ which had taken place, and recommending her by no means to
irritate her aunt, but to be very penitent when she was reproved. Clara
obeyed my injunctions, and the next day, when I called, I found her
sitting by the side of Donna Celia, who was apparently reconciled. I
motioned Clara out of the room, when Donna Celia informed me that she
had acknowledged her error; and as she had promised for the future to be
regulated by her advice, she had overlooked her indiscretion. When she
had finished: "Prepare yourself, madam," said I, "for strange
tidings--the ways of Heaven are wonderful. Last evening I had an
explanation with the young cavalier, Don Pedro, and he proves to
be--that son whose loss you have so much lamented."

"Merciful heaven!" cried the old lady, and she fainted away. As soon as
she recovered, she cried out, "Oh where is he! bring him to me--let a
mother's eyes be blessed with his sight--let the yearnings of a mother's
heart be recompensed in his embraces--let the tears of affection be wept
upon his bosom."

"Calm yourself, my dear madam," replied I: "the proofs you have not yet
seen. First be satisfied, and then indulge in your delightful
anticipation. When I pressed Don Pedro upon the subject of his family, I
told him candidly that his only chance of success was unlimited
confidence: he acknowledged that he had been sent to the Asylum when an
infant, and that he did not know his parents; that the mystery and
consequent stigma on his birth had been a source of mortification to him
through life. I asked him if he knew his age, or had a copy of the
register of his reception. He took it out of a small cabinet; it was on
the 18th of February, in the same year that your child was sent there.
Still as I was not sure, I stated that I would call upon him this
morning, and see what could be done; assuring him that his candid avowal
had created strong interest in his favour. This morning I repaired to
the Asylum, when I examined the register. Two children were brought in
on that night: here is the extract, and I feel much mortified, as you
will observe, that no marks are mentioned. If, therefore, the wart you
spoke of was not still remaining, the uncertainty would have been as
great as ever. When I returned to him about an hour since, I renewed the
subject, and stated that I thought it was the custom to make a note of
any particular marks upon the children, by which they might be
eventually reclaimed. He replied that it was customary when they were
indelible, but not otherwise: that he had no indelible mark, although a
large wart had been on the back of his neck as long as he could
remember; 'but,' added he, 'it is of no use,--all hopes of finding my
parents have long since been abandoned, and I must submit to my
unfortunate destiny. I have thought upon what has passed, and I feel
that I have acted wrong. Without family and without name, what right
have I to aspire to the hand of any young lady of good parentage? I have
made the resolution to conquer my feelings; and before the intimacy has
been carried on to an extent that a rupture would occasion any pangs to
her that I adore, I will retire from Seville, and lament in solitude my
unfortunate condition.'

"'Are you capable of making such a sacrifice, Don Pedro?' said I.--'I
am, Father Anselmo,' replied he: 'I will always act as a man of honour
and of family, although I cannot prove my descent.'

"'Then,' said I, 'Don Pedro, do me the favour to call upon me this
evening at my convent, and I hope to have some pleasing intelligence to
impart.' I then left him, to come here and acquaint you with the joyful
discovery."--"But why did you not bring him here immediately?" cried
Donna Celia.

"Madam, I have important duties at my convent which will occupy me with
the superior till late at night. These must be attended to; and it is
not impossible that the affairs of our convent may require my absence
for some time, as there are new leases of our lands to be granted, and I
have reason to expect that the superior may dispatch me on that
business. I will acquaint the young man with what has been discovered,
and will then send him to your arms; but it were advisable that you
allow a few hours to repose after the agitation which you have
undergone, and previous to the affecting scene that will naturally take
place. I wish I could be present; for it is not often, in this world,
that we can witness the best affections of the heart in their virtuous
action."

I then took my leave, requesting Donna Celia to inform her niece of the
circumstances, as I presumed there would now be no obstacle to the
mutual attachment of the young people.

My reason for an early departure was that I might arrange the story I
should tell, when, as Don Pedro, my new mother would demand from me the
events of my life. I had also to request leave of absence, which I
obtained in expectation of some property being left to the convent by an
elderly gentleman residing at Alicant, who was expected to die, and from
whom I produced a letter, requesting my presence. As I was on the best
terms with the superior, and there was a prospect of obtaining money,
his consent was given. That I should be there in time, I was permitted
to depart that evening. I took my leave of the superior, and the rest of
the monks, intending never to return, and hastened to my lodgings, where
I threw off my monastic habit, which from that hour has never been
resumed. I repaired to Donna Celia's house, was admitted and ushered
into a room to await her arrival. My person had been set off to the best
advantage. I had put on a new wig, a splendid velvet cloak, silk doublet
and hose; and as I surveyed myself for a second or two in the mirror, I
felt the impossibility of recognition, mingled with pride at my handsome
contour. The door opened, and Donna Celia came in, trembling with
anxiety. I threw myself on my knees, and in a voice apparently choked
with emotion, demanded her blessing. She tottered to the sofa
overpowered by her feelings; and still remaining on my knees, I seized
her hand, which I covered with kisses.

"It is--it is my child," cried she at last; "all powerful nature would
have told me so, if it had not been proved," and she threw her arms
round my neck, as she bent over me and shed tears of gratitude and
delight. I do assure your highness that I caught the infection, and
mingled my tears with hers; for I felt then, and I even now firmly
believe, that I was her son. Although my conscience for a moment
upbraided me, during a scene which brought back virtuous feelings to my
breast, I could not but consider, that a deception which could produce
so much delight and joy, was almost pardonable. I took my seat beside
her, and she kissed me again and again, as one minute she would hold me
off to look at me, and the next strain me in her embraces.

"You are the image of your father, Pedro," observed she, mournfully,
"but God's will be done. If he has taken away, he also hath given, and
truly grateful am I for his bounty." When we had in some degree
recovered our agitation, I entreated her to narrate to me the history of
my father of which I had heard but little from the good brother Anselmo,
and she repeated to me those events of her youthful days which she had
communicated before.

"But you have not been introduced to Clara: the naughty girl little
thought that she was carrying on an amour with her own cousin."

When Donna Celia called her down, I made no scruple of pressing the dear
girl to my heart, and implanting a kiss upon her lips: with our eyes
beaming with love and joy, we sat down upon the sofa, I in the centre,
with a hand locked in the hand of each. "And now, my dear Pedro, I am
anxious to hear the narrative of your life," said Donna Celia: "that it
has been honourable to yourself, I feel convinced." Thanking her for her
good opinion, which I hoped neither what had passed, or might in future
occur, would be the means of removing, I commenced the history of my
life in the following words.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Commenced the history of your life?" interrupted the pacha. "Does the
slave laugh at our beards? What then is all this you have been telling
us?"

"The truth, your highness," replied the Spaniard. "What I am about to
tell, is the history of my life, which I invented to deceive the old
lady Donna Celia, and which is all false."

"I understand, Mustapha, this kafir is a regular Kessehgou,[3] he makes
one story breed another; but it is late, see that he attends to-morrow
afternoon, Bero! Go, infidel, the muezzin calls to prayers."

  [3] Eastern story-teller.

The Spaniard quitted the sublime presence, and in obedience to the call
of the muezzin, the pacha and Mustapha paid their customary evening
devotions--to the bottle.




