"You have now transferred it to our shoulders," exclaimed the tschorbadji, ardently. "See how happy my Osman looks; how his countenance is wreathed in smiles! There is no trace of sorrow or pain in his features now; joy is restoring him to health; and I owe this to you, and shall continue to thank you for it, when you are no longer here. We wish you all happiness! Our friend and benefactor, the great general, Cousrouf Pacha, will in the future be called on to perform great things, and the report of his glory and power will reach us here on our peninsula." "I hope it may," said the pacha, softly, as he proudly inclined his head. "Yes, I hope it may. My glory will resound throughout the world, and may, perhaps, be trumpeted forth by the virgin Fame, so favorable to me, even here in this rocky nest. The imperial majesty in Stamboul has elected me to great things, and Allah will permit me to live to fulfil them." "He will certainly do so," protested the governor.--"And now, my son, with his excellency's permission, I will call the slaves, and have you carried down again. I am afraid we are trespassing on valuable time, as his excellency will have many things to attend to." The pacha assented to this by his silence, and the governor hastened to call the slaves, that they might bear his son down into the garden. The pacha pressed Osman's hand once more, assured him of his friendship, and promised him solemnly that Mohammed need no longer be fearful and anxious. "And he is not," cried Osman, quickly; "he fears nothing." "Be still, my son," exclaimed the governor, interrupting him hastily; "his excellency only means that he will be considerate with him, and that you will have nothing to fear on Mohammed's account. And now, come, let us go." He then bowed profoundly to the pacha, and walked out beside the couch on which the slaves were carrying his son. The pacha's countenance grew still darker when the door had closed behind father and son. "This Osman is shrewd," he murmured to himself. "He knows how to divine one's thoughts.--Achmed and Ali, come in!" The eunuchs glided in through the side-entrance, and remained standing near the door, their heads profoundly inclined. He slowly raised his hand, and beckoned to them to come nearer. "What progress have you made in your search?" The eunuchs threw themselves on the floor, profound humiliation depicted on their faces. "Mighty and gracious master! we have been tardy slaves, and humbly acknowledge our fault; we will do all we can to redeem it, and we hope soon to bring better news. Yes, we hope, gracious master, that we shall soon be able to announce what our master desires to know." "Then you have a trace?" said the pacha, his countenance lighting up with joy. "Yes, master, as yet only a trace; but we hope soon to have certainty."