y
being in countenance a Frank (though I was swarthy enough from my Long
Journeyings), to account for it by saying that I was an Affghan born,
out of India. He died very soon after I settled at Broussa, and the
secret of my being a Christian died with him. It is true that, for mere
Policy's sake, I did go through the Mummeries of outward Mahometans, and
had my Rosary and my Prayer-carpet like other Merchants of Broussa; but
I scornfully deny that I was initiated, or submitted to, any Heathenish
Rites; and I am ready to maintain now, Cut, Thrust, or Backsword, that I
was then as stanch and leal a Protestant as I am now.

Under the name of Gholab Hassan, of Affghanistan, and a True Believer, I
prospered exceedingly, almost entirely forgetting my own country. 'Tis
true I always preserved an affectionate remembrance of my dear Wife
Lilias; but she seemed to me in the guise of some Departed Angel, whom I
had been privileged to behold but for a Short and Transient Period.
Among these Pagans, as is well known, Polygamy is permitted; but that is
neither here nor there; and I was now an Old, Old Man.

'Tis ten years since, namely, A.D. 1770, that a great Insurrection
against the Authority of the Porte, or rather of the Bashaw of the
Province, who had been laying on the Taxes with somewhat too heavy a
hand, broke out in Broussa. The infuriate Populace burnt the House of
the Bashaw about his ears, plundered the Bazaar, and were proceeding to
further extremities, when, a puff of my old Martial Spirit reviving
within me, I collected a trusted band of Porters and Camel-drivers,
rallied the Turkish Troops, who were flying in all directions, reformed
them, scattered the Insurgent Mobile, and did (I promise you) speedy
execution on some Scores of them. The Insurrection was very speedily
subdued, and all Broussa was filled with the praises of my Valour and
Discretion. The Bashaw was a poor Good-natured kind of Creature, Brave
enough, but so Fat that when he mounted on Horseback they were obliged
to put one of the Pillows of his Divan on the pummel of his saddle to
keep his Stomach steady. An end, however, was put to the discomfort he
suffered through Corpulence, by the arrival, three weeks after the
suppression of the Insurrection, of a Tartar Courier, who brought with
him a Bowstring and a Firman from the Grand Seignor. By means of the
Bowstring, the Fat Bashaw was then and there strangled,--for they do
things in a very off-hand manner