Chapter IV


The next day the Spanish slave was summoned to continue his narrative.

"Your sublime highness of course recollects where I lest off yesterday
evening," commenced the slave.

"Perfectly well," replied the pacha, "you left off at the beginning of
your story; but I hope you will finish it this evening, as I have
already forgotten a great deal of what you said."

"Your highness may recollect that I was seated--"

"Yes, in our presence," interrupted the pacha; "such was our
condescension to a Giaour. Now go on with your story."

"With due submission to your highness, I was seated on a sofa, between
my mother Donna Celia and my mistress Donna Clara."

"Very true; I recollect now that you were."

"A hand clasped in the hand of each."

"Exactly," replied the pacha, impatiently.

"And was about to tell a story of my own invention, to deceive the old
lady my mother."

"Anna Senna! curses on your mother!" cried the pacha, in an angry tone.
"Sit down and continue your story. Is a pacha nothing? Is the lion to be
chafed by a jackall? Wallah le Nebi! By God and the Prophet! do you
laugh at our beard? The story!"

"The story requested by your highness," replied the slave, with great
coolness, "was commenced in the following words."



STORY OF THE MONK.

What occurred during my infancy, my dearest mother, I do not recollect;
but I can retrace to the age of seven years, when I found myself in
company with a number of others, from the squalling infant of a few days
old, up to about my own age. I also recollect that our fare was
indifferent, and our punishment severe.

"Poor child!" exclaimed Donna Celia, pressing my hand which was still
locked in hers. I continued there until the age of ten, when an old lady
who came to the Asylum, took a fancy to me; for I often heard it
remarked, that I was a very handsome boy, although I have rather grown
out of my good looks lately, Clara.

A pressure of my other hand, and a negative smile, was the answer; and I
proceeded--

The old lady Donna Isabella, who was of the noble family of Guzman,
wanted a page, and intended to bring me up in that capacity. She carried
me to her house, where I was clad in a fancy dress. I used to sit by her
side on the carpet, and run upon any message which might be required; in
fact, I was a sort of human bell, calling up every body and fetching
every thing that was wanted; but I was well fed, and very proud of a
little dagger which I wore in my girdle. The only part of my education
to which I objected, was learning to read and write from a priest, who
was domiciled in the family, and who had himself as great an aversion to
teaching as I had to learning. Had the affair rested entirely between
us, we might have arranged matters so as to please both parties; but as
the old lady used to prove my acquirements by making me read to her, as
she knotted, we neither of us could help fulfilling our engagements. By
dint of bullying and beating, at last I was sufficiently enlightened to
be able to read a romance to my mistress, or answer an invitation-note
in the negative or affirmative. My mistress had two nieces who lived
with her, both nearly grown up when I entered the family. They taught me
dancing for their own amusement, as well as many other things, and by
their care I improved very much, even in reading and writing. Although a
child, I had a pleasure in being taught by two pretty girls. But it is
necessary that I should be more particular in my description of these
two young ladies. The eldest, whose name was Donna Emilia, was of a
prudent, sedate description, always cheerful, but never boisterous; she
constantly smiled, but seldom, if ever, indulged in a laugh. The
youngest, Donna Teresa, was very different--joyous and light-hearted,
frank and confiding in her temper, generous in disposition: her faults
arose from an excess of every feeling--a continual running into
extremes. Never were two sisters more fond of each other: it appeared as
if the difference between their dispositions but added to their
attachment. The serious character of the elder was roused to playfulness
by the vivacity of the younger, and the extravagance of the younger was
kept in due bounds by the prudence of the elder. As a child I liked
Donna Emilia, but I was devotedly fond of Donna Teresa.

I had been three years in this situation, when legal business required
the presence of Donna Isabella at Madrid. The young ladies, who were
both very handsome, and remarkably like each other in person, were much
admired by the cavaliers. Two had gained the victory over the rival
candidates--Don Perez was the favoured suitor of Donna Emilia, while Don
Florez was proud to wear the chains of the lively Teresa. Donna Isabella
had, however, no intention that her nieces should quit her for the
present, and aware, by the serenading which took place every night, that
there were pretenders to her nieces' smiles, she hastened back to
Seville sooner than she had intended.

Although I had not been trusted by either, I had an idea of what was
going on; but with more prudence than most boys of my age, I made no
remarks either to my mistress or to the young ladies. We had returned to
Seville about a month, when Donna Emilia called me aside, and said,
"Pedro, can you keep a secret?"

I told her--"Yes, if I was paid for it."

"And what do you want to induce you to keep it, you little miser?"

I replied--"From her, only a kiss."

She called me a little rogue, gave me the kiss, and then told me, that a
cavalier would be under the window a little after vesper bell, and that
I must give him a billet, which she put into my hand. Of course, having
received my payment before hand, I consented. At the time mentioned I
looked out of the gate, and perceiving a cavalier under the window, I
accosted him, "What ho, Senor, what is it you expect from a fair lady?"

"A billet, my little page," replied he.

"Then here you have it," replied I, pulling it out of my vest. He put a
doubloon in my hand, and immediately disappeared.

I liked the gold very much, but I preferred the other payment more. I
put the money into my pocket, and returned into the house. I had hardly
come into the hall, when Donna Teresa, the other young lady, accosted
me. "Pedro, I have been looking for you--can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, if I am paid for it," replied I, as before.

"And what must it be that will keep that little tongue of yours from
chattering?"

"From you," replied I, "it must be a kiss."

"Oh! you little mannikin--I'll give you twenty;" and she did so, until
she almost took away my breath. "And now," said she, "there is a senor
waiting below for a note, which you must take him." I took the note, and
when I came to the gate, found a cavalier there, as she had mentioned.
"Oh, Senor," said I, "what are you waiting for, is it a billet-doux from
a sweet lady?"

"It is, my pretty boy," answered he.

"Perhaps this will interest you," replied I, handing him the note. He
snatched it from me, and would have departed. "Senor," said I, "I cannot
allow my mistress to be affronted. Her favours are beyond all price, but
still they are always coupled with gold. Since you are so poor, and gold
must pass, here is a piece for you," and I offered him the doubloon
which I had received from the other cavalier.

"You are a witty boy," replied he, "and have corrected my negligence,
for it was nothing more, I assure you. Add this to the other,"--and he
put a quarter-doubloon in my hand and disappeared. I returned to the
house, and as I had been some time away from my mistress I went into
the saloon--where she was sitting alone.

"Pedro, come hither, child, you know how good I have been to you, and
how carefully I have brought you up. Now tell me, can you keep a
secret?"--"Yes, madam," replied I, "I can keep yours, for it is my
duty."

"That's a good child; well then, I have an idea that my two nieces are
followed by some of the gay cavaliers, who saw them at Madrid, and I
wish you to find out if it is true.--Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, madam," replied I; "I do perfectly."

"Well then, do you watch,--and Pedro, here are two reals for you, to buy
sugar-plums."

