The prince pressed Thomar's hand and whispered back, "I must go; you keep on defending the Seraglio!" And with that he embraced the youth and kissed him twice with great fervor.
Thomar was somewhat startled by this burning, affectionate kiss, and wondered what it meant. The darkness did not allow him to distinguish the prince's features; and when he tried to detain him once more the prince hastily disengaged himself and stepped forth from under the dark vault among the Janissaries.
Thomar covered his eyes with his hands; he did not want to see the fate of the prince at that moment. It was quite possible that the blood-thirsty might cut him down on the spot in a sudden access of fury.
The prince stepped forth among the rebels.
At that moment a cry of unbridled joy, triumph, and blood-thirstiness burst from the Janissaries. It needed but one of them to raise his hand, and the next would speedily have completed the bloodiest deed of all.
But the prince stood before them haughtily and valiantly, and, with amazing audacity, cried to them, "Down on your knees before me, ye rebels!"
At these words Thomar, with a start of terror, looked at the prince. The full light of the torches fell upon his charming face. It was not Abdul Mejid, but—Milieva! They had dressed her inside the harem in garments suitable to the Feast of Bairam, and she had come out instead of the prince, courageously, as if she had been born to it. Who was likely to notice the change? The heart of this odalisk loved to play a manly part, and it was not merely the masculine garb she wore which transformed her, but the masculine soul within her.
The Janissaries, moreover, were dumfounded by this bold attitude. This graceful, noble figure stood face to face with them and domineered the mob with a commanding look, proudly, majestically, as became a born ruler. And yet death hovered over the head of him who dared to say, "I am the prince!"
Thomar, forgetting himself, seized his sword, and would have rushed to the defence of his sister but his comrades held him back. "What would you do, unhappy wretch? Trust to Fate!"
Kara Makan, in savage defiance, approached the false prince with a drawn sword in his hand.