The old woman’s ears were keen, she had heard the question of Mustapha, and she easily imagined the rest; and she had heard the reply of the pacha.
“And now, pacha, before I quit your presence, as I have enjoyed your bounty, I will, with your permission, offer you a piece of advice, which, from my knowledge of the world and of people’s countenances, may be of no small service to you. Is it permitted, O pacha!”
“Speak,” replied the pacha.
“Then, pacha, beware of that man who sits beside you; for there is that in his face which tells me that he will raise himself upon your fall. Pacha, beware!”
“Hag of Jehanum,” exclaimed Mustapha, rising from his seat.
The old woman held up her finger, and walked out of the divan.
The pacha looked suspiciously at Mustapha, for he was of a suspicious nature; and Mustapha looked any thing but innocent.
“Doth my lord give ear to a lying tongue of an old woman?” said Mustapha, prostrating himself. “Hath not your slave proved himself faithful? Am not I as dust in thy presence? Take my life, O pacha! but doubt not the fidelity of thy slave.”
The pacha seemed pacified. “What is all this but bosh, nothing?” said he, rising and quitting the apartment.
“Bosh!” muttered Mustapha. “The cursed old hag! I know better—there is no time to lose—I must be quick. When will that renegade return from Stamboul? it is time.” And Mustapha, with a gloomy countenance, quitted the divan.