Thus did I enter in one day into the real occupation of a page. I added
the two reals to the gold, and, as you may suppose, meant to serve as I
was paid. But, as I found out afterwards, I had made a terrible mistake
with the two billets-doux. That of Donna Emilia I had given to Don
Florez, who was Donna Teresa's admirer; that of Donna Teresa I had given
to Don Perez, who was the lover of Donna Emilia; but I had better
explain to you, before I go on, what did not come to my knowledge until
the _dénouement_ took place. Don Perez, the lover of Emilia, was a young
man who was entitled to large property, at the death of an uncle, to
whom he was heir by entail. Don Florez, on the contrary, was in
possession of a splendid fortune, and able to choose for himself. From
fear of discovery, the notes were both in a disguised hand, and not
signed by the respective Christian names of the ladies. Donna Emilia's
ran thus:--"I found your note in the spot agreed, but my aunt has taken
away the key of the shrubbery, and is I believe suspicious.--Why are you
so urgent?--I trust your affection, like mine, will but increase from
delay. It will be impossible to meet you to-night; but I have entered
the page in my service, and will write soon." That of Donna Teresa,
which I put in the hands of Don Perez, ran as follows:--"I can no longer
refuse your solicitations for an interview. My aunt has locked up the
shrubbery, but if you have courage enough to scale the garden-wall, I
will meet you in the saloon which opens upon the garden; but not a word
must be said, as the servants are continually passing the door--neither
can we have a light--I must trust to your honour."

Don Perez was delighted at Donna Emilia's having at last yielded to his
entreaties for a meeting; and Don Florez, as much annoyed at the
reserved conduct of his mistress, went home accusing her of coquetry. At
the appointed hour, Don Perez met his supposed mistress in the saloon.
The two sisters were confidantes, and as I was in their secret, they
made no scruple of talking before me. The next day, when their aunt left
the room, they began arguing upon the personal merits of the respective
cavaliers. After a good-humoured controversy, they appealed to me.
"Come, Pedro," said Teresa, "you shall decide.--Which do you think the
handsomest cavalier?"

"Why," answered I, "I think that your senor is, for a fair man, the
handsomest I ever saw--but still the beautiful dark eyes of the Donna
Emilia's cavalier are equally prepossessing."

"Why Pedro, you have mistaken the two," said Emilia, "it is Don Perez,
the fair one, who is my admirer, and the dark senor is Don Florez, who
is in love with my sister." I perceived that I had made a mistake when I
delivered the notes, and Teresa coloured up. But I had sense enough to
answer--"Very true, madam, you are right, I now recollect that I am
confounding the two."

Shortly afterwards the aunt came into the room, and Teresa quitted it,
beckoning me to follow her. As soon as I had joined her, she said, "Now,
Pedro, tell the truth: did you not make the mistake that you stated, and
deliver my note to the fair cavalier, Don Perez."

I answered, "that I had, as I had already delivered Emilia's note to the
dark gentleman." Donna Teresa put her hands over her face and wept
bitterly,--"Pedro, you must now keep this secret, for it is of the
greatest importance.--My God, what will become of me?" cried she, and
for some time she was in the greatest distress: at last she wiped her
eyes, and after much reflection, she took up paper and wrote a
note.--"Pedro, take this note to the direction; recollect it is for the
dark cavalier that it is intended." Teresa had read the note of Emilia
to Don Perez, which had been received by Don Florez--in consequence her
present note ran thus:--"You may think me harsh for having refused to
see you last night, but I was afraid. Do not accuse me with trifling
with your feelings, I will meet you in the saloon that leads to the
garden, which was last night occupied; come at ten this evening."

I went out with the note and gave it into the hands of Don Florez. "My
dear boy, tell Donna Teresa I will not fail; I know now why she could
not receive me last night; I only hope I may be as fortunate as Don
Perez." He put a doubloon in my hand, and I went away. I had not quitted
the street when I met Don Perez.

"Ah! my little page, this is indeed lucky; just step to my rooms while I
write a note to Donna Emilia." I did so, and he gave me a
quarter-doubloon as before. "I thank you, senor," replied I; what with
the doubloons of Don Florez and your quarter-doubloons, I shall soon be
a rich man."

"How say you," replied he, "Don Florez give you doubloons--then he
spoils the market; but I must not allow him to pay you better than I do,
or I shall not be served so faithfully.--Here's a doubloon and a half,
which, with what you have already received, will make the accounts
square." I made my bow, and with many thanks withdrew.

Young as I was, I had an idea that something had occurred at the
mistaken meeting of last night, which seriously affected Donna Teresa.
As I was much more partial to her than to her sister, I resolved not to
deliver the note of Don Perez to Emilia, until I had consulted Donna
Teresa. On my return, I beckoned her into her chamber, and told her the
answer of Don Florez, with his observation, "that he hoped he should be
as fortunate as Don Perez was last night." She coloured with shame and
vexation; and I then told her how I had met Don Perez, and what had
passed. I then gave her the note, and asked whether I should deliver it
or not. She hastily tore it open--it ran as follows:--"How can I
sufficiently express my gratitude to my adored Emilia, for her kindness
to me last night? Tell me, dearest angel, when am I to have the pleasure
of meeting you again in the saloon? Till you once more grant me the
favour, life will be a blank."

"Pedro," said she, "you have indeed done me a service--you have been my
preserver. How can I ever repay you?"

"Give me a double allowance of kisses, this time," replied I.

"I will give you a thousand," answered she, and she kissed and blessed
me while tears ran down her cheeks; she then took some paper, and
imitating the hand-writing, wrote as follows:--"I must submit to your
wishes, Donna Emilia; and while your sister blesses Don Florez, must
yield to the severity of your disposition. Still I hope that you will
relent--I am very miserable; write to me, if you have any love still
remaining for your adorer.----Perez."

"Take this to Emilia, my sweet child.--What can I do to reward you?"

"Why you must take care of my money," said I, "for if my mistress finds
it out, I shall never be able to tell how I came by it." She smiled
mournfully as she received my doubloons, and locked them up in a
trinket-box. "I will add to your wealth, Pedro," said she.

"No," replied I, "only kisses from you." I told her why her aunt gave me
the two reals, and we separated. I delivered the note to Donna Emilia,
who in the afternoon put an answer into my hand; but I would not act
without Donna Teresa knowing what took place, and it occurred to me,
that it would be very possible to repair the mischief, which my mistake
had occasioned. I therefore took the answers of Donna Emilia to her
lover to Donna Teresa, and told her what I thought, "My dear Pedro, you
are indeed a treasure to me," replied Teresa.

She opened Emilia's note, which ran as follows:--"You accuse me of
unkindness, which I do not deserve. Heaven knows my heart is but too
yielding. I will arrange a meeting as soon as I possibly can; but as I
before said, my aunt is suspicious, and I cannot make up my mind, like
Teresa, to run the risk of discovery."

Teresa tore up this note, and wrote as follows:--"If a woman has the
misfortune to yield too much to the solicitations of her lover, he
becomes arrogant, and claims as a right, what only can be received as a
favour. I consider that what passes in darkness should remain as secret
in the breast, and as silent in the tongue. I now tell you candidly,
that I shall consider it as an insult, if ever you refer to the meeting
of last night; and to punish you for your arrogant request of another,
shall treat you with the same reserve as before. Recollect that the
least intimation of it, however private we may be, will be the signal of
your dismissal. At the same time, expecting implicit obedience to this
command, I shall punish you no further, if you offend not again. When I
feel inclined to see you, I will let you know. Till then, Yours, etc."

