Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, June 20, 1855, Image 1

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The "HUNTINGDON JOURNAL" ix published at
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set- POATMASTERS are required by law
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cations are refused or not culled fir by persons
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to frank all such letters. We will thank post
masters to !mop us posted up in relation to this
*tlcct 'poetry.
[Dedicated to Miss of 11titinplon.1
When pow• in all but youth and low
chtspe4 thee to this beating heart,
And vowed fur wealth and fame to rove,
That we might weep no more to part.
Yearn have gone by—long weary years
Ur toil, to win my station now—
Of ardent hopes and sickening fears.
And wealth is mine—but inhere art thou ?
Fame's dmrsling wreath for thy dear sake
Grew brighter than before to me,
clung to all I thought could make
This toady heart more worthy thee.
Years have gone by—the laurel droops
In mocking o'er my withered brow,
A nominee,' moral before me stoups,
And fame is uthm—but tdarc art flaw ?
In lice's first hour, despised and lone
I wondered through the busy crowd,
And now that life's best joys have flown,
They greet with smiles and murmurs loud.
Oh tier that voice—thy gentle voice,
To breath to me its weleotne new !
Wealth, fame and all that should rejoice,
To me are vaitt—fiir where art thou
,eouiville, Pa. II MO Eter.
BLEntnn, blessed things I.
•Ye are in Heaven and on earth. My soul,
Even with the whirlwind's rush can wanderon
To your immortal reuhu, hut it must fall
Lae your ancient Pleittd from its height,
To dint ita now clad glories iu the dust.
The world go. up, and the world goes down,
And the sunshine follows the rain ;
And yesterday's sneer, and yesterday's frown,
Can never emu over again,
Sweet wife,
No, never come over again.
for woman is warm, though man he cold,
And the night will hallow the day ;
Till the heart which at even was weary and old,
Can rise in the morning gay,
Sweet wire,
To its work in the morning gay.
Tonohing Rhymes, for the Times.
[We found the following lines writton upon
the back of a one dollar bill:
'Tome rest iu my pocket, my last dollar bill !
Tho' the rest are gone from me, I'll cling to
thee still
Thro' temptations boar thee, unchang'd and
Till the Sheriff, light tapping my shoulder, cries
Yet what wart thou made for, if not to be spent?
Thou must e'en go the way that my other bills
went ;
Lifo's pleasures are fleeting, they lire but a day
And liko them, my lasl wonpase
"A Mile word in kindness spoken
'Ms; boat a heart that's e'ennie,t broken,
• • •
*tied Cale.
Abdool was a young Turkish greenhorn,
who was dispatched by his father, with a
handsome assortment of silks and stuffs,
to seek his fortune in Constantinople. A
pleasant voyage accomplished, Abdool
found himself in the gorgeous Stamboul,
where happiness and splendor are reflec
ted in a million different forms. Trans
ported at finding himself his own master,
and not slightly vain of a well filled purse,
and a very handsome, though somewhat
simple visage, the young merchant hired
a splendid stall in the bezestein, furnished
it very handsomely, and displayed his
stuffs for sale. Nor had ho long to wait
for customers. The public charmed with
the acquisition of so easy a dupe, throng
ed his shoji morning, noon and night, un
til finally his very despoilers gave hits the
surname of the Simple, and his fame
spreading over the whole city, invited the
sharks and the crocodiles in still greater
$1 25
1 50
One morning, Abdool the Simple open
ed his last bale of merchandise. Scarce
ly had ho completed his arrangements,
when a cry of "make room, make room,
true believers !" rung through the bezes•
Lein, and a lady, riding on a mule, and sur
rounded by about forty blacks with naked
sabres, entered the market. She was
richly habited, closely veiled, and by her
numerous train, evidently of rank ; which
being observed by the young merchant, he
was surprised to see her stop and dismount
at his threshold, and holding her veil firm
ly to her waist, request the merchant, in a
voice sweet as the bulbul's (nightingale's)
complaining of the rose's inconstancy, to
show her some of his finest stuffs.
