Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No 409, November 1849Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No 409, November 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
In the street of La Trouille, which took its name from the fortress
built by the Emperor Constantine, dwelt a barber, who, to follow
the mode of the barbers and bath-keepers of Paris, sold wine and
entertained gamesters. Young men, sailors, merchants, and citizens
of Arles, resorted to his shop--some to transact business; others
to discuss matters of gallantry or pleasure; others, again, to seek
dupes. Of a night, sounds of quarrel were often heard in the shop, to
which the town-archers had more than once paid a visit. If a stranger
staked his coin on a turn of the cards, or throw of the dice, it was no
mere hazard that transferred his ducats to the pockets of the regular
frequenters of the house. Seated upon a post, opposite to this honest
establishment, John the Foundling watched each face that entered or
came out. After some time, he saw approaching from afar the captain of
the brigantine, with his flat turban and his great matchlock pistol.
When the Turk reached the barber's door, John placed himself before him.
"Sir stranger," said the boy, "did you not arrive here this morning
from the East, on important business which concerns the Commander de
Beaujeu?"
"_Si_," replied the Turk; "but I may also say that it is business which
concerns you not."
"You mistake," said John; "it does concern me, and I come on purpose to
speak to you about it."
"'Tis possible," said the old captain; "_ma mi non voler, mi non poter,
mi non aver tempo_."
"Nevertheless," firmly retorted John, "you must find time to hear me.
What I have to communicate to you is of the utmost importance."
"Do me the pleasure _de andar al diable_!" cried the Turk, in his
Franco-Italian jargon.
"I am there already," replied the lad; "rest assured that I know who
you are. I will not leave you till you have given me a hearing."
The old Mussulman, who had hitherto averted his head to try to break
off the conversation, at last raised his melancholy and aquiline
countenance. With his yellow eyes he fixed an angry gaze upon the
chorister, and said to him in a full strong voice:--
"Well, enter this shop with me. We will presently speak together."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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