And after all these amiable preparations the terrible message reached the worthy Yffim Beg from Hassan Pasha that he was to place all his movable chattels, gold and silver, on a fugitive footing, barricade the fortress, cut away the bridge so that the enemy might not be able to cross it, and follow him with the whole harem, beyond the Raab, for who could tell whether they would ever see the fortress of Buda again.
Yffim Beg was not particularly pleased with this message, but without taking long to think about it, he put the damsels of the harem into carriages, sent them off along the covered way adjoining the water-gate, in order to make as little disturbance as possible, and, as soon as they were on the other side of the bridge, ordered it to be destroyed and the garrison of the fortress to defend themselves as best they could.
He reached the Turkish army to find the opposing hosts drawn up against each other on different sides of the river, across which they bombarded each other from time to time, without doing much damage.
The Pasha's pavilion was well in the rear, out of cannon-shot; he was delighted when he saw Yffim Beg, and could not take his fill of kissing Azrael, who was lovelier and more gracious than ever.
"Remain here," he said to his favourites, embracing the pair of them. "I must retire now to the interior of my pavilion to pray for an hour or so with the dervishes, for a great and grievous duty will devolve upon me in an hour's time—two great Turkish nobles, Kucsuk Pasha and his son, are to be condemned to death."
Azrael started as violently as if a serpent had crept into her bosom.
"How have they offended?" she asked, scarce able to conceal her agitation.
"Against the precepts of the Prophet they engaged in battle on a day of ill-omen; they have cast dirt on the victorious half-moon, and must wash off the stain with their blood."
Hassan withdrew; Azrael remained alone in the tent with the Beg.
"I saw thee shudder," said Yffim, fixing his sharp eyes on the face of Azrael.