"Mohammed Ali," said the governor, solemnly, "I thank you for your good services. You have accomplished that which, by your honor, you swore to fulfil. And I affirm that I also have kept my word. I allowed you to do as you thought best, and did not restrain you when I thought your acts cruel; but I must nevertheless admit that you have acted with wisdom and with courage. Gladly will I reward you for that which you obtained through your daring. It is fit that such a man should have an office, and exercise the duties thereof from now on. Mohammed Ali, I have good news to impart to you! The scenes of yesterday have taught me that, to preserve peace and quiet, it is necessary to have soldiers at hand. I have already dispatched a courier to the neighboring town, and a garrison shall hereafter stay here or at Cavalla. You, Mohammed Ali, I appoint boulouk bashi, or captain of this company that is to enter Cavalla to-morrow." A deep color overspread, like the morning sunlight, Mohammed's countenance:--"Master, you well know how to reward generously him who has done naught but his duty." "And now, my Mohammed," whispered Osman, softly, "or rather boulouk bashi, let me be the first to congratulate you. How proud and happy I shall be when I see Mohammed Ali, in his glittering uniform, marching at the head of his company. Proud and happy shall I account myself when so handsome, so brave a soldier, considers me worthy of his protection!" "You make sport of me," murmured Mohammed, a soft smile illuminating his countenance. In the spirit he saw himself in his handsome uniform at the head of his company. Truth and justice are once more acknowledged. The hour of humiliation and pain has gone by. The time he had so long looked for had arrived. He listened calmly to the tschorbadji's announcement that on the morrow his uniform would be ready, as well as those of his soldiers, which were to be sent, at once to Cavalla. "There will be a number of uniforms, and the young boulouk bashi can make his choice from among them." "And the sword, my father, the sword, I will give to my friend Mohammed Ali!" cried Osman, joyously. "Do you remember the gold- handled sword given me by the grand-vizier on his last visit? I have kept it jealously, though, alas! I can never wear it myself. And now my friend shall wear it in my place, and, when I see him pass by with the glittering weapon at his side, it will seem as if I carried it myself in defence of my beloved country. Come with me, Mohammed," said he, taking his friend's arm. "You are in need of rest. You have been deeply moved, and now let us retire. It is quiet within my father's apartments; there we will betake ourselves and repose together."