under the ban of the Empire if he did
not within forty days appear at the Gilded Threshold of the Felicitous
Gate of the Monarch who dispenses crowns to the princes who reign in this
world, in order to justify himself. As may be supposed, submission to
such an order was about the last thing Ali contemplated. As he failed to
appear, the Divan caused the Grand Mufti to launch the thunder of
excommunication against him.

Ali had just arrived at Parga, which he now saw for the third time since
he had obtained it, when his secretaries informed him that only the rod
of Moses could save him from the anger of Pharaoh--a figurative mode of
warning him that he had nothing to hope for. But Ali, counting on his
usual luck, persisted in imagining that he could, once again, escape from
his difficulty by the help of gold and intrigue. Without discontinuing
the pleasures in which he was immersed, he contented himself with sending
presents and humble petitions to Constantinople. But both were alike
useless, for no one even ventured to transmit them to the sultan, who had
sworn to cut off the head of anyone who dared mention the name of Ali
Tepelen in his presence.

Receiving no answer to his overtures, Ali became a prey to terrible
anxiety. As he one day opened the Koran to consult it as to his future,
his divining rod stopped at verse 82, chap. xix., which says, "He doth
flatter himself in vain. He shall appear before our tribunal naked and
bare." Ali closed the book and spat three times into his bosom. He was
yielding to the most dire presentiments, when a courier, arriving from
the capital, informed him that all hope of pardon was lost.

He ordered his galley to be immediately prepared, and left his seraglio,
casting a look of sadness on the beautiful gardens where only yesterday
he had received the homage of his prostrate slaves. He bade farewell to
his wives, saying that he hoped soon to return, and descended to the
shore, where the rowers received him with acclamations. The sail was set
to a favourable breeze, and Ali, leaving the shore he was never to see
again, sailed towards Erevesa, where he hoped to meet the Lord High
Commissioner Maitland. But the time of prosperity had gone by, and the
regard which had once been shown him changed with his fortunes. The
interview he sought was not granted.

The sultan now ordered a fleet to be equipped, which, after Ramadan, was
to disembark troops on the coast of Epirus, whi