"We are in France," said Madame Murrah, "and my daughter has become free!"
"To conclude, sir," continued my uncle, without taking any notice of this objection, "this lady and I are both subjects of His Majesty the Sultan. Ours is simply a private dispute between fellow-Turks, coming entirely under the jurisdiction of our national tribunals, and is one in which your French courts, as you will understand, have no authority to interfere."
"You are not my daughter's husband!" exclaimed the Circassian; "she does not belong to you any longer, for you have given her to your nephew, a Giaour, an infidel!"
"Quite true, madam!" replied my uncle. "But," he continued, "these are details in a private dispute, with which this gentleman is not concerned. And I fancy he has by this time obtained sufficient information."
"Certainly, sir," said the officer of the law, rising from his seat. "I have taken down your replies, and my mission is accomplished."
Barbassou-Pasha, upon this conclusion, saluted him in his most dignified manner and conducted him out with every polite attention.
The Circassian, exasperated beyond measure, had not moved: rage was depicted on her whole countenance, and she looked like one determined to fight it out to the bitter end.
"I must insist upon speaking to my daughter," she said passionately, "and then we shall see!"
Just as he caught these words, my uncle came in, leading my poor Kondjé-Gul by the hand.
"Come, you silly old fool," he said to Madame Murrah, changing his tone quite suddenly, "you can see now that there is nothing left to you but to submit. Swallow all your stupid threats! You will make a good thing out of it all the same—for I give your daughter in marriage to my nephew!"