I now determined to go home, and to bed in my own house. With that intention, I washed my face and wound with vinegar, and found the blood to be already staunched. I then wrapt myself up in my cloak, and returned home without accident, and went to bed. But this would neither satisfy Ayto Heikel nor Petros, who went to the house of Ayto Aylo, then past midnight, so that early in the morning, when scarce light, I saw him come into my chamber. Guebra Mascal had fled to the house of Kefla Yasous his relation; and the first news we heard in the morning, after Ayto Aylo arrived, were, that Guebra Mascal was in irons at the Ras’s house.
Every person that came afterwards brought up some new account; the whole people present had been examined, and had given, without variation, the true particulars of my forbearance, and his insolent behaviour. Every body trembled for some violent resolution the Ras was to take on my first complaint. The town was full of Tigrè soldiers, and nobody saw clearer than I did, however favourable a turn this had taken for me in the beginning, it might be my destruction in the end.
I asked Ayto Aylo his opinion. He seemed at a loss to give it me; but said, in an uncertain tone of voice, he could wish that I would not complain of Guebra Mascal while I was angry, or while the Ras was so inveterate against him, till some of his friends had spoken, and appeared, at least, his first resentment. I answered, “That I was of a contrary opinion, and that no time was to be lost: remember the letter of Mahomet Gibberti; remember his confidence yesterday of my being safe where he was; remember the influence of Ozoro Esther, and do not let us lose a moment.” “What, says Aylo to me in great surprise, are you mad? Would you have him cut to pieces in the midst of 20,000 of his countrymen? Would you be dimmenia, that is, guilty of the blood of all the province of Tigrè, through which you must go in your way home?” “Just the contrary, said I, nobody has so great a right over the Ras’s anger as I have, being the person injured; and, as you and I can get access to Ozoro Esther when we please, let us go immediately thither, and stop the progress of this affair while it is not yet generally known. People that talk of my being wounded expect to see me, I suppose, without a leg or an arm. When they see me so early riding in the street, all will pass for a story as it should do. Would you wish to pardon him entirely?”—“That goes against my heart, too, says Aylo, he is a bad man.”—“My good friend, said I, be in this guided by me, I know we both think the same thing. If he is a bad man, he was a bad man before I knew him. You know what you told me yourself of the Ras’s jealousy of him. What if he was to revenge his own wrongs, under pretence of giving me satisfaction for mine? Come, lose no time, get upon your mule, go with me to Ozoro Esther, I will answer for the consequences.”
We arrived there; the Ras was not sitting in judgment, he had drank hard the night before, on occasion of Powussen’s marriage, and was not in bed when the story of the fray reached him. We found Ozoro Esther in a violent anger and agitation, which was much alleviated by my laughing. On her asking me about my wound, which had been represented to her as dangerous, “I am afraid, said I, poor Guebra Mascal is worse wounded than I.” “Is he wounded too? says she; I hope it is in his heart.” “Indeed, replied I, Madam, there are no wounds on either side. He was very drunk, and I gave him several blows upon the face as he deserved, and he has already got all the chastisement he ought to have; it was all a piece of folly.” “Prodigious! says she; is this so?” “It is so, says Aylo, and you shall hear it all by-and-by, only let us stop the propagation of this foolish story.”
The Ras in the instant sent for us. He was naked, sitting on a stool, and a slave swathing up his lame leg with a broad belt or bandage. I asked him calmly and pleasantly if I could be of any service to him? He looked at me with a grin, the most ghastly I ever saw, as half displeased. “What! says he, are you all mad? Aylo, what is the matter between him and that miscreant Guebra Mascal?”—“Why, said I, I am come to tell you that myself; why do you ask Ayto Aylo? Guebra Mascal got drunk, was insolent, and struck me. I was sober, and beat him, as you will see by his face; and I have now come to you to say I am sorry that I lifted my hand against your nephew; but he was in the wrong, and drunk; and I thought it was better to chastise him on the spot, than trust him to you, who perhaps might take the affair to heart, for we all know your justice, and that being your relation is no excuse when you judge between man and man.” “I order you, Aylo, says Michael, as you esteem my friendship, to tell me the truth, really as it was, and without disguise or concealment.”