Abdool flew to obey the order of that
honied voice; his richest wares—those
most remarkable for the beauty of work.
mans . hip or dye, and exquißi , ely scent .d
—were displayed in great profusion ; and
at length the lady selected as many as she
thought proper, and inquired the price.—
Abdool the Simple, enchanted with the
sweetness of her voice, replied, in some
flowery lines from the Turkish, poet [Wiz,
that the sight of her lovely face would be
a sufficient recompense for the loss of a
'lt is certainly, then, ample payment
for these stuffs said the lady, with a
slight laugh, 'and I take you at your word.
But there are too many persons about us
at present—look to hear farther from me,
and that ere long.'
She then beckoned to a slave, bade him
take the stuffs on his head, turned to the
merchant, nodded gravely, and set off, fol
lowed by her attendants.
Abdool was so intoxicated with the
sweetness of her voice that for some min
utes he remained immovable, bending for
ward in an attitude of profound acknowl
edgetnent. Abdoul the Simple, indeed,
looked pre eminently so; and, as•he recov
ered from his fit of enthusiasm, began to
consider that a glance even in a howl's
face was a very inadequate barter for six
fine stuff's.
In the course of the day Abdool the
Simple find nearly forgotten the lady as
she seemed to have forgotten him. One
evening, however, he beheld two figures
approaching townrds him. One was a
powerful Nubian, not quite black, but of a
dusky leaden complexion, habited richly
in scarlet and blue stuffy, with a yellow
shawl on his turban, and with him came a
young female slave, in the Persian garb,
and closely 'veiled.
This pair approached to Abdool, and
the black, haltir,g opposite his stall, wills.
pered in his ear, that having heard the re
nown of his exceeding wealth and gener
osity, and having a most beautiful Persian
slave to sell he bad taken the liberty to
bring her for purchase to his tnagnifieence.
Confounded by the splendid eulogiums
passed upon his riches and liberality, Ab
dool the Simple invited them ter enter, and
escorted them into a saloon, spread with a
very rich carpet, rnd cushions of purple
silk. There the female slave threw aside
her thick muffles, and, with downcast eyes,
stood before the amazed Abdool—a mira
cle of beauty !
'Site is not dear at three tho'usand gold
pieces, and as many bales of silk said
the Nubian, rubbing his hands.
The words soddenly restored Abdool to
his SODSC: I j he arose with an obvious change
of complexion.
'Let us see her walk,' he said, in a hes
itating manner, hate women that walk
like camels.'
•Walk, Zuliuia I' said the Nubian, whose
name was M tvtapha
-Alas ! she moves like the breath of mu
sic on the flowers !' said poor Abdool, much
perplexed, and still more enamoured.
The charming slave observed his unea
siness, and roguishly increased it by every
means in her power for she seemed resolv
ed it possible to be bought by Abdool.—
She complimented him on his personal
charms, the vivacity of his wit, the gaiety
and grace of his manner, though with lit
tle reason, for Abdool was lost in thought
and perplexity. Meanwhile the merchant
assiduously pointed out the beauties of his
slave to eyes that needed but little direct
ing to find them out.
'But—if I am not mistaken,' said Ab
dool, tremulously, 'she drinks wine. Ho
ly prophet ! what is that she is taking to
her lips, and of which she has poured us
each a cup 1'
'lt is no more wine than the Mufti's
beard said the Nubian, passionately.—
, Tasto it yourself ; it is only rose water, or,
if it be, the sin is mine.'
Abdool tasted—and be tasted again—
and he thought it tasted very like wine,
and of the richest sort; but wasn't for him
to dispute the assurances of a man so much
older and more experienced than himself ;
and the laughing pledge of the bright
eyes of Zulima, as she drained her cup,
and chucked the drops into her mouth, as
if unwilling to lose the least portion.
The melancholy position in which lie
found himself, prevented Abdool from en
joying the pleasure which such charming
society was likely to produce ; if he avow
ed his delight, what excuse could he make
to the merchant for not concluding the
purchase ?
