“The stout fellow bridled and thanked me with a smile.
“‘Thy servant,’ I continued, ‘is still very young; a scant half-dozen hairs chase each other over my chin; but being as yet unable to pretend to wisdom, I always seek the society of learned and erudite men, for their words are as sweet as honey and as intoxicating as cerevisia.’
“By talk like this I won the confidence of the fool; and before long, by worming it out of him I had learned his story. He was a rich merchant from Bagdad, who had been up the Tigris to sell a consignment of coffee and to buy Kurdistan rugs. He had been successful in his business, and was planning to set out for his native town the next morning. I passed myself off for the son of a caravan master of Aleppo, reading law at Ispahan, and now returning home for my vacation. In a short time we were the best friends in the world. I ordered innumerable cups of coffee and portions of hasheesh, for which I allowed him to pay. When we left the bath, my companion was completely under the influence of the intoxicating drug; he couldn’t take a step without leaning heavily on my arm. I had arranged my game in advance, and when we were in the lonely part of the town behind the citadel, I attacked him and relieved him of his belt, all lined with gold pieces. He was so stupefied by my behavior that he couldn’t say a word. Then, before leaving him, I cut his beard, ‘for,’ said I, ‘noble descendant of the prophet, your hair will make me a magnificent false beard, and thanks to your profound wisdom, your own will make speed to grow again.’ A smart kick sent him rolling into a ditch, where I left him to work off his hasheesh. I hadn’t time to bother with him any more; I hurried back to my inn, jumped astride my horse, and came straight back here to you.”
During the narration of this tale, the boys, overcome with drowsiness, had dropped off to sleep, and the brigands had laid them on a bed of leaves, where they slept the whole night through without waking.
Meanwhile, Boghos Effendi had been tormented by the most painful anxiety. At six o’clock, finding that the boys had not yet returned, he supposed that they had been delayed. But when at eight they had not come, he began to be seriously alarmed. He sent the shepherds out in bands to scour the neighborhood; but they were unable to bring him any tidings, and the poor father passed the night in mortal fear. At four in the morning, he was about to institute a new search, when he was told that a boy was waiting to speak to him. He went out immediately, and found a Kurd shepherd lad in the courtyard, who handed him a letter. He broke the seal with a trembling hand. There were but a few words to read:
“Your son and his companion have been taken prisoners by the brigands. Send one of your servants without escort to the cave of Kara Dagh, bringing the sum of one hundred pounds and the children will be set at liberty.
“Essad Chan.
“P. S.—If the money is not there by five o’clock this evening, you will never see your son alive again.”
Boghos Effendi put the letter in his pocket and looked up to ask the messenger some questions, but the lad had already disappeared. It was useless to go after him, and so the unhappy father called his steward and two old shepherds to come and give him their advice. They all, without hesitation, counseled him to send the money as quickly as possible, for Essad Chan was the most dangerous brigand in the country, and had both force and cunning at his command. Boghos Effendi then gave his steward the hundred pounds, and charged him to make haste so that he might reach the cavern before noon.
When the boys awoke, they were very much surprised to find themselves in a cave. Little by little, they recalled the events of the previous day, and began to wonder anxiously what the future had in store for them. The brigands, however, gave them no cause for complaint. A bountiful breakfast was offered them, and then one of the bandits invited Archag to play chess with him. The boy accepted with pleasure; he was a good player, but shrewd enough to let his opponent win. Another brigand took up his tamboura (a sort of mandolin) and fell to singing. In this way the morning passed pleasantly enough for the two captives; they were very happy, however, when some one came to tell them that they were free. They were blindfolded once more, so that they might not be able to describe the exact situation of the cave, and the brigands, on removing their bandages, made the boys swear on the crucifix not to follow them, nor try to find their hiding-place. The two lads took the oath, only too happy to get off so easily.