I took this note to Don Perez, whom I found at his lodgings drinking in
company with Don Florez, for they had no secrets from each other. Perez
opened the note, and appeared a little astonished.--"Read this, Florez,"
said he, "and tell me if woman is not a riddle."

"Well, now I like her spirit," replied Florez, "some women would have
been dying with apprehension at your leaving them: she, on the contrary,
considers that you are under greater obligations than before; and
assumes her dominion over you. I recommend you to comply with her
injunctions, if you wish to retain her love."

"I don't know but what you are right, Florez; and as we are lords and
masters after marriage, it is but fair, that they should hold their
uninterrupted sway before. I feel more attached to her than ever, and if
she chooses to play the tyrant, why she shall. It shows her good sense;
for keeping us off, is the only way to induce us to go on."

I returned home, delivering a note from Don Perez to Emilia, stating his
intention to abide by her wishes, and stated to Donna Teresa all that
had passed between the cavaliers.

"Thanks to your prudence and sagacity, my dear little Pedro, all as yet
is well; but it may yet be discovered; for I will now confide to you,
that the tenderness last night, intended for Don Florez, was by your
mistake, and the darkness and silence prescribed at the meeting,
lavished upon my sister's admirer. But all will I trust be well, and I
shall not suffer for an unintentional misfortune."

That evening Don Florez was received by Teresa in the saloon; and the
next morning, I was sitting as usual by my mistress, when she asked,
"Well, Pedro, have you discovered anything?"

"Yes, madam," replied I.

"And what is it, child?"

"Why, madam, a gentleman asked me to give a letter, but I would not."

"Who was it for, child?"

"I don't know, madam, for I refused to take it in my hand."

"Well, Pedro, you were right; the next time he offers you a letter take
it, and bring it to me."

"I will, madam," said I.

"Here are two reals for you, child--have you spent the last I gave you?"

I left the room--when Donna Emilia met me outside, and put a note into
my hand for Don Perez. I first took it to my friend Teresa, who opened
it:--"At last my affection has borne down my resolution, and I consent
to see you. There is no other way but in the saloon. Be careful not to
offend me, or it will be for the last time."

"This may go, Pedro," said Teresa, "and you may call at Don Florez'
lodgings as you pass by."

I delivered the note to Don Perez, and before he had finished it, Don
Florez entered the room.--"Congratulate me, my dear friend," said he. "I
was received as kindly as I could wish."

"And my fair one has not taken long to relent," answered Perez, "for I
have an appointment with her this evening. Pedro, tell your mistress,
that I do not write, but that I bless her for her kindness, and shall
not fail to meet her.--Do you understand? Well, what are you waiting
for? Oh! you little rogue, I understand," and he threw me a
doubloon.--"Florez, you give that boy too much money, and I am obliged
to do the same." Florez laughed, and I again took my departure.

Thus did I continue in my vocation for some time, when the old lady fell
sick and died. She divided her fortune between her two nieces, and as
they were now independent, they married their respective lovers; but the
old lady forgot to mention me in her will, and I should have been turned
adrift on the world had it not been for Donna Teresa, who immediately
appointed me as her own attendant. I was as happy as before, although no
more doubloons fell into my hands, after the marriages took place. It
appears that Don Perez was so much afraid of offending Donna Emilia,
that he never ventured to speak of the meeting, which he supposed he had
had with her in the saloon, until after marriage: then, feeling himself
quite at liberty, he had laughed at her on the subject. Donna Emilia was
all astonishment, declared most positively that it had not taken place;
and although he at first ridiculed the idea of her denial, yet
recollecting that he still had her notes in his possession, he brought
them out, and showed her the one in which she had prohibited him from
speaking on the subject. Donna Emilia protested that it was not her
writing, and was confounded at the apparent mystery. She stated that
Teresa had agreed to meet Don Florez in the saloon that night.

"On the contrary," replied Don Perez, "he received a letter from Donna
Teresa, refusing him a meeting, at the same time that I received this
from you, giving me the assignation."

Donna Emilia burst into tears. "I see how it is," replied she, "the page
by mistake has given the note which I wrote you to Don Florez, and
Teresa's note fell into your hands. You have taken an unworthy advantage
of the circumstance, and have met my sister. Never make me believe, Don
Perez, that you were not aware of the mistake, when she received you in
the saloon--or that she could not distinguish you from Don Florez. Cruel
sister, thus to rob me of my happiness! Treacherous Don Perez, thus to
betray your friend and me!"

Don Perez tried all he could to pacify his wife, but in vain. Her
jealousy, her pride, and her conscientious scruples were roused, and she
would not listen to any reasoning or protestations. Although he was
almost certain, that the fact was as his wife had stated, he determined
to make sure by referring to me. He came to Don Florez' house, and after
staying a little while with him and his wife, during which he appeared
so uneasy that they asked him whether he was unwell, he went away making
a sign for me to follow him. He then entered into all the particulars,
and asked me about the delivery of the notes. I took it for granted,
that an explanation had taken place between him and his wife--my only
object was to save Donna Teresa.

"Senor, whether what Donna Emilia says is true, I know not," replied I;
"but, that it was not Donna Teresa who met you, I can certify, for I was
in her room with her that night till she went to bed, playing at piquet
for sugar-plums."

"Then who could it be," observed he.

"I know not, senor, for I did not go downstairs, where my mistress was,
because she had sent me to bed, and I knew that I should have been
scolded for being up. Therefore I cannot say whether Donna Emilia was
with you or not."

Don Perez meditated some time, and then came to the conclusion that his
wife was ashamed of having been too indulgent to him in an unguarded
moment, and would not acknowledge it. Still he was far from being
satisfied. He returned home to explain what he had gathered to his wife,
but found that she had left the house some time before, without stating
whither she was going. As soon as Don Perez left the house, I hastened
to my mistress, to acquaint her with what had passed, and what I had
told him.

"I thank you for your kind intention, Pedro, but I am afraid that all
will be discovered. It is a judgment on me for my folly and
indiscretion."

In the meantime, Donna Emilia, who had taken refuge in a neighbouring
convent, sent for Don Florez. He found her in the convent-parlour in
tears. Convinced by her jealousy, that her sister had an attachment to
Don Perez, and that there had been a mutual understanding, she stated to
Don Florez the whole of the circumstances, and pointing out to him how
treacherously they both had been treated, acquainted him with her
intention to retire from the world.

Don Florez, stirred to madness by the information, exclaimed--"It was
for this, then, that she put me off on that night, and was kind to me
the next. Cursed dupe that I have been; but, thank heaven, it is not too
late to be revenged. Don Perez, you shall pay dearly for this." So
saying, he quitted Donna Emilia, uncertain whether he should first wreak
his vengeance upon Don Perez or his wife. But this point was soon
decided, for at the convent gate he encountered Don Perez, who had been
informed whither his wife had retreated.

"You are the person I have been anxiously wishing to see, Don
Perez--treacherous villain, void of all honour."

"Not so, Don Florez. I am an unfortunate man, who is half mad by a
cruel mistake which has occurred. Recall your words, for they are
unjust."

"I do not intend to recall them, but assert the truth with the point of
my rapier. If you are not as great a coward, as you are a villain, you
will follow me."

