They first bent their course to the Charshees; and the confidant pointed out many a grave-looking, middle-aged Mussulmaun to the admiration of her companion; but the freed-woman only shrugged her shoulders, uttered a contemptuous “Mashallàh!” and turned away her eyes.
The stream of life flowed on beside their path. Turbans of green, of white, and of yellow passed along; but none of the wearers found favour in the sight of the husband-seeking fair one. Hours were wasted in vain; she was as far removed from a decision as when she stepped into the caïque at Beglierbey; and the patience of her companion was worn threadbare; she became silent, sullen, and sleepy—and still the araba groaned and drawled along the narrow streets—Human nature could endure no more; and after having been jolted out of a quiet slumber three several times, the confidant digressed from weariness to expostulation.
“May the Prophet receive me into paradise! Is there not a True Believer in Stamboul worthy to become the husband of a woman whose hair is gray; and who has long ceased to pour out the scented sherbet in the garden of roses? Had it been my kismet[7] to come hunting through the thoroughfares of the city on the same errand, I should have chosen long ago.”
The freed-woman only replied by desiring the arabajhe to drive to the quarter inhabited by the sèkèljhes, or sweetmeat-makers; the finest race of men in Constantinople. When they entered it, she began to look about her with more earnestness than she had hitherto exhibited; but even here she was in no haste to come to a decision; and although she passed many a stately Musselmaun whom she would not have refused in the brightest days of her youth, she “made no sign” until she arrived opposite to the shop of a manufacturer of alva, a sweet composition much esteemed in the East; where half a dozen youths, bare-legged, and with their shirt sleeves rolled up to their shoulders, were employed in kneading the paste, previously to its being put into the oven.
“Inshallàh—I trust in God! He is here—” said the lady, as she stopped the carriage; “See you not that tall stripling, with arms like the blossom of the seringa, and eyes as black as the dye of Khorasan?”
“He who is looking towards us?” exclaimed her companion in astonishment; “The Prophet have pity on him! Why, he is young enough to be your son.”
The answer of the freed-woman was an angry pull at her yashmac, as she drew more closely together the folds of her feridjhe. The young and handsome sèkèljhe was summoned to the side of the araba, and found to improve upon acquaintance; upon which he was informed of the happiness that awaited him, and received the tidings with true Turkish philosophy; and in a few days the bride removed into a comfortable harem, of which the ground-floor was a handsome shop, fitted up with a select stock of sweetmeats at the expence of the Sultan; and those who desire to see one of the principal actors in this little comedy, need only enter the gaily-painted establishment at the left-hand corner of the principal street leading into the Atmeidan, to form an acquaintance with Suleiman the sèkèljhe.
Another occurrence, equally authentic, and still more recent, is deserving of record, as being peculiarly characteristic of the rapid progress of enlightenment and liberality. An Emir of the city, celebrated for his sanctity and rigid observance of all the laws of Mahomet, had a fair daughter who sometimes indulged, in the solitude of the harem, in softer dreams than those of her austere father. Unfortunately for the stately priest, a guard-house, tenanted by a dozen armed men, under the command of an officer whose personal merits exceeded his years, was established not a hundred yards from his house; and, as the youthful commander paced slowly to and fro the street to dispel his ennui, it so chanced that he generally terminated his walk beneath the windows of the Emir’s harem.
The first time that the pretty Yasumi[8] Hanoum peeped through her lattice at the handsome soldier, the blood rushed to her brow, and her heart beat quick, though she knew not wherefore. The young beauty led a lonely life, for she was motherless, and her father was a stern man, who had no sympathy with womanly tastes; and, satisfied with providing for her daily necessities, never troubled himself further. It was by no means extraordinary, therefore, that she amused her idleness with watching the motions of the stranger; nor that, by dint of observing him, she ere long discovered that he was rapidly becoming an object of interest to her heart.
Then followed all the manœuvres of an Eastern beauty, who has no means of communication with the other sex, save those which her woman-wit enables her to invent. A shower of lavender buds, flung from the narrow opening of the lattice upon his head, first attracted the attention of the gallant Moslem to the Emir’s harem; nor was it diminished by a glimpse of one of the whitest little hands in the world, which, ere it closed the aperture, waved a graceful salutation that could be meant only for himself.