Simplex was all of a tremble when he entered the antechamber. The Kaimakan was sitting on his carpet, and on a low table before him steamed a dish of pilaf, that is, sheep's flesh mixed with rice; beside him lay two bamboo canes.
"Ah! Come hither, my son, and choose," said the Kaimakan to the trembling wretch, "which you will have: this dish of pilaf or a hundred strokes on the soles of your feet with these two bamboos? Don't tremble, but choose whichever you like. Here are paper, ink, and pens, write me out a receipt. If you want pilaf, write that you have received pilaf; but if you choose stripes, acknowledge that you've had stripes."
Simplex did not understand it at all. He could not see the point of the Kaimakan's joke. But he did not want the bastinado again, and the pilaf pleasantly tickled his nostrils. So he did not take long to make up his mind, but sat down and consumed the pilaf to the very last morsel. It pleases the Turks when one does not despise their favorite dishes. Simplex knew that.
"Now, my son," said the Kaimakan, when Simplex had finished, "now write that I have this day regaled you with pilaf instead of bamboo, and address your letter to your dear comrade, the honorable, noble, and valiant Valentine Kalondai, that accursed, unbelieving dog who has not only freed himself from captivity without a ransom, but has taken his master, the sheep butcher, along with him to Onod, and now he offers him in exchange for you, and threatens to requite his prisoner good or evil, according as you are treated here."
So Simplex had to testify in writing that the Turks had shown him all possible kindness. Then the fetter was taken off one foot and fastened to his girdle as a sign that he was half free; but he had to go about with the chain on the other foot till his good friend came to take it off.
CHAPTER XIX.
The story now to be related very much resembles the story of Joseph and Potiphar, but not quite, inasmuch as it is not Joseph, but Potiphar, who is finally cast into prison.
It will be worth the trouble to listen how Valentine escaped from captivity. It is a wondrous story, though perfectly true, for Simplex records it in his memoirs.
Valentine's master, the mutton salesman, had a beautiful vineyard, and in the vineyard a pretty wooden hut which, being a Turk, he called his kiosk.