"Such language will admit of no reply. I am at your service," cried Don
Perez.

The two brothers-in-law walked in silence, until they reached a field
hard by, where they threw off their cloaks, and fought with the fury of
demons. Victory was decided in favour of Don Perez; his sword passed
through the heart of his adversary, who never spoke again. Don Perez
viewed the body with a stern countenance, wiped his sword, took up his
cloak, and walked straight to the house of Don Florez. "Donna Teresa,"
said he (I only was present), "I call upon you, as you value salvation
in the day of judgment, to tell me the truth. Was it you, that, by an
unfortunate mistake, I met one night in the saloon, and were those
caresses, intended for Don Florez, bestowed upon me?"

There was a wildness, a ferocity in his air that frightened her; she
stammered out at last--"for my sins, it is true; but you know, too well,
that I never was false in heart, although when I found out my mistake, I
attempted to conceal my indiscretion."

"Had you, madam, been as virtuous as your sister, all this mischief
would not have happened--and your husband would not now be lying a
corpse, by the hand of his brother."

Donna Teresa fainted at the intelligence, and Don Perez immediately
quitted the house. I hastened to her assistance, and succeeded in
restoring her to life.

"It is but too true," said she, mournfully; "crime will always meet with
punishment, in this world, or in the next. By permitting my love to
overcome the dictates of virtue, by being too fond of my husband, I have
murdered him. Oh God! I have murdered him, and rendered the lives of two
others as much a burden to them as my own will ever be. My poor, dear
sister, where is she?"

I tried all my powers of consolation, but in vain: all she requested
was that I would find out where her sister was, and let her know. I set
off upon my melancholy task, and met the people bearing in the body of
Don Florez. I shuddered as it passed by, when I recollected how
principal a part I had acted in the tragedy. I soon gained the
information, and brought it to Donna Teresa. She dressed herself in deep
mourning, and, desiring me to follow her, knocked at the convent gate,
and requesting to see the superior, was admitted. The superior came out
of the parlour to receive her, not wishing that any one should enter,
while Donna Emilia was in such a state of misery and despair.

"It is my sister that I come to see, madam, and I must not be refused;
lead me to her, and be witness of the scene, if you please."

The superior, who was not aware that Emilia would have refused to see
Donna Teresa, led the way, and we were ushered into the presence of
Emilia, who, looking up as Donna Teresa entered, turned away from her as
if in abhorrence.

"Emilia," said my mistress, "we are born of the same mother, we have
lived as children, and we have grown up together; never did we have a
secret from each other, till this unfortunate mistake occurred. On my
knees, I request you to listen to me, and to believe what I say."

"Plead your cause with your husband, Teresa; it is more necessary to
pacify him than me."

"I have no husband, Emilia; he is now pleading his own cause with
God--for he has fallen by the sword of yours."

Donna Emilia started.

"Yes, Emilia, dear, dear sister, it is but too true, and still more
true, that you have caused his death. Do not kill me too, Emilia, by
refusing to believe what I declare, as I hope for eternal
salvation,--that I never was aware of the mistake, until the boy
discovered it to me, on the ensuing day. If you knew the shame, the
vexation, the fear of discovery which racked my frame, when I was but
too sure of it, you would forgive my having tried to hide a fault, the
knowledge of which would make others miserable, as well as me. Say you
believe me--say you forgive me, Emilia. Oh! Emilia, cannot you forgive a
sister?"

Emilia answered not, and Teresa, clinging to her knees, and embracing
them, sobbed hysterically. At this moment, Don Perez, who had obtained
admittance to see his wife, came into the room, and walking up to the
part in which the two unfortunate ladies remained in the attitudes
described, said,--"You, Teresa, who have been the original cause of this
unhappy business, I mean not to reproach again. Your punishment has been
greater than your offence. It is to you, madam, I must address myself,
who, by not believing in the words of truth, have caused me to slay my
dearest friend and brother, and, after having unwittingly wounded him in
the tenderest point, add to the injury by taking away his life. Are you
yet satisfied, madam? Are you satisfied with having embittered my days
by your injustice and unworthy suspicions--by having reduced your
unfortunate, yet not guilty sister, to the state of an unhappy, lonely
woman, now suing in vain for pardon at your feet; by having been the
occasion of the death of your brother by marriage--her husband and my
friend? Say, madam, are you yet satisfied, or will you have more victims
to your unbelief?"

Emilia answered not, but continued with her face averted.

"Be it so, then, madam;" replied Don Perez; and, before any one was
aware of his intention, he drew his sword, and fell upon it. "Now,
Emilia, let the sacrifice of my life be a proof to you of my sincerity.
As I hope for pardon, I have told the truth;" and Don Perez fell on his
back, and was dead.

Emilia started round when he fell, and threw herself down by his side in
horror and amazement. The film that passion had thrown over her eyes was
removed, as she witnessed the last melancholy result of her unbelief.
When Don Perez ceased speaking, she threw herself on his body, in an
agony of grief.--"I do, I do believe--Perez, I do, I do! Oh! indeed I do
believe--speak to me, Perez--O God, he is dying!--Sister, Teresa, come,
come, he'll speak to you--he's not angry with you--Sister, sister,
speak--O God! O God!" screamed the unhappy woman, "he's dead--and I have
murdered him!"--and she dashed her head upon the floor. Teresa hastened
to her sister, and held her in her arms, while the tears poured fast. It
was some time before reason resumed her seat; at last, exhausted by the
violence of her feelings, she was relieved with a flood of tears.

"Who is it?--you, Teresa--kind sister, whom I have used so ill--I do
believe you--I do believe, Teresa; God forgive me! kiss me, sister, and
say that you forgive me--for am I not punished?"

"It is all my fault," answered Teresa, bursting into tears: "Oh! how
wicked, how foolish have I been!"

"No, no, sister, your fault is small, compared to mine; you allowed your
passion to overcome you, but it arose from an excess of love, the best
feeling in our nature--the only remnant of heaven left us since our
fall. I too have allowed my passion to overcome me; but whence has it
arisen?--from hatred and jealousy, feelings which were implanted by
demons, and which create a hell, wherever they command. But it is done,
and repentance comes too late."

The unfortunate sisters embraced each other and mingled their tears
together; and I hardly need say, that the Lady Abbess and I could not
restrain our meed of pity at the affecting scene. As the evening closed,
they separated, each to attend to the same mournful duty, of watching by
the bodies of their husbands, and bedewing them with their tears. A few
days after the interments took place, Emilia sent for her sister, and
after an affectionate interview, took the veil in the convent to which
she had retired--endowing the church with her property. Donna Teresa did
not take the veil; but employed herself in the more active duties of
charity and benevolence--but she gradually wasted away--her heart was
broken. I stayed with her for three years, when she died, leaving a
considerable sum to me, and the remainder of her wealth to beneficent
institutions. This is about five years ago, since when I have been
living on the property, which is nearly all expended by my extravagance.
The stigma on my birth is, however, the only subject which has weighed
upon my spirits--this is providentially removed, and I trust that I
shall not disgrace the mother who has so kindly acknowledged me, or the
dear girl who has honoured this faulty person with her attachment.

