n clapped his hands, the kislar aga again appeared. "_Her_
head," said he, hesitatingly. The kislar aga waited a little to
ascertain if there was no reprieve, for too hasty a compliance with
despots is almost as dangerous as delay. He caught my eye--he saw at
once that if not her head it would be his own, and he quitted the room.
In a few minutes he held up by its fair tresses the head of my beautiful
rival; I looked at the distorted features, and was satisfied. I
motioned with my hand and the kislar aga withdrew.

"Now, Zara, do you forgive me? Now do you believe that I sincerely love
you, and have I obtained my pardon?"

"Yes," replied I, "I do, sultan; I forgive you all; and now I will
permit you to sit by me and bathe my feet."

From that day I resumed my empire with more despotic power than ever. I
insisted that I should refuse his visits when I felt so inclined, and
when I imagined that there was the slightest degree of satiety on his
part, he was certain to be refused admittance for a fortnight. I became
the depositary of his secrets and the mover of his counsels. My sway
was unlimited, and I never abused it. I loved him, and his honour and
his welfare were the only guides to my conduct.

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

"But your highness will probably be tired; and as I have now told how it
was that I suffered the bastinado, you will perhaps wait till to-morrow
for the history of the bowstring."

"I believe that the old woman is right," said Mustapha, yawning, "it is
late. Is it your highness's pleasure that she shall return to-morrow
evening?"

"Be it so; but let her be in close custody--you remember."

"Be chesm--on my eyes be it. Guards, remove this woman from the sublime
presence."

"It appears to me," said the pacha to Mustapha, "that this old woman's
story may be true. The description of the harem is so correct--
commanding one day, bastinadoed the next."

"Who can doubt the fact, your sublime highness? The Lord of Life
dispenses as he thinks fit."

"Very true; he might send me the bowstring tomorrow."

"Allah forbid!"

"I pray with you; but life is uncertain, and it is our fate. You are my
vizier to-day, for instance--what may you be to-morrow?"

"Whatever your highness may decide," replied Mustapha, not much liking
the turn of the conversation. "Am not I your slave--and as the dirt
under your feet--and shall I not bow to your sover