"Whose is that?" inquired Halil.
Guel-Bejaze's tender frame shivered in the arms of the strong man who
held her, as he compelled her to gaze at the bloody heads. And when she
regarded the third head she shook her own in amazement.
"I do not know that one."
"Not know it! Look again and more carefully. Perchance Death has changed
the expression of the features. That is Damad Ibrahim the Grand Vizier."
Guel-Bejaze regarded her husband with eyes wide-open with astonishment,
and then hastened to reply:
"Truly it _is_ Damad Ibrahim. Of course, of course. Death hath
disfigured his face so that I scarce knew it."
"Did I not tell thee that thou shouldst make sport with the heads of
those who made sport with thy heart? Dost thou want yet more?"
"Oh, no, no, Halil. I am afraid of these also. I am afraid to look upon
these dumb heads."
"Then cover them over with flowers, and thou wilt believe thou dost see
flower-baskets before thee."
"Let me have them buried, Halil. Do not make me fear thee also. Thou
wouldst have me go on loving thee, wouldst thou not? If only thou
wouldst come with me to Anatolia, where nobody would know anything about
us!"
"What dost thou say? Go away now when the very sun cannot set because of
me, and men cannot sleep because of the sound of my name? Dost not thou
also feel a desire to bathe in all this glory?"
"Oh, Halil! the rose and the palm grow up together out of the same
earth, and yet the palm grows into greatness while the rose remains
quite tiny.
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