ng so too, Mustapha. Who knows but that he may add to the
territory under my sway by another pachalik?"

"I dreamt as much," replied Mustapha, "and I am anxious that the
renegade should come on shore; but it is now dark, and he will not leave
his vessel."

"We must drive away the mists of suspense by the sunbeams of hope,"
replied the pacha. "What am I but the sultan's slave? Shall we not
indulge this evening in the water of the Giaour."

"What saith Hafiz? It is for wine to exalt men, and raise them beyond
uncertainty and doubt. It overfloweth us with courage, and imparts
visions of bliss."

"Wallah thaib, it is well said, Mustapha," said the pacha, taking a cup
of coffee, presented by the Greek slave.

Mustapha also received his cup. "My heart is light this evening," said
the pacha, laying down his pipe, "let us drink deep of the forbidden
juice. Where is it, Mustapha?"

"It is here," replied the vizier, drinking off his coffee; while the
pacha watched him from the corner of his small grey eye. And Mustapha
produced the spirits, which were behind the low ottoman upon which he
was seated.

The pacha put aside his coffee, and drank a large draught. "God is
great; drink, Mustapha," said he, handing him the bottle.

Mustapha followed the example of the pacha. "May it please your
highness," said Mustapha, "I have without a man, who they say hath
stories to recount more delightful than those of Menouni. Hearing that
he passed through this city, I have detained him, that he might afford
amusement to your highness, whose slave I am. Is it your pleasure that
he be admitted?"

"Let it be so," replied the pacha.

Mustapha gave the sign, and to the surprise of the pacha, in came the
renegade, commander of the fleet, accompanied by guards and the
well-known officer of the caliph, the _Capidji Bachi_, who held up a
firman to his forehead.

The pacha turned pale, for he knew that his hour was come. "Bismillah!
In the name of the Most High, O officer, whom seekest thou?" exclaimed
the pacha with emotion.

"The sultan, the Lord of Life, has sent this to you, O pacha! as a proof
of his indulgence and great mercy." And the capidji bachi produced a
silken bowstring, and at the same time he handed the fatal scroll to the
pacha.

"Mustapha," whispered the pacha, "while I read this, collect my guards;
I will resist. I fear not the sultan at this distance, and I can soften
him by presents."

But Mustapha ha