“If you mean me, Ali, about going to the Cadi,” said the chief eunuch of Mahomed, who was standing by, “let me tell you I am no tale-bearer, and scorn to do an unmanly act. The young prince can beat the Giaours without the aid of those who are noisy enough in a coffee-house when they are quiet enough in the field. And, for the rest of the business, you may all ease your hearts; for the Frangy princess you talk of is pining away, and will soon die. The Sultan has offered a hundred purses of gold to any one who cures her; but the gold will never be counted by the Hasnadar, or I will double it.” “Try your fortune, Hakim,” said several laughing loungers to Iskander. “Allah has stricken the Frangy princess,” said the old Turk with a white beard. “He will strike all Giaours,” said his ancient companion, sipping his coffee. “It is so written.” “Well! I do not like to hear of women slaves pining to death,” said the young Janissary, in a softened tone, “particularly when they are young. Amurath should have ransomed her, or he might have given her to one of his officers, or any young fellow that had particularly distinguished himself.” And so, twirling his mustachios, and flinging down his piastre, the young Janissary strutted out of the coffee-house. “When we were young,” said the old Turk with the white beard to his companion, shaking his head, “when we were young--” “We conquered Anatolia, and never opened our mouths,” rejoined his companion. “I never offered an opinion till I was sixty,” said the old Turk; “and then it was one which had been in our family for a century.” “No wonder Hunniades carries everything before him,” said his companion. “And that accursed Iskander,” said the old man. The chief eunuch, finishing his vase of sherbet, moved away. The Armenian physician followed him. CHAPTER 9 The chief eunuch turned into a burial-ground, through which a way led, by an avenue of cypress-trees, to the quarter of the Seraglio. The Armenian physician, accompanied by his page, followed him. “Noble sir!” said the Armenian physician; “may I trespass for a moment on your lordship’s attention?” “Worthy Hakim, is it you?” replied the chief eunuch, turning round with an encouraging smile of courteous condescension, “your pleasure?” “I would speak to you of important matters,” said the physician. The eunuch carelessly seated himself on a richly-carved tomb, and crossing his legs with an air of pleasant superiority, adjusted a fine emerald that sparkled on his finger, and bade the Hakim address him without hesitation. “I am a physician,” said the Armenian. The eunuch nodded. “And I heard your lordship in the coffee-house mention that the Sultan, our sublime Master, had offered a rich reward to any one who could effect the cure of a favourite captive.” “No less a reward than one hundred purses of gold,” remarked the eunuch. “The reward is proportioned to the exigency of the cue. Believe me, worthy sir, it is desperate.”