"He will certainly do so," protested the governor.—"And now, my son, with his excellency's permission, I will call the slaves, and have you carried down again. I am afraid we are trespassing on valuable time, as his excellency will have many things to attend to."
The pacha assented to this by his silence, and the governor hastened to call the slaves, that they might bear his son down into the garden.
The pacha pressed Osman's hand once more, assured him of his friendship, and promised him solemnly that Mohammed need no longer be fearful and anxious.
"And he is not," cried Osman, quickly; "he fears nothing."
"Be still, my son," exclaimed the governor, interrupting him hastily; "his excellency only means that he will be considerate with him, and that you will have nothing to fear on Mohammed's account. And now, come, let us go."
He then bowed profoundly to the pacha, and walked out beside the couch on which the slaves were carrying his son.
The pacha's countenance grew still darker when the door had closed behind father and son.
"This Osman is shrewd," he murmured to himself. "He knows how to divine one's thoughts.—Achmed and Ali, come in!"
The eunuchs glided in through the side-entrance, and remained standing near the door, their heads profoundly inclined. He slowly raised his hand, and beckoned to them to come nearer.
"What progress have you made in your search?"