All night long the Kizlar-Aga tormented Achmed with the saying of the
Reis-Effendi: "We would rather have them alive!"
"No, no," said the Sultan, "we will not have them delivered up alive. It
shall not be in the power of the people to torture and tear them to
pieces. Rather let them die in my palace, an easy, instantaneous death,
without fear and scarce a pang of pain, wept and mourned for by their
friends."
"Then hasten on their deaths, dread sir, lest the morning come and they
be demanded while still alive."
"Tarry a while, I say, wait but for the morning. You would not surely
kill them at night! At night the gates of Heaven are shut. At night the
phantoms of darkness are let loose. You would not slay any living
creature at night! Wait till the day dawns."
The first ray of light had scarce appeared on the horizon when the
Kizlar-Aga once more stood before the Sultan.
"Master, the day is breaking."
"Call hither the mufti and Sulali!"
Both of them speedily appeared.
"Convey death to those who are already doomed."
Sulali and the mufti fell down on their knees.
"Wherefore this haste, O my master?" cried the aged mufti, bitterly
weeping as he kissed the Sultan's feet.
"Because the rebels wish them to be surrendered alive."
"So it is," observed the Kizlar-Aga by way of corroboration, "the whole
space in front of the kiosk is filled with the insurgents."
The Sultan almost collapsed with horror.
"Hasten, hasten! lest they fall into their hands alive.
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