Dear me, what a brick of an uncle he is to me!
Notwithstanding Barbassou-Pasha's Turkish tactics, and in spite of the happiness which for the moment quite overwhelmed us, my poor Kondjé-Gul began to tremble again with fear after the departure of her mother, whom we knew to be capable of any mad act. We decided that, in order to avoid a very real danger, we would take her that very day to the convent of the Ladies of X.; this we did. Before she becomes my wife she is going to become a Christian, in pursuance of the wish which, as you know, she has expressed a long time since, of embracing my faith. This visit, which will account to the world for her disappearance, will be explained quite naturally by this finale of our marriage; and if people ever discover anything about this queer story of our amours, well—I shall have married my own slave, that's all.
Eh? What? You incorrigible carper! Is it not, after all, a charming romance?
A fortnight has passed since the intervention of the commissary. Kiusko has gone: he disappeared one morning. My aunt Eudoxia, who has taken us under her special care, goes to see Kondjé-Gul every day at the convent. She is charming in her kindness to us, but still we have our anxieties. The negotiation of the maternal consent is an arduous task, for the Circassian makes absurd pretensions; my uncle, however, undertakes to bring her down.
What will you say next, I wonder? That I am reduced to buying my own wife? I flatter myself that I shall find happiness in that bargain! How many others are there, who have done the same, that could say as much as that?