       *       *       *       *       *

My mother and Clara thanked me when I had concluded my narrative, and we
remained unto a late hour entering upon family affairs, and planning for
the future. My mother informed me that upon the estates she had only a
life interest, as they were entailed, and would revert to a cousin; but
that she had laid by a considerable sum of money, intending it as a
dowry for my Clara, and that she hoped to increase it before she died.
As I was anxious to quit Seville, where I feared daily discovery, I
proposed that we should retire to the estate near Carthagena, by which
not only a considerable expense would be saved, but I should feel more
happy in the company of Clara and herself. My mother and my intended
gladly consented to the proposal, not only for the above reasons, but
because she was aware that the questions which might be asked about me
would tend to the injury of her character. In less than a fortnight the
establishment at Seville was broken up, and we retired to the country,
where I was made happy by the possession of my Clara. I now considered
myself as secure from any discovery, and although I had led a life of
duplicity, meant by future good conduct to atone for the past. Whether
Donna Celia was my mother or not, I felt towards her as if she was, and
after some time from habit considered it an established fact. My Clara
was as kind and endearing as I could desire, and for five years I was as
happy as I could wish. But it was not to last; I was to be punished for
my deceit. My marriage with Clara, and the mystery attached to my
birth, which was kept secret, had irritated the heir of the estate, who
had been in hopes, by marrying Clara himself, to secure the personal as
well as the real property. We occasionally met, but we met with rancour
in our hearts, for I resented his behaviour towards me. Fearful of
discovery, I had never paid any attention to music since my marriage; I
had always pretended that I could not sing. Even my wife was not aware
of my talent; and although latterly I had no fear of the kind, yet as I
had always stated my inability, I did not choose to bring forth a
talent, the reason for concealing which I could not explain even to my
wife and mother, without acknowledging the deception of which I had been
guilty.

It happened that one evening at a large party I met my cousin, the heir
of the entailed estates. We were very joyous and merry, and had drunk a
good deal more than usual. The wine was powerful, and had taken effect
upon most of us. Singing was introduced, and the night passed merrily
away, more visitors occasionally dropping in. My cousin was much elated
with wine, and made several ill-natured remarks, which were meant for
me. I took no notice for some time, but, as he continued, I answered
with such spirit, as to arouse his indignation. My own blood boiled; but
the interference of mutual friends pacified us for the time, and we
renewed our applications to the bottle. My cousin was called upon for a
song; he had a fine voice and considerable execution, and was much
applauded.

"Now, then," said he, in an ironical tone, "perhaps Don Pedro will
oblige the company; although perhaps the real way to oblige them will be
by not attempting that of which he is not capable."

Stung with this sarcasm, and flushed with wine, I forgot my prudence.
Snatching the guitar from him, after a prelude which created the
greatest astonishment of all present, I commenced one of my most
successful airs: I sang it in my best style, and it electrified the
whole party. Shouts proclaimed my victory, and the defeat of my
relative. Some embraced me in their enthusiasm, and all loudly encored;
but as soon as there was a moment's silence, I heard a voice behind me
observe--"Either that is the monk Anselmo's voice, or the devil's."

I started at the words, and turned round to the speaker, but he had
mingled with the crowd, and I could not discover who it was. I perceived
that my relative had followed him on; and I now cursed my own
imprudence. As soon as I could, I made my escape from the company, and
returned home. As I afterwards found out, my relative had immediately
communicated with the person who had made the observation. He was one of
the priests who knew me at Seville. From him, my cousin gained the
information that brother Anselmo had left the convent about five years
ago, and not having returned, it was thought that an accident had
happened to him. But a discovery had since been made, which led them to
suppose, that brother Anselmo had, for some time, been carrying on a
system of deception. You may remember I stated, that when I resumed my
worldly apparel to introduce myself as the son of Donna Celia, I changed
the dress at my lodgings. I locked up my friar's dress and the false
tonsure in the chest, intending to have returned, and destroyed it; but
I quite forgot it, and left Seville with the key of my lodgings in my
pocket. The landlord waited until his rent was due, when, not hearing
anything of me, he broke open the door and found the chest. This he
opened, and discovered the false tonsure and friar's gown. Knowing the
monastic order to which it belonged, and suspecting some mischief, he
took it to our convent, and all the habits of the monks being numbered
in the inside, it was immediately recognised as mine: the false tonsure
also betrayed that I must have been breaking through the rules of my
order, and the most rigorous search after me was made for some time
without success. Possessed of this information, my vindictive relative
repaired to Seville to ascertain the exact date of my quitting the
convent, and found that it was about a fortnight previous to Donna
Celia having quitted Seville. He then repaired to the landlord for
further information. The landlord stated that the lodgings had been
taken by a monk, for his brother, who had occupied them. He described
the brother's person, which exactly corresponded with mine; and my
relation was convinced that the monk Anselmo and Don Pedro were one and
the same person. He immediately gave notice to the Inquisition. In the
mean time, I was in the greatest consternation. I felt that I should be
discovered, and reflected upon my conduct. I had lately abjured all
deceit, and had each day gained a step in the path of virtue. I
acknowledged with bitterness, that I deserved all that threatened me,
and that sooner or later, vice will meet with its reward. Had I at first
made known my situation to Donna Celia, she would have had interest
enough (believing me to be her son), to have obtained a dispensation of
my vows. I then might have boldly faced the world--but one act of
duplicity required another to support it, and thus had I entangled
myself in a snare, by which I was to be entrapped at last. But it was
not for myself that I cared; it was for my wife whom I doted on--for my
mother (or supposed mother), to whom it would be the bitterness of
death. The thoughts of rendering others miserable as well as myself
drove me to distraction--and how to act I knew not.

After much reflection, I resolved as a last resource, to throw myself
upon the generosity of my adversary; for although inimical to me, he
bore a high character as a Spanish cavalier. I desired to be informed
the moment that he returned from Seville; and when the intelligence
came, I immediately repaired to his house, and requested an audience. I
was admitted, when Don Alvarez, for that was his name, addressed me.

"You wish to speak with me, Don Pedro--there are others at your house by
this time, who wish to speak with you."

I guessed that he meant the officers of the Inquisition, but pretending
not to understand the remark, I answered him: "Don Alvarez, the enmity
that you have invariably shown towards me has, I am sure, proceeded
from the affront, which you consider that your noble family has
received, by your cousin having formed an alliance with one of unknown
parentage. I have long borne with your pointed insults, out of respect
for her who gave me birth; I am now about to throw myself upon your
generosity, and probably when I inform you, that I am the unhappy issue
of the early amour of Donna Celia (which of course you have heard of), I
may then claim your compassion, if not your friendship, from having at
least some of the same noble blood in my veins."

"I was not indeed aware of it," replied Don Alvarez, with agitation; "I
would to heaven you had confided in me before."

"Perhaps it would have been better," replied I, "but permit me to prove
my assertions." I then stated my having been the friar Anselmo, the
discovery of my birth by accident, and the steps which I had taken. "I
am aware," continued I, "that I have been much to blame, but my love for
Donna Clara made me regardless of consequences. Your unfortunate enmity
induced me, in an unguarded moment, to expose myself, and it will
probably end in my destruction."

