ever-heat. She was not
possessed of a cool judgment, which would have told her that Ibrahim was
a statesman dealing with the external affairs of the Sublime Porte, and
that with her and with her affairs he neither desired, nor had he the
power, to interfere. What, however, the Sultana did know was that in
these same affairs of State her opinion was dust in the balance when
weighed against that of the Grand Vizier.

Soliman had that true attribute of supreme greatness, the unerring
aptitude for the choice of the right man. He had picked out Ibrahim from
among his immense entourage, and never once had he regretted his choice.
As time went on and the intellect and power of the man became more and
more revealed to his master, that sovereign left in his hands even such
matters as despots are apt to guard most jealously. We have seen how, in
spite of the murmurings of the whole of his capital, and the almost
insubordinate attitude of his navy, he had persevered in the appointment
of Kheyr-ed-Din Barbarossa, because the judgment of Ibrahim was in favor
of its being carried out. This, to Roxalana, was gall and wormwood; well
she knew that, as long as the Grand Vizier lived, her sovereignty was at
best but a divided one. There was a point at which her blandishments
stopped short; this was when she found that her opinion did not coincide
with that of the minister. She was, as we have seen in the instance of
her son, not a woman to stick at trifles, and she decided that Ibrahim
must die.

There could be no hole-and-corner business about this; he must die, and
when his murder had been accomplished she would boldly avow to her lover
what she had done and take the consequences, believing in her power over
him to come scatheless out of the adventure. In those days, when human
life was so cheap, she might have asked for the death of almost any one,
and her whim would have been gratified by a lover who had not hesitated
to put to death his own son at her dictation. But with Ibrahim it was
another matter; he was the familiar of the Sultan, his _alter ego_ in
fact. It says much for the nerve of the Sultana that she dared so
greatly on this memorable and lamentable occasion.

On March 5th, 1536, Ibrahim went to the royal seraglio, and, following
his ancient custom, was admitted to the table of his master, sleeping
after the meal at his side. At least so it was supposed, but none knew
save those engaged in the murder what passed on that f