They then exchanged a few more sentences to regulate their proceedings for the following day, of which Murad only caught the words, “You all meet at my house at noon.” This was spoken by Ali Bey, who as he rose up to go away almost stumbled over the prostrate form of Murad, who had rolled himself in his old torn cloak and lay on the floor feigning sleep, but listening with eager anxiety to the dangerous secrets of which he had accidentally been made the partaker.
“What is this son of a dog doing here?” said Ali Bey, pointing with his foot to the recumbent form of Murad.
“It is only the deaf and dumb child,” replied one of the others contemptuously.
“Supposing he should prove to be neither deaf nor dumb, nor asleep?” said the suspicious Arnàout.
“I will just give him six inches of my dagger in the ribs, and then I shall be sure that he is deaf and dumb.” So saying, he drew his dagger, and held over the boy’s face a half-expiring lamp that he snatched from the table. A start, a tremor, the slightest indication of consciousness, would have been Murad’s instant death-warrant; but the brave little boy bore the severe ordeal. Not a muscle nor a quickened respiration betokened aught but the quiet slumber of youth.
“Pish!” said the rough savage, “his sleep is fast enough, whether he be deaf or not. Inshallah! before long my dagger will drink better blood than his.” So saying, he strode out of the café, followed by the other conspirators, who separated and went to their several homes.
For nearly an hour after they were gone Murad remained motionless collecting his scattered thoughts, which, unaccustomed as they were to dwell on conspiracies or political revolutions, seemed oppressed and overwhelmed by the terrible secret which he bore about him.
No sooner, however, did he recover from the terror which he had endured from the Arnàout’s dagger than he resolved at once to hasten to Hassan and tell him everything. This he did before dawn, as we have above mentioned; and our hero, having heard his tale, and made him repeat certain portions of it so as to feel assured of the accuracy of his memory, told Murad to remain in his room till he returned.
Having armed himself with a brace of pocket-pistols and a short dagger, which he concealed within his vest, he mounted his horse, and, accompanied by Abou-Hamedi, rode out towards the desert by the Gate of Victory. After skirting the desert for a couple of miles he turned to the left, through some cultivated fields and olive-plantations, until he found himself at the gates of the Shoobra garden. His only fear was that he might be denied access to the Viceroy; but he had made up his mind to demand it through his old acquaintance the medical interpreter.
Assuming, therefore, an authoritative air, he said to the gatekeeper in Turkish, “I wish to see the Hakim-Bashi, and my business with him is urgent.”