"I acknowledge the truth of your remark, and that no power can save you.
I lament it, Don Pedro; but what is done cannot be undone. Even now the
officers of the Inquisition are at your house." As he uttered these
words, a loud knocking at the door announced that they had followed me.
"This must not be, Don Pedro," said Don Alvarez, "step this way." He
opened a panel, and desired me to go in--and he hardly had time to shut
it before the officers came into the room.

"You have him here, Don Alvarez, have you not?" inquired the chief.

"No, unfortunately," replied he, "I tried to detain him, but suspecting
some discovery he forced his way out, sword in hand, and has gone I do
not know in what direction; but he cannot be far--saddle all the horses
in my stable and pursue the sacrilegious wretch. I would sacrifice half
my worldly wealth, that he should not escape my vengeance."

As Don Alvarez was the informant, and uttered these words with the
apparent violence of rage, the inquisitors had no suspicion, but
hastened to comply with his request. As soon as they had departed, he
opened the panel and let me out.

"So far, Don Pedro, have I proved the sincerity of my assertion; but
now, what remains to be done?"

"But one thing, Don Alvarez, to conceal the truth from my poor wife and
mother. I could bear it all with firmness, but for them" (and I fell on
a sofa and burst into tears). Don Alvarez was much affected.

"Oh, Don Pedro! it is too late now, or I should say, 'What a warning
this ought to be to us--that honesty is the best policy!' Had you
communicated to me the mystery of your birth, this never would have
occurred. Instead of having been your persecutor, I should have been
your friend.--What can I do?"

"Kill me, Don Alvarez," replied I, baring my breast, "and I will bless
you for the deed. My death may afflict them, but they will recover from
their grief in time; but to know that I am murdered by the Inquisition,
as a sacrilegious impostor, will bring them to their grave with shame
and mortification."

"Your observation is correct, but kill you I must not. I will, however,
so far comply with your wishes, that I will bear the news of your death,
and their hatred of the deed, rather than the family should be
disgraced." He then went to his scrutoire, and taking out a bag of one
thousand pistoles--"This is all the money that I have at present--it
will serve you for some time. Put on one of my servant's dresses, and I
will accompany you to a seaport and secure your safety before I leave
you. I will then state, that I met you in a fair duel, and will bribe
the officers of the Inquisition to hold their tongues about the
circumstances which have been communicated."

The advice was good and I agreed to it; following him as a servant, I
arrived safely at Carthagena, whence I took a passage for New Spain. We
sailed, and before we were clear of the Straits of Gibraltar, we were
attacked by one of the cruisers of the state. We fought desperately, but
were overpowered by numbers, and they took possession after we had lost
more than half of our crew. They brought us into this port, where, with
the rest, I was sold as a slave.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Such is my history," ended the Spaniard, "which I trust has afforded
some amusement to your sublime highness."

The immediate answer of the pacha was a loud yawn.

"Shukur Allah! Praise be to God you have done talking. I do not
understand much about it," continued the pacha, turning round to
Mustapha, "but how can we expect a good story from an unbelieving dog of
a Christian?"

"Wallah Thaib! Well said, by God!" replied Mustapha; "who was Lokman,
that they talk of his wisdom? Are not these words of more value than
strung pearls?"

"What was the name of the country?" demanded the pacha.

"Spain, your sublime highness; the infidel tribes which you allow to
remain there, are employed in cultivating the olive for true believers."

"Very true," rejoined the pacha; "I remember now. Let the Kafir taste of
our bounty. Give him two pieces of gold, and allow him to depart."

"May the shadow of your sublime highness never be less," said the
Spaniard. "I have here a manuscript which I received from an ancient
monk of our order when at the point of death. At the time of my capture
it was thrown on one side, and I preserved it as curious. It refers to
the first discovery of an island. As your highness is pleased to be
amused with stories, it may be worth while to have it translated." The
Dominican then handed from his breast a discoloured piece of parchment.

"Very good," replied the pacha, rising. "Mustapha! let it be put into
Arabic by the Greek slave, who shall read it to us some evening when we
have no story-tellers."

"Be Chesm! Upon my eyes be it," replied Mustapha, bowing low, as the
pacha retired to his harem.




Chapter V


The pacha had repeated his perambulations for many nights, without
success; and Mustapha, who observed that he was becoming very impatient,
thought it advisable to cater for his amusement.

Among those who used to repair to Mustapha when he exercised his former
profession, was a French renegade, a man of considerable talent and
ready invention, but a most unprincipled scoundrel, who, previous to the
elevation of Mustapha, had gained his livelihood by daring piratical
attempts in an open boat. He was now in the employ of the vizier,
commanding an armed xebeque which the latter had purchased. She passed
off as a government cruiser, but was in reality a pirate. Selim, for
that was the name which the renegade had adopted when he abjured his
faith, condemned every vessel that had the misfortune to meet with him,
taking out the cargoes, burning the hull, and throwing the crews
overboard, with the privilege of swimming on shore if they could. By
this plan he avoided the inconveniences attending any appeals from the
jurisdiction of the High Court of Admiralty, which he had established
upon the seas.

The consequence was, that his cruises were more successful than ever,
and Mustapha, who was not content with pillaging the pacha's subjects on
dry land, was amassing a large fortune at their expense by his maritime
speculations.

Occasionally, bales or packages would be recognised when landed as
having the identical marks and numbers of those which had been shipped
from the quay but a fortnight before; but the renegade could always give
a satisfactory explanation to the vizier; and after a Jew, who could not
bear the idea of parting with his property without remonstrance, had
been impaled, people shrugged up their shoulders and said nothing.

Now it occurred to Mustapha, that Selim might be able to assist his
views. He talked fast and loud, vaunted his own exploits, curled his
whiskers as he swore to the most improbable assertions, and had become a
general nuisance and terror since he had obtained the vizier's
protection.

Mustapha sent for him, and, as a preliminary question, inquired if ever
he had read the Arabian Nights.

"Yes, vizier," replied the renegade; "many years before I turned Turk."

"Do you recollect the voyages of Sindbad the Sailor?"

"To be sure I do; he is the only man that could ever hold a candle to me
in lying."

"Well, then, his highness the pacha delights in such stories; and it is
my wish that you prepare to recount your own voyages, as Sindbad has
done before you."

"But what am I to get for it?"

"My good-will and protection; besides which, his highness, if pleased,
will not fail to order you a handsome present."

"Well," replied Selim, "any man who can produce gold in this world will
always be able to change it for base metal. I can coin lies in my mint
faster than he can coin sequins in his; and since you wish it, and say
that it will be profitable, why--I am very much at his service."

"Then, Selim, observe my directions, for every thing must appear
accidental."

In pursuance to the orders received from Mustapha, the renegade remained
that evening at the corner of a certain street, through which Mustapha
took care that the pacha should pass in his disguise. When he perceived
their approach, the renegade exclaimed. "Allah, Allah! when is the happy
time to come, promised in my seventh and last voyage?"

"Who are you, and why do you call upon Heaven for happy times?" inquired
the pacha.

"I am Huckaback the Sailor," replied the renegade, "who, after a life of
danger and disaster, am anxiously awaiting the fulfilment of a promise
from the Most High."

"I must see this man to-morrow," observed the pacha:--"Mustapha, as you
value your life, see that he attends."

