In the gates of the Seraglio the dismissed envoys encountered Master Ladislaus Csaky. The worthy gentleman at once perceived from their self-satisfied smiles and the new caftans they were wearing that they had been sent away with a favourable reply; whereupon, notwithstanding that he had already agreed with Paul Béldi to render homage to the French and German Ministers, he did not consider it superfluous to pay his court to Master Farkas Bethlen also, and offer to surrender himself body and soul if the Prince would agree to pardon him and restore his estates.
Farkas Bethlen accepted the proposal and not only promised Csaky an amnesty, but high office to boot if he would separate from Béldi; nay, he rewarded on the spot that gentleman who had thus very wisely fastened the threads of his fate to four several places at the same time, so that if one of them broke he could still hold on to the other three.
"Béldi has ruined his affairs utterly," said Kucsuk Pasha to his son, as they retired from the Diván; "I give up every idea of saving him."
"I don't," sighed Feriz. "I'll either save or perish with him."
"Let us go to Maurocordato, he may perhaps advise us."
After an hour's interview with Maurocordato, Feriz Beg, with fifty armed Albanian horsemen, took the road towards Grosswardein.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE TURKISH DEATH.
In the gate of the Pasha of Grosswardein, amidst the gaping throng of armed retainers there, could be seen a pale wizened Moslem idly sprawling on the threshold, apparently regardless of everything, but sometimes looking up, cat-like, with half-shut, dreamy eyes, and at such times he would smile craftily to himself.