He seemed not to notice the mockery in her words, and bowed in silence.
"No one may enter or leave your house during your absence."
"Why do you say this to me? Say it to those who may desire to leave it after I have gone, and who may be alarmed. I am not alarmed; my conscience does not accuse me. My carriage is ready—let us go. I trust, however, that the viceroy does not require me to appear before him alone; it is becoming that Mourad's Bey's widow should be accompanied by her women when she goes out."
"I am not instructed to refuse such a request; yet, there must not be more of them than your carriage will contain."
"Two of my servants will accompany me," said she. Without once looking back into the room, or manifesting any fear or anxiety whatever, she stepped out into the vestibule, and, beckoning to two of the weeping women who had assembled about her, commanded them to follow her. "You others need fear nothing," said she with perfect composure. "The cadi leaves his guards here to protect you, against whom I know not, but certainly against someone." Taking leave of her servants with a kindly nod, and drawing her veil more closely about her, she walked proudly out into the court-yard to the carriage.
Almost ashamed of his errand, the cadi followed and assisted her in entering the carriage, closing the door after her. The carriage drove off rapidly, accompanied by the cadi and his officers, while another body of men remained in charge of the house.
Sitta Nefysseh leaned back against the cushions while the carriage rolled through the streets, her thoughts far distant from her present surroundings.
"I thank thee, Allah, that he is saved!" she murmured to herself. "I thank thee! He would have been excited to ungovernable wrath, and he would have been punished and imprisoned as a rebel. I have saved him! What have I now to fear? Let the worst befall, provided only that he be safe!"
The carriage moved slowly up the Muskj Street, through dense crowds of people. It was market day, and the street was thronged with people, who complained so loudly of the intruding carriage and horsemen that Sitta Nefysseh, aroused from her meditations, leaned forward and drew the window curtains aside. The people, who in their wrath had not observed that the cadi and his officers constituted the escort of the carriage, now became silent as they saw the woman at the window, and peered in with curiosity.
Sitta Nefysseh raised her veil and displayed her countenance to the multitude. "It is Sitta Nefysseh, Mourad Bey's widow!" resounded in the street. The cry was repeated until the gaze of all became fixed on the carriage in astonishment. "What does it mean?"