Meanwhile time wore on, and Abdool
felt the expediency of coming to some de
cision, to save his credit. In fact Abdool
began to feel fuddled. After musing on a
variety of faults appropriate to women,
none of which could by any possibility
find in Zulima, 'Excellent Mustapha!' he
said at length, cannot but agree with
you that the slave is well worth the trifle
you ask for her. But it is not beauty I
require at present; my harem is a dower
garden, comparable to those of Giamschidr
'No more of this. Wilt you buy her or
not ?' said the merchant, advancing with
his hand on his sabre.
'Take all I have ! I hare half a bale
of the richest silks and cashmere shawls;
and when the lady pays me who bought
the other half yesterday, you shall have—"
'What is she to give you for them ?"
said the Nubian, attentively,
'Alas I' said Abdool, coloring at the re.
collection of his folly, 'only a look at her
face I'
'The prophet has given this man's brains
to a butterfly,' said the merchant, in a tone
of mingled rage and contempt. The fair
slave, meanwhile, tremblingly followed
him to the door. Convinced then that he
was about to lose sight of that divine beau.
ty forever, and completely vanquished by
love and grief, Abdool threw himself at
the slave merchant's feet, and exclaimed—
Since I cannot purchase her, let me
sell myself, and become your slave, mere
ly for the happiness of serving the same
'lf I buy such a simpleton, I must have
something in with you,' said the merchant,
disdainfully. 'When the lady pays you
for her stuffs, bring the money into the
bargain, and I May perhaps accept you as
a slave.'
And, laughing hoarsely; he stepped
forth, dragging the fair slave with him,
who seemed touched with his last strong•
mark of affection for she looked back re
peatedly as she crossed the bazaar with
her master. The despairing Abdool gaz
ed after them until they were fairly out of
sight ; and then with a profound sigh re
entered his dwelling.
Time passed on, and Abdool had nearly
forgotten all about the lady who had appa
rently cheated him out of his stuff's, when
one noon-day a porter, carrying a heavy
casket, made his appearance. "Be pleas
ed to count the contents," he said, ' , and
give me a receipt. It is from the lady
who bought your stuffs ; and she is so de
lighted with your civility in trusting her,
that she has doubled the sum for which
she purchased them t
Abdool was so stupid with grief that he
contented himself with merely emptying
the casket into his lap, and giving the por
ter a handful of pieces, he was left once
more to his meditations.
In the midst of his reverie a shadow
soddenly darkened his downcast eye-lids,
and the loud, lusty voice of the Nubian
saluted him.
'Wealth makes wants, but hat Mos none.
Has the richest of men repented that he
did not rather gather the real fruits of
beauty,, than the painted glass of the geni-
us of gold r
Abdool started up in a flutter of delight.
have repented of nothing,' In said.—
, The lady has paid me for the stuffs, and I
am now in a condition, as I imagine, to buy
the houri, your slave.'
'Let us see,' replied the merchant, de
liberately ; and with a calm and calcula
ting look, began counting the pieces.
'Here are seven hundred pieces of geld,
and belles many of silver,' said the Nubi
an. "Do you dream to purchase that
priceless slave with this beggerly sum,
which is scarcely sufficient for an oily ne
gress of Ethiopia ?'
'Let me purchase, then, at least, the
right to be your slave, along with the ador
ed Zulima I' returned Abdool
keep my slaves in good order ; they
seldom see me without the chiboulc, said
the Nubian ; "and I have sold the slave
Zulima to a rich emir.' Abdool immedi
ately threw himself upon his face, and
.wept with such vigor that the Merchant
seemed somewhat moved. 'lf it will be
any consolation for you to see her again,
and you will give me this trifle you have
received for my pains, I think I can con
trive it,' he said at last.
Abdool looked up sorrowfully, but at
tentively, and instantly threw the money
over to him in a turban.
'Can you play on any instrument ?' ask.
ed the merchant, thoughtfully.
'On the theorbo,' replied Abdool.
'Very well. lam a dealer also tire
musical cattle supplied for the entefin
meat of seraglios; you shall accomtfany
me to that of the noblemua of whom I
speak ; and if you play your part well,
your head will be in very little danger,
and I will find some excuse not to sell you,
whether they approve your performance
or not'
Ab 100 l procured a suitable drrsq. The
Nubian then commanded his new slave to
follow, and led the way to the En show,
where he embarked in a little boat, rowed
by two !flutes, which he himsel: steered.
