Halil the Pedlar: A Tale of Old Stambul — John Shaqi
Halil the Pedlar: A Tale of Old StambulJókai, Mór
History
Halil the Pedlar: A Tale of Old Stambul
Jókai, Mór
Janizaries -- Fiction; Turkey -- History -- Mahmud I, 1730-1754 -- Fiction
"The sight of the treasures," resumed the girl, "had no effect upon
Irene. She never failed to invoke the name of the Blessed Virgin
whenever the face of a man drew near to her face, and the Blessed Virgin
always wrought a miracle in her behalf."
"'Tis my belief," said Halil, "that there were no miracles at all in the
matter; but that the girl had so strong a will that by an effort she
made herself dead to all tortures."
"At last they came to a definite decision concerning this slave-girl, it
was resolved to sell her by public auction in the bazaars--to sell her
as a common slave to the highest bidder. And so Irene fell to a poor
hawker who gave his all for her. For a whole month this man left his
slave-girl untouched, and the girl who could not be subdued by torture,
nor the blandishments of great men, nor by treasures, nor by ardent
desire, became very fond of the poor costermonger, and no longer became
as one dead when _his_ burning lips were impressed upon her face."
And with that Guel-Bejaze embraced her husband and kissed him again and
again, and smiled upon him with her large radiant eyes.
"A very pretty story truly!" observed Musli, smacking his lips; "what a
pity there is not more of it!"
"Oh, no regrets, worthy Mussulman, there _is_ more of it!" cried the
Berber-Bashi, rising from his place; "just listen to the sequel of it!
Having had the girl sold by auction in the bazaar, the Padishah bade Ali
Kermesh, his trusty Berber-Bashi, make inquiries and see what happened
to the damsel _after_ the sale. Now the Berber-Bashi knew that the girl
had only pretended to faint, and the Berber-Bashi brought the girl back
to the Seraglio before she had spent a single night alone with her
husband. For I am the Berber-Bashi and thou art Guel-Bejaze, that same
slave-girl going by the name of Irene who feigned to be dead."
Everyone present leaped in terror to his feet except Janaki, who fell
down on his knees before the Berber-Bashi, embraced his knees, and
implored him to treat all that the girl had said as if he had not heard
it.
"We are lost!" whispered the bloodless Guel-Bejaze. The intoxication of
joy and wine had suddenly left her and she was sober once more.
Janaki implored, Musli cursed and swore, but Halil spake never a word.
He held his wife tightly embraced in his arms and he thought within
himself, I would rather allow my hand to be chopped off than let her go.
Janaki promised money and loads of treasure to Ali Kermesh if only he
would hold his tongue, say nothing of what had happened, and let the
girl remain with her husband.
But the Berber-Bashi was inexorable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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