upon this
point, it then occurred to me, that I might as well get a few sequins by
the exchange, and make my appearance before the pacha, with one or two
of the heads of the janissaries, who were lying close to me. I
therefore divested myself of whatever might give the idea of my
belonging to the corps, took off the heads and rifled the pockets of
three janissaries, and was about to depart, when I thought of my
honoured father, and turned back to take a last farewell. It was cruel
to part with a parent, and I could not make up my mind to part with him
altogether, so I added his head, and the contents of his sash, to those
of the other three, and smearing my face and person with blood, with my
scimitar in my hand, and the four heads tied up in a bundle, made my way
for the pacha's stronghold; but the skirmishing was still going on
outside of the walls, and I narrowly escaped a corps of janissaries, who
would have recognised me. As it was, two of them followed me as I made
for the gate of the fortress; and, encumbered as I was, I was forced to
turn at bay. No man fights better than he who finds himself hard
pressed; and even a man who otherwise would not fight at all, will fight
well, when he can't help it. I never was so brave in my life. I cut
down one, and the other ran away, and this in the presence of the pacha,
who was seated on the embrasure at the top of the wall; and thus I
gained my entrance into the fort. I hastened to the pacha's presence,
and laid at his feet the four heads. The pacha was so pleased at my
extraordinary valour, that he threw me a purse of five hundred pieces of
gold, and ordered me to be promoted, asking me to what division of his
troops I belonged. I replied, that I was a volunteer. I was made an
officer; and thus did I find myself a rich man and a man of consequence
by merely changing sides.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That's not quite so uncommon a method of getting on in the world as you
may imagine," observed Mustapha, drily.

"Mustapha," said the pacha, almost gasping, "all these are words, wind--
bosh. By the fountains that play round the throne of Mahomet, but my
throat feels as hot and as dry with this fellow's doubts, as if it were
paved with live cinders. I doubt whether we shall be able ever to
moisten it again."

"That doubt your sublimity ought to resolve immediately. Hudusi,
Murakhas--my friend, you are dismissed."