Atter a time, Abdool observed at t: distance
a palace or vast extent, ornamented with to t.!,t,
.To whom belongs this magnificent
structure—to some genie said Abdool, in
great admiration,
gTo a vizier, and favorite of the sultan-;
a man so exceedingly jealous and feroci
ous, that notwithstanding the character in
which you go, where ho not absent, I
should not dare to introduce you in his ha
rem,' replied the Nubian.
Abdool was but little alarmed at this
statement, for his thoughts were absorbed
in the prospect of seeing Znlima again
They landed at ono of the stairs, and as
cending it together, the Nubian halted in
the midst of a large open dome, of white
marble, supported on pillars of the same
material, richly carved and silvered in the
Abdool had scarcely satiated his gaze
with the sight of all this splendor, when
his ears were saluted with a soft flourish of
dulcimers ; and a great number of ladies
app.ared in various directions, ascending
the steps towards the saloon. They were
all veiled; but as they came on laughing
and chatting together, Abdool, alarmed at
the eight of so many ladies, and so richly
clad, would have retreated. !Fool !' whis•
pored the black, !stand firm, or you tell
cause both our ruins ! And tell me which
is Zulima.'
Looking up at the beloved name, Ab•
dool, after an instant's scrutiny, perceived
a figure which he did net for an instant
doubt was that of the fair slave; and pros
trating himself at her feet, as she advan
ced with a number of her companions, the
Nubian introduced him as as Egyptian
eunuch perfectly skilled in the theorbo,
for whom ho entreated their favor. The
ladies laughed pleasantly. and Zulima ex
claiming, •Let us unveil then, and take the
air,' threw off her veil, and the rest imita
ting her example disclosed such a diversi
ty of beauty, that Abdool believed he was
transported among the houries of paradise;
but the loveliest were undoubtedly the
Persian Zulima, the lonian Aphrodite, and
the Indian girl, Nourmahal, so famous for
her brilliant eyes.
'lt is the same, Nourmahal, that was
t)o poor to purchase me I' said Zulima,
laughing satirically; but at the same mo
ment she turned and whispered to A bdoel,
perceive your artifice, and applaud it,
most faithful of lovers I'
Enraptured beyond measure at his re
ception, Abdool prostrated himself repeat
edly ; and the ladies, seated themselves on
their solos, when a slave suddenly appear
ed rushing up the steps, and calling ns
loudly as he could, for speed and exhaus
tion—'The vizier!—the vizier !'
At this cry, all stood aghast. and Abdool
almost telt the stroke of a sabre on his
'Cover him in the carpet !' exclaimed.
Zulima ; and at a signal from her white
hand, four blacks rushed forward, seized
Abdool, who made no resistance in the be
wilderment, and among them they rolled
him up in a mummy shape, and marched
off with their burden at the moment when
the clash of cymbals announced the arri
val of the vizier.
Abdool was congratulating himself as he
was carried away, though nearly smother
ed, when suddenly a dreadful voice called
to the slaves to stop.
But here we must observe that this pan
' ic was only part of a preconcerted plan.—
Although Abdool the Simple was very far
from imagining himself guilty of so un
speakable a sacrilege, he was now in the
seraglio of the magnificent Sultan Soly
man, who was absent from his capital en
gaged in the extirpation of the misbeliev
ing Gebers of Persia, with his famous vi
zia r, Ibrahim. Zulinta was one of the
Sultan's favorites, and the Nubian was no
less a person titan the chief of the eunuchs,
Mustaphn, so renowned for his facetious
sayings. It was one of Mustapha's theo
ries, that the only way to keep women out
of mischief was to amuse them ; and,
struck with Zulima's extraordinary account
of the stuff.merchant—for it was elm who
had purchased the bale of him—and being
a personage exceedingly fond of practical
jokes, lie had, with rare imprudence, fal
len into her plans of diverting herself, and
the other ladies of the harem, at the ex
pense of the simple Abdool.
