The seven days had passed during which Hassan had forbidden that anyone should be admitted to his presence, and it occurred to Azrael that in the ante-chamber crowds of brilliant envoys, and couriers, and supplicants were waiting, all eagerly desirous of an audience, many of them with rich gifts; others came to render homage, others with joyful tidings from the seat of war; whilst one of them had come all the way from the Grand Vizier with a very important message from the Sultan himself.
Hassan's stupid mind brightened somewhat at these words, a fatuously good-natured smile lit up his face.
"Let them come in, let them appear before me," he said joyfully to the girl; "and remain thou beside me and introduce them to me one by one; thine shall be the glory of it."
But in reality none was awaiting an audience in the ante-room, there were no splendid envoys there, no humble petitioners, no agas, no messengers, none but the Vizier's own slaves.
But these Azrael dressed up one by one to look like splendid magnates, village magistrates, and soldiers; put sealed letters, purses, and banners in their hands, and placing Hassan in the reception-room on a lofty divan, sat down with the Princess on stools at his feet, and ordered the door-keepers to admit the disguised slaves one by one.
The mockery was flagrant, but was there among them all any who dared to enlighten Hassan? Who would undertake to undeceive him when a mere nod from Azrael might annihilate before the Vizier could realise that they were making sport of him? It was a fleet-winged demon fooling a sluggish mammoth with strength enough to crush her but with no wings to enable it to get at her, and the rabble always takes the part of the mocker, not of the mocked, especially if the former be lucky and the latter unlucky.
The loutish slaves came one by one into the room, and Hassan turned his face towards them, remaining in that position while Azrael told him who they were and what they wanted.
"This is Ferhad Aga," said the odalisk, pointing at a stable-man, "who, hearing of thy martial prowess in all four corners of the world has come hither begging thee with veiled countenance to include him among thy armour-bearers."
Hassan most graciously extended his hand to the stable-man and granted him his petition.
Azrael next presented to Hassan a cook from a foreign court, who, dressed in a large round mantle of cloth of silver, might very well have passed for a burgomaster of Debreczen, and whose shoulders bent beneath the weight of two sacks of gold and silver from Hassan's own treasury.