* * * * *
Happy Guel-Bejaze sits in Halil's lap and dreamily allows herself to be
cradled in his arms. Through the windows of the splendid palace
penetrate the shouts of triumph which hail Halil as Lord, for the
moment, of the city of Stambul and the whole Ottoman Empire.
Guel-Bejaze tremulously whispers in Halil's ear how much she would prefer
to dwell in a simple, lonely little hut in Anatolia instead of there in
that splendid palace.
Halil smooths away the luxuriant locks from his wife's forehead, and
makes her tell him once more the full tale of all those revolting
incidents which befell her in the Seraglio, in the captivity of the
Kapudan's house, and in the dungeon for dishonourable women. Why should
he keep on arousing hatred and vengeance?
The woman told him everything with a shudder. At her husband's feet,
right in front of them, stood three baskets full of flowers. Halil had
given them to her as a present.
But at the bottom of the baskets were still more precious gifts.
He draws forward the first basket and sweeps away the flowers. A bloody
head is at the bottom of the basket.
"Whose is that?"
Guel-Bejaze, all shuddering, lisped the name of Abdi Pasha.
He cast away the flowers from the second basket, there also was a bloody
head.
"And whose is that?"
"That is the Kiaja Beg's," sobbed the terrified girl.
And now Halil brought forward the third basket, and dashing aside from
it the fresh flowers, revealed to the eyes of Guel-Bejaze a grey head
with a white beard, which lay with closed eyes at the bottom of the
basket.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143