End of the Second Volume.
Volume Three--Chapter One.
The next morning the pacha and his minister, after the business of the divan, with their heads aching from the doubts of Hudusi, or the means that they had taken to remove them, in not the best humour in the world listened to the continuation of them, as follows:—
I have heard it observed, continued Hudusi, that the sudden possession of gold will make a brave man cautious, and he who is not brave, still more dastardly than he was before. It certainly was the case with me; my five hundred pieces of gold had such an effect, that every thing in the shape of valour oozed out at my fingers’ ends. I reflected again, and the result was, that I determined to have nothing more to do with the business, and that neither the sultan nor the pacha should be the better for my exertions. That night we made a sally; and as I was considered a prodigy of valour, I was one of those who were ordered to lead on my troop. I curled my moustachios, swore I would not leave a janissary alive, flourished my scimitar, marched out at the head of my troop, and then took to my heels, and in two days arrived safely at my mother’s house. As soon as I entered, I tore my turban, and threw dust upon my head, in honour of my father’s memory, and then sat down. My mother embraced me—we were alone.
“And your father? Is it for him that we are to mourn?”
“Yes,” replied I, “he was a lion, and he is in Paradise.”
My mother commenced a bitter lamentation; but of a sudden recollecting herself, she said, “but, Hudusi, it’s no use tearing one’s hair and good clothes for nothing. Are you sure that your father is dead?”