n. Merciful God!--why
didst thou permit the blow? Was not I grateful?--Were not my eyes
suffused with tears, springing from gratitude and love, at the very
moment when they rushed in--when their murdering weapons were pointed to
my breast--when the mother shrieked as they tore away the infant as a
useless incumbrance and dashed it to the ground--when I caught it up,
and the pistol of the savage Turk put an end to its existence? I see it
now, as I kissed the little ruby fountain which bubbled from its heart:
I see her too, as they bore her away senseless in their arms. Pacha, in
one short minute I was bereft of all--wife, child, home, liberty, and
reason; and here I am, a madman and a slave!"

The maniac paused: then starting upon his feet, he commenced in a loud
voice:--"But I know who they were--I know them all, and I know where she
is too: and now, pacha, you shall do me justice. This is he who stole
my wife; this is he who murdered my child; this is he who keeps her from
my arms: and thus I beard him in your presence;" and as he finished his
exclamations, he sprang upon the terrified Mustapha, seizing him by the
beard with one hand, while, with the other, he beat his turban about his
head.

The guards rushed in, and rescued the vizier from the awkward position
in which he was placed by his own imprudence, in permitting the man to
appear at the divan.

The rage of the pacha was excessive; and the head of the maniac would
have been separated from his body, had it not been for the prudence of
Mustapha, who was aware that the common people consider idiots and
madmen to be under the special protection of Heaven, and that such an
act would be sufficient to create an insurrection. At his intercession,
the man was taken away by the guards, and not released until he was a
considerable distance from the palace.

"Allah karim!--God is merciful!" exclaimed the pacha as soon as the
maniac had been carried away. "I'm glad that he did not think it was me
who had his wife."

"Allah forbid that your highness should have been so treated. He has
almost ruined the beard of your slave," replied the vizier, adjusting
the folds of his turban.

"Mustapha, make a memorandum never again to accept an offer. I'm
convinced that a volunteer story is worth nothing."

"Your highness speaks the truth--no man parts readily with what is worth
retaining--gold is not kicked up with the sandal, nor diamonds to be
found glittering in the