Suffer me but gently to crouch beside thee, dispense but thy
love to me, and keep thy glory to thyself."
Halil tenderly embraced and kissed the woman, and buried the three
baskets as she desired in the palace garden beneath three wide-spreading
rosemary bushes.
Then he took leave of Guel-Bejaze, for deputies from the people now
waited upon their leader, and begged him to accompany them to the mosque
of Zuleima, where the Sultan's envoys were already waiting for an
answer.
In order to get to the mosque more easily and avoid the labour of
forcing his way through the crowd that thronged the streets, Halil
hastened to the water side, got into the first skiff he met with, and
bade the sailor row him across to the Zuleima Mosque on the other side.
On the way his gaze fell upon the face of the sailor who was sitting
opposite to him. It was a grey-bearded old man.
"What is thy name, worthy old man?" inquired Halil.
"My name is Manoli, your Excellency."
"Call me not Excellency! Dost thou not perceive from my raiment that I
am nothing but a common Janissary?"
"Oh! I know thee better than that. Thou art Halil Patrona, whom may
Allah long preserve!"
"Thou also dost seem very familiar to me. Thou hast just such a white
beard as had Damad Ibrahim who was once Grand Vizier."
"I have often heard people say so, my master."
On arriving opposite the Zuleima Mosque, the boatman brought the skiff
ashore. Halil pressed a golden denarius into the old man's palm, the old
man kissed his hand for it.
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