The vizier bowed, and the pacha returned to the palace without further
adventure.

The next day, as soon as the business of the divan had closed, the
renegade was ordered in. Prostrating himself before the pacha, he then
rose, and, folding his arms over his breast, awaited his commands in
silence.

"I have sent for you, Huckaback, to inquire the meaning of the words you
made use of last night: and to know what was the promise made to you in
your seventh and last voyage; but I will thank you to begin at the
first, as I wish to hear the history of all your voyages."

"May it please you highness, as I live but to obey you, all that has
occurred in my eventful life shall, if you command it, be submitted to
your ear. It will, however, be necessary that I should revert to my
early days to enable your highness more fully to comprehend the whole."

"Aferin! well said," replied the pacha; "I don't care how long a story
it is, provided that it is a good one:" and Selim, having obeyed a sign
from his highness, intimating that he might sit down, commenced as
follows.



HUCKABACK.

I am a native of Marseilles, your highness, where I was brought up to
the profession of my father; a profession (continued the wily renegade),
which, I have no hesitation to assert, has produced more men of general
information, and more men of talent, than any other--I mean that of a
barber.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Wallah Thaib; well said, by Allah!" observed Mustapha.

The pacha nodded his approbation, and the renegade proceeded with his
story.

       *       *       *       *       *

I was gifted by nature with a ready invention, and some trouble and
expense were bestowed upon my education. To the profession of a barber,
my father added that of bleeding and tooth-drawing. At ten years old I
could cut hair pretty well. People did say, that those upon whom I had
operated, looked as if their heads had been gnawed by the rats; but it
was the remark of envy, and as my father observed, "there must be a
beginning to every thing."

At fifteen, I entered upon the rudiments of shaving; and after having
nearly ruined my father's credit, from the pounds of flesh which I
removed with the hair of my customers (who were again consoled by his
observing that "there must be a beginning to every thing"), I became
quite expert. I was subsequently initiated into the higher branches of
tooth-drawing and bleeding. In the former, at first I gave great
dissatisfaction, either from breaking the decayed tooth short off, and
leaving the stump in the socket, or from mistaking the one pointed out,
and drawing a sound engine of mastication in its stead. In the latter, I
made more serious mistakes, having more than once cut so deep as to open
the artery, while I missed the vein; in consequence of which I was never
afterwards employed, except by a husband to relieve a scolding wife, or
by nephews who were anxious about the health of an everlasting uncle.
But, as my father wisely observed, "there must be a beginning to
everything;" and, as I could only practise upon living subjects,
"individuals must suffer for the good of the community at large." At the
age of twenty I was an accomplished barber.

But rapid as was my career, I was not fated to continue in it long. Like
the shot propelled from the mouth of the cannon, which, in its extreme
velocity, is turned from the direction which has been given it by
glancing along the weakest substance, so was my course of life changed
from its direction by meeting with a woman.

My father had a good customer; he had shaved him every morning for
years, had extracted every tooth in his head, and was now winding up his
long account by bleeding him daily, under the direction of an ignorant
apothecary. I was often at the house--not to bleed him, for my father
either thought him too valuable, or was too grateful for past favours to
trust him in my hands;--but I held the basin, procured water, and
arranged the bandages. He had a daughter, a lovely girl, whom I adored
in secret; but her rank in life was too far above mine to allow me to
express my feelings. I was then a handsome young man, although Time has
since exerted his utmost, through jealousy, to make me appear almost as
old and ill-favoured as himself. The young lady took a fancy to me,
complained of the toothache, and asked for remedies. I offered to
extract the tooth; but either having heard of my reputation, or not
wishing to remove the excuse for our interviews, or, what is still more
probable, having no toothache whatever, she would not consent.

The death of her mother, which had taken place when she was a child, had
left her without guidance,--and the helpless situation of her father,
without protection. Naturally of a warm temperament, and yielding to the
impulse of her feelings, she carried on an intimacy which could only end
in her disgrace; and, at the expiration of a year, her situation could
no longer be concealed. I was now in a dilemma. She had two brothers in
the army, who were returning home, and I dreaded their vengeance. I
loved her very much, but I loved myself more; so, one evening, I packed
up all that I could call my own, and all that I could lay my hands on
belonging to my honoured parent, and shipped on board a Genoese vessel,
which was then standing out of the harbour. She was a large ship,
mounting twelve long guns, with a complement of sixty men; being what is
termed in European countries a "letter of marque." This implies that she
fights her way without convoy, capturing any of the enemy's vessels she
may happen to fall in with, who are not strong enough to resist her. We
had cleared out for Genoa with a cargo of lead, which lay at the bottom
of the hold, and which merely served for ballast.

I soon found out, by the conversation of the crew, that we were not to
proceed to Genoa direct; in fact, your highness, she was a pirate,
manned by a most desperate set of men. As soon as my qualifications were
made known, I had the honour to remove the beards of sixty of the
greatest villains that ever were permitted to exist, receiving nothing
but blows and curses for my trouble. I certainly improved very much in
my profession; for it was as much as my life was worth to draw blood,
although they made no scruple of carrying on a conversation during the
whole time of the operation. We had taken the cargoes out of several
vessels, all of which were added to the "manifest" by our correct
captain; when one day, we were chased by an English frigate. I never met
the English on shore, but I must say that, afloat, they are the most
impertinent people that swim on the seas. They cannot be content with
minding their own business, although they have plenty on their hands,
but they must interfere in that of others. They board you, and insist
upon knowing where you come from, whither you are bound, and what you
have on board; examining you with as much scrutiny as if they had been
the delegated custom-house officers of the whole world.

Now it did not exactly suit our captain to submit to such a rigorous
search; he therefore made all sail for an island about seven miles
distant, and anchored under the protection of a battery. Austria--the
nation to whom the island belonged--was not at war with England; she was
preserving what is called an "armed neutrality."

       *       *       *       *       *

"Pray what is the meaning of an armed neutrality?" demanded the pacha.

"It varies according to circumstances, your highness; but, generally
speaking, it means a charge of bayonets."

       *       *       *       *       *

The frigate followed; and being prevented by the shallowness of the
water from approaching sufficiently near to us herself, sent her boats
to examine us: but as there were six of them full of men, and each
mounting a gun at her bow, our captain thought it advisable to refuse
them permission to come on board. As a hint that he disapproved of their
measures, he poured his whole broadside of round and grape into them,
when they were about a quarter of a mile distant: upon which they gave
three cheers, and were obstinate enough to pull faster towards us than
ever.

We received them with all the honours of war, in the shape of cutlasses,
pistols and boarding pikes; but they were very determined. As soon as
one was knocked down, another jumped up in his place; and somehow or
another they had possession of the ship in less time than I have been
telling the story. I was on the poop, when an English sailor, with a
pigtail as thick as a cable made a cut at me: I ran back to avoid the
blow, and, in so doing, came with such force against another of their
men, that we both tumbled overboard together. I lost my cutlass, but he
had not parted with his; and as soon as we rose to the surface, he
seized me by the collar, and presented the point to my breast. It seemed
to be all the same to him whether he fought on the deck or in the water.
Fortunately I shifted a little on one side, and he only drove it
through my jacket. I recollected that I had my razor in my pocket, which
I to

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