Aylo began accordingly to relate the whole history, when a servant called me out to Ozoro Esther. I found with her another nephew of the Ras, a much better man, called Welleta Selassé, who came from Kefla Yasous, and Guebra Mascal himself, desiring I would forgive and intercede for him, for it was a drunken quarrel without malice. Ozoro Esther had told him part. “Come in with me, said I, and you shall see I never will leave the Ras till he forgive him.” “Let him punish him, says Welleta Selassé, he is a bad man, but don’t let the Ras either kill or maim him.” “Come, said I, let us go to the Ras, and he shall neither kill, maim, nor punish him, if I can help it. It is my first request; if he refuses me I will return to Jidda; come and hear.”
Aylo had urged the thing home to the Ras in the proper light—that of my safety. “You are a wise man, says Michael, now perfectly cool, as soon as he saw me and Welleta Selassé. It is a man like you that goes far in safety, which is the end we all aim at. I feel the affront offered you more than you do, but will not have the punishment attributed to you; this affair shall turn to your honour and security, and in that light only I can pass over his insolence.” “Welleta Selassé, says he, falling into a violent passion in an instant, What sort of behaviour is this my men have adopted with strangers? and my stranger, too, and in the king’s palace, and the king’s servant? What! am I dead? or become incapable of governing longer?” Welleta Selassé bowed, but was afraid to speak, and indeed the Ras looked like a fiend.
“Come, says the Ras, let me see your head.” I shewed him where the blood was already hardened, and said it was a very slight cut. “A cut, continued Michael, over that part, with one of our knives, is mortal.” “You see, Sir, said I, I have not even clipt the hair about the wound; it is nothing. Now give me your promise you will set Guebra Mascal at liberty; and not only that, but you are not to reproach him with the affair further than that he was drunk, not a crime in this country.” “No, truly, says he, it is not; but that is, because it is very rare that people fight with knives when they are drunk. I scarce ever heard of it, even in the camp.” “I fancy, said I, endeavouring to give a light turn to the conversation, they have not often wherewithal to get drunk in your camp.” “Not this last year, says he, laughing, there were no houses in the country.” “But let me only merit, said I, Welleta Selassé’s friendship, by making him the messenger of good news to Guebra Mascal, that he is at liberty, and you have forgiven him.” “At liberty! says he, Where is he?” “In your house, said I, somewhere, in irons.” “That is Esther’s intelligence, continued the Ras; these women tell you all their secrets, but when I remember your behaviour to them I do not wonder at it, and that consideration likewise obliges me to grant what you ask. Go, Welleta Selassé, and free that dog from his collar, and direct him to go to Welleta Michael, who will give him his orders to levy the meery in Woggora; let him not see my face till he returns.”
Ozoro Esther gave us breakfast, to which several of the Greeks came. After which I went to Koscam, where I heard a thousand curses upon Guebra Mascal. The whole affair was now made up, and the king was acquainted with the issue of it. I stood in my place, where he shewed me very great marks of favour; he was grave, however, and sorrowful, as if mortified with what had happened. The king ordered me to stay and dine at the palace, and he would send me my dinner. I there saw the sons of Kasmati Eshté, Aylo, and Engedan, and two Welleta Selassés; one the son of Tecla Mariam, the other the son of a great nobleman in Goiam, all young men, with whom I lived ever after in perfect familiarity and friendship. The two last were my brethren Baalomaal, or gentlemen of the king’s bed-chamber.
They all seemed to have taken my cause to heart more than I wished them to do, for fear it should be productive of some new quarrel. For my own part, I never was so dejected in my life. The troublesome prospect before me presented itself day and night. I more than twenty times resolved to return by Tigrè, to which I was more inclined by the loss of a young man who accompanied me through Barbary, and assisted me in the drawings of architecture which I made for the king there, part of which he was still advancing here, when a dysentery, which had attacked him in Arabia Felix, put an end to his life[17] at Gondar. A considerable disturbance was apprehended upon burying him in a church-yard. Abba Salama used his utmost endeavours to raise the populace and take him out of his grave; but some exertions of the Ras quieted both Abba Salama and the tumults.