'What ! nre you hurrying from my
sight ?' again demanded the voice, which
was, Iti truth, that of Mustapha Aga coun
terfeiting another.
.Let my lord forgive his slave !' return
ed Zurima, sinking on the ground at the
vizier's feet. Since I must needs tell the
truth, I will. I have broken my theorbu
in a hi of passion, because, being hung in
a damp place, it was out of tune; and
ashamed of my unreasonable violence,
desired Mustapha to send it to some musi•
clan of his acquaintance, who might put
'Take it then, Alustapha, and let your
friend repair the damage without loss of
time, tor t..1c0 much pleasure in hearing
Zulima play ; two of my gardeners shall
help you.' Abdool, who had listened to
this dialogue in speechless terror, found
himself lifted in the arms of two stout
slaves, and carried along as a theorbo.—
But having no doubt that Mustapha would
provide for his liberation, he stiffened him
self as much as possible to represent the
It seemed the unlucky theorbo was sent
to a certain musician of the city to be re
paired ; an old, shriveled man, like most of
his tribe, very peevish, and absorbed in his
pursuits. He was in his shop, busily en
gaged in tuning the strings of a cittern,
bent nearly double over it, with his ear to
the opening, and tinkling the wires with
his long yellow nails. The slaves, with
out the least respect to his anxiety, enter
ed with their burden, and flung it care
lessly down on the carpet. 'Hark you,
mummy !' said the foremost, striking the
musician familiarly on the back with his
lance, "the vizier's lady hes broken her
theorbo, and you are to mend it before sun
set, or you will find your neck in a bow-
.flay the vizier's lady be saved eternal
ly !' said the musician, shaking with in.
dignation :—..and the messengers damned
for the same period !' he added, as the
slaves quitted his door; and then betiding
his back again nearly double, he resumed
his eternal tink.tink-tink.
In the midst of the most melancholy re
flections, Abdool expected every moment
that Ebn Iladjee, us the musician was cal.
led, would seize upon him. But Ebn, ab
sorbed in tuning the cittern, scarcely is.
collected the vizier's order until he had
completed the task to his satisfaction.—
But suddenly recollecting the peremptory
nature of the command, he cursed his for
getfulness aloud, and began searching for
some tool which he appeared to have lost.
Abdool fervently hoped that the search
might lead him into another chamber, and
was not disappointed in this one expects.
tion ; fur the musician not being able to
find his tool, went into a closet to look for
another. The theorbo immediately took
advantage of this movement, of gliding
out of his carpet, and hiding himself among
some straw in which the musician usually
Ile had scarcely concealed himself era
Dm returned with his tools, and thought•
fully unrolled the carpet—,a sudden cry
•announced his discovery of the 113ss. The
cry instantly attracted the notice of some
passers-by, who entered the shop, and ea
' gerly inqaired the reason of the disturb.
once. Unluckily fur AlRlool, among the
kind persons who run in was a dog, which
came with the rest- to ascertain the cause
of the uproar, and quickly snuffed him out
in his straw. A bdool was dragged head
foremost from his concealment, and stood
aghast before a crowd, who saluted him as
a robber.
'Where is the theorbo, abhorred by all
men ?' shouted Ebn, shaking his fist in a
palsy of rage ; and Abdool the Simple
was hurried off, without being heard a
single ward in justification,'almost without
attempting one, to the presence of the Ca
di, saluted by the crowd with more exe
crations than would have been sufficient
for them altogether. When questioned
by the magistrate, Abdool declared that
he himself was the theorbo ! at which an
nouncement the audience burst into a peal
of laughter, from which the judge himself
with difficulty refrained.
'Cut oft his right hand, and throw him
into the sea I.' said the Cadt ; and Abdool
was immediately hurried out upon a stone
balcony adjoining the Cadi's place of judg
meat, in the midst of which was a steel
block, upon which lay a hatchet, a bow
string, and a knife to perform amputations.
