"Father, it is well with those who are thy enemies and grievous for them that love thee. What then will be our fate who love thee best of all? Amongst the wives of our brethren thou wilt find more than one in grey mourning weeds. Look, I prythee, at the face of Ummettulah; look at the eyes of Sabiha, and the appearance of Ezma. They are all of them widows and orphans, and it is thou who hast caused their fathers and husbands to be slain."
"To save thee I have done it," stammered Achmed, pressing the child to his breast.
"Thou wilt see that thou shalt not save us after all," sighed Bajazid.
In the years to come these words were to be as an eternal echo in the ears of Achmed.
So he sat on his throne and the Ulemas took their places around him on the divans covered with kordofan leather. Opposite to him sat the chief imam, Ispirizade. Sulali sat beside him.
"Lo, the blood of the victims has now been poured forth," said Achmed in a gloomy, tremulous voice, "I have sacrificed my most faithful servants. Speak! What more do the rebels require? Why do they still blow their field trumpets? Why do they still kindle their bivouac fires? What more do they want?"
And the words of his little son rang constantly in his ears: "It is well with those who are thy enemies and grievous for them that love thee."
No one replied to the words of the Sultan.
"Answer, I say! What think ye concerning the matter?"
Once more deep silence prevailed. The Ulemas looked at one another. Many of them began to nudge Sulali, who stood up as if to speak, but immediately sat down again without opening his mouth.