This noble jewel was, immediately on its completion, carried to the palace of Mustapha Pasha, whence it was transported to the harem of the Princess by a trusty messenger. No written Word accompanied the gift—it told its own tale—and four-and-twenty hours had not elapsed from the time in which the “mourning bride” clasped it in her turban, ere it was intimated to Mustapha Pasha that he had the permission of his Sublime Highness to return to his Pashalik with all convenient speed. On the morrow he requested his parting audience of the Sultan, when Mahmoud, probably regretting, as he looked upon the noble-minded Mustapha, the wrong which he had been compelled to do him, prevented him as he was in the act of kissing his foot, and, extending towards him his Imperial hand, said blandly:—“Forget the past—it was not the will of Allah that my intention in your favour should be fulfilled; but bear with you my assurance that the esteem which I have long felt for you is undiminished. Your presence is required at Adrianople—I am perfectly content with your government—and two years hence I shall recall you to Stamboul, to bestow on you the hand of my youngest daughter.” The Pasha relinquished his hold of the Imperial fingers: the blood mounted to his brow, and settled there, and the tone was proud, even to haughtiness, with which he answered: “I obey the orders of your Highness: by tomorrow’s dawn I shall be on my way to my Pashalik; while I have life I will do my duty to my Sultan and to my province; but I shall never again aspire to make the happiness of an Imperial Princess—were I ten times more worthy than I am, still should I be no meet husband for a Sultan’s daughter. May the blessing of Allah rest on the representative of the Prophet; and may the hour not be far distant when Mustapha Pasha may lay down in the service of his sovereign a life which has now become valueless!” The high-hearted noble departed from the court, bearing with him the memory of his passion and of his wrong. The Seraskier sought to console the disappointed bridegroom by heaping upon him the most munificent gifts; and the Princess, in the solitude of her harem, yet wastes her hours in tears, gazing upon the portrait of her lost lover, and imploring of the Prophet an early deliverance from the anguish of a breaking heart. CHAPTER X. Yenekeui—The Festival of Fire—Commemorative Observance—Fondness of the Orientals for Illumination—Frequency of Fires in Constantinople—Dangerous Customs—Fire Guard—The Seraskier’s Tower—Disagreeable Alarum—Namik Pasha—The Festival Localized—Veronica—Bonfires—Therapia and Buyukdèrè—Singular Effect of Light—The Armenian Heroine—A Wild Dream.