'l'he executioner, who was a negro, over
come hy•the heat of the day, had fallen
fast asleep in the sun ; the guards went to
wake the negro to his task, execrating his
laziness ; Abdool glanced at the deep wa
ters, then at the executioner, who, clad in
a buffalo's skin, thickly clotted with blood,
awoke grumblingly from his sweet sleep.
The sight gave him courage, and while
the guards were occupied in explaining
their mission to the yawning negro, Ab
dool slung himself softly over a balustrade,
slid down one of the pillars, and dived
deeply and silently as a fish into the
was, spicing care net to rise again until
he was at too great a distance to be observ
ed. 'Phe guards and the executioner sud
denly looking round, perceived that the
prisoner wan gone, and had no doubt that
be had effected his escape; but to conceal
their carelessness, they agreed among
themselves to declare that the sentence
sun executed, sod fortunately there hap
! petted to be two or three dead bodies ly
about, which the black bad been too
lazy to remove, front which they selected
n suitable hand.
Meanwhile, the ladies in the seraglio
were in high good humor, expecting to
hear a laughable account of the scene be
tween Ebn and his living theorbo, when
Mustapha entered the harem with a very
angry countenance. The women, cling
ing about him, entreated him, for a long
time in vain, to tell them what had hap
pened. At last he complied, and the grief
and compassion of those gentle creatures
knew no bounds.
Meanwhile, the object of all this kind.
ness swain till his strength was nearly ex
hausted ; but as he tad now reached a part
of the shore principally occupied by the
gardens of wealthy citizens, lie landed
without much danger, in an olive grove.
Flying lie knew not whither, and en
tangled in the mazes of those vast gar
dens., Abdool at length came to a path
which ho hoped would conduct hint to
some exit. As lie ran along it, with the
rapidity of a heron flying from a hawk,
he suddenly came upon two dervises who
were driving an ass before them, as if they
were going to the palace to beg charity.--
The confusion and agitation with which
Abdool inquired if they would direct him
how to leave those accursed premises, in
stantly attracted their attention.
'We were goinz to beg charity, but we
will rather bestow it,' returned one of the
dervises, with a scrutinizing look. 'We
will guide you out, on condition that you
tell us by what means and for what pur
pose you are in.'
Touched by the kindness of these holy
men, and at the same time burning w;th
grief and indignation, Abdool solemnly
promised that if they would accompany
him to his home, he would satisfy their cu
riosity, and divide between them the little
property lie had remaining. The dervi
ses readily consented, and Ahidool had the
satisfaction in a few minutes to find him
self in the city, whence he easily hound
his way to his own honse.
lie fulfilled his promised revelations
amply, and the dervises listened with ma
ny expressions of wonder and incredulity,
until the circumstantial narration of Ab
dool obliged them to believe hint. The
countenance of ono of the dervises grew
of red hot bronze; and yet at times he
could not refrain from laughing at the sin
gularity of the adventures which Abdool
the .‘,:itnple had undergone. At last, hav
ing satisfied himself by the numerous
questions of the truth of what Ito had
heard, and moreover that the young man
was Ignorant into whose seraglio he liad
intruded ; the chief dervisc 1... , due. very
VOL. 20. NO. 25.
grave. Both gave Abdool much good ad.
vice, and after a time, alleging the neces
sity of attending prayers in the mosque,
they went their ways.
Almost an hour .had elapsed after their
departure, and Abdool was about to com
pose his wearied limbs to rest, when he
was alarmed by hearing a loud knock at
the door. Opening it, he perceived with
unqealtable consternation a great number
of the bostangis, or armed police, comman
ded by one on horseback, in an extremely
rich garb. Without uttering a word in
explanation, the bostangis .seized, bound
him hand and foot, bandaged his eyes, and
carried him among them to a considerable
distance, when they suddenly released
Abdool found himself alone in a splen
did apartment, but he had scarcely stood
for a moment, wondering where he was
when a door opened, and Mustapha Aga
appeared, tremulously following the officer
who had arrested Abdool.
'This is the wretch, excellent Musta
pha, faithful guardian of the most slippery
of things—women,' said the officer : the
wretch whose boastings have reached the
sublime ear, who gives out that he has
been an honored guest in the seraglio du-
ring our lord's absence.'
, The monster !' groaned Mustapha.
.The sultan may be every instant expec
ted. and lie will do justice,' returned the
officer. , Meanwhile he has commanded
me that I accompany you and this traitor
throughout the harem, and see if he really
has the knowledge which he pretends in
'Mirror of thy master, sublime Ibrahim!
let us see whether the villain has the im
pudence ; but I imagine he is out of his
mind !' said Mustapha
Abdool stared is' dumb amazement on
this revelation, and now more than suspec
ting that he had been made the victim of a
perfidious jest, still lie regectod with hor
ror on the dreadful punishment to which,
in all likelihood, Zulima would be exposed.
Mustapha was so agitated that he scarcely
knew whether he ,went on his head or on
his feet ; but he purposely led the way in
tilt, first place, to the women's apartment.
Ibrahim, (for it was the great vizier him
self,) he knew, dared not enter the sacred
precincts; and under pretence of ascertain
ing whether the wretch pretended to have
been within the oda, he led him is. 'rite
women all threw thems,lves at Ahdool's
feet, and with sobs and tears implored him
to have mercy on them. Alustapha join
ed, in the most deplorable manner ; but
Abdool's heart remained steeled, while
Zulima, Ndirmahal, and Aphrodite knelt
and embra-ing his knees with streaming
eyes, and with their fair cheeks crimson
with anxiety—large eyes glittering, and
bosoms wildly palpitating; but when Zu
lima threw herself on his neck and exclai
med, 'Drop a tear, at least, in the sea
which shall soon swallow me memory
of one who loved you,' he we cvercome.
I know not who can have infused sus
picion into the sultan, unless it was oue of
the treacherous dorvises ho said. 'Be not
afraid, I will deny all.' •
At this moment the clash of drums and
cymbals was heard, and a slave rushed in
to announce that the sultan had arrived,
and was coming immediately to visit
his ladies, to receive their compliments
on his return. ,- .:omforted by Abdool'a
promise, the odaliskas had scarcely time
to smoothen their tigitaied features ere the
great Solyman, in all his glory and majes
ty, attended by all the mutes of the serag-
Ito, with their b,ewstrings ready set, and
the grand vizier, Ibrahim, carrying three
sacks, entered.
'Let the slave who related that he had
been made the-guest of a certain vizier's
seraglio, inform me if he recognizes this
place and these persons !' said the sultan,
in a tremendous tone, and all present fell
prostrate, wishing it might be into some
bottomless gulf.
Abdool raised himself, at length, shod
tiering, ovithout darieg to iift his eye, de
clared that he had never made any such
statement to any dervise.
Look at tile, fool, but good-natured! and
deny it again ! returned the sultan; and
glancing fearfully up, with a start of hor
ror, A bdool recognized the dervise in the
ighty sovereign himself ! He ceald not,
of course, utter another word; and the sul
tan commanded the mutes instantly to
. put
Zulima, Nourmabal, and Aphrodite into
the sacks, and throw them into the sea,
while the bow was fitted round the neck
or Muatapha. The sultan himself opened
a window up to which the green waves of
the sea flowed; and with shrieks of despair
the unhappy ladies were stripped of their
ornaments, and thrust into the sacks, while
the rest of the harem looked on with tears
and sobs.
'!'he dismal sight quite overcame all fee
ling of revenge in Abdool's heart. He
prostrated himself at the sultan's feet, and
In mpiteous voice implored mercy. The
sultan inquired if he were willing to perish
in the place of the three ladies rThis was
a dreadful moment ; hut Abdool the Sim
ple very frankly consented.
'You shall do worse than die for them !
said the sultan, after a pause of the most
intense excitement— , you shall live with
thorn ! I give them to you all three for
1 your wives and appoint you the care of my
silk-worms, wl4ich is a post of great honer
and profit. and requires no exertion of sur
f passing genies. As for you, Mustapha
Aga, if in a mouth ydu do not find 1130
woman wore beautiful than all these three
put together, the bowstring shall be drawn
which, until then, you are to carry about
1 with you on yuur neck.'