On the following morning howls and lamentations are heard in the lower apartments of the harem; from time to time the sound of blows can be distinguished, and then again howls and cries of pain.

No one dares inquire into the cause of these outcries, for in his own apartments Cousrouf Pacha is master, and even the governor would not venture to call him to account for his treatment of his own servants.

Osman lay on his cushions in the little portion of his garden that had alone been reserved for the use of himself and father, since Cousrouf Pacha had been occupying the remainder with his harem. He heard the howls and cries of pain that came from the harem, and bowed his head in sadness.

"These poor wretches must suffer for it!" he murmured to himself.

But suddenly his countenance brightens, as he sees his friend approaching in his glittering uniform, and he extends both hands to greet him.

"I am delighted to see you, Mohammed, after this long absence!"

"As I am you!" said the latter, his countenance radiant with smiles.

"Forgive me for not having come to see you all day yesterday. I was so busy with my soldiers, and still more so with myself, Osman! I have had much to learn to keep the soldiers from observing that I was a mere beginner in the art of war."

"And that is all you have to say in excuse for your conduct?" said Osman, looking searchingly into his friend's countenance.

"That is all," replied he, hastily, endeavoring to look his friend full in the face. But be could not, and looked aside.

Osman notices this, and nods his head with a smile full of meaning.

"Pray seat yourself at my side Mohammed? Let me throw my arm around your neck, and then listen to me, my friend. Offer no resistance, for I must confess that your friend Osman has been employing spies for some time past, and be knows more than Mohammed supposes, and much more than Consrouf Pacha dreams of."

"What do you know?" asked Mohammed, trembling slightly. "I pray you tell me, Osman!"

"Listen, Mohammed," said Osman, bending toward him, in a low voice.

"Lamentations have just resounded from the interior of the pacha's harem. Two of his eunuchs have received the bastinado, and do you know why? Because they could not inform him where Mohammed Ali passed the last and the preceding night."

"For that reason?" asked Mohammed. "I was in my house. If Cousrouf Pacha had himself asked me, I should have told him I was there!"

Osman gently shook his head. "No, Mohammed, you were not in your house; and Cousrouf Pacha well knows you were not. Do you know why?

He lighted a lamp to look for you."

"A lamp?" asked Mohammed.

"Yes, a lamp! And do you know what this lamp consisted of? Of the house that stood opposite yours. They set it on fire, and knocked at your doors and window shutters to awaken you.--And, if you had been there, you would have heard the outcries of the people, and would assuredly have gone to their assistance. No, Mohammed, you were not in your house last night!"

"I was above, on the summit of the rock," said Mohammed, hastily, and in a somewhat embarrassed manner.

"No," said Osman, gently. "You forget, Mohammed, that you came down in the evening with the four pigeons you had shot, and you also forget that you went on down to Praousta as it grew dark."

"No," said Mohammed, hastily, "no, that I did not do!"

"Yes, you did, my friend," said Osman, quietly. "A cripple stood by the way-side, whom you brushed against in passing by; he cursed you, and followed you for a while, continually cursing, but you walked on without heeding him."

Mohammed looked at him in dismay. "How do you know all this?"

"I told you before that I had spies who watched both you and the pacha. I employ them because I love and wish to protect my Mohammed!" He placed his lips close to his ear, and whispered: "To protect you and the white dove that has sought safety in your bosom.

Be still! Do not deny me this favor! Consider that your happiness is also that of your friend, and that he watches over you when you are imprudent in the rashness of your overflowing bliss. Listen, Mohammed! You went down to the sea-shore, to the secret place among the cliffs, known only to you and me! Do you not remember the time when, filled with anxiety on your account, we were seeking you in that vicinity, and Mr. Lion saw you creep out of a crevice in the rocks? You afterward pointed out to me the place to which it led, and--"

"For Heaven's sake, mention to no one that there is a cave there, and that you know the way to it!" said Mohammed, anxiously.

"Did I not tell you that I was watching over you?" said his friend, gently. "No one shall hear of it, only be careful yourself that no one sees you enter it. You are surrounded by spies. Cousrouf Pacha is called away, and the ship lies in the harbor awaiting him. And do you know what he told the captain who asked him if he would sail to- day? He replied 'It is uncertain, it depends on circumstances not entirely within my control.' Do you know what that means? He will not sail until he has discovered and punished Masa, the runaway slave, as he calls her. Do you know the nature of the punishment administered to runaway female slaves, and to women who have been guilty of infidelity to their masters?"

Mohammed shuddered. "By Allah, Osman, you do not mean to say that the pacha would carry out here, with us, where the cruel laws of the harem are unknown, the punishment administered to runaway female slaves among the Turks?"

Osman nodded in assent. "You must know, Mohammed, that the commander, now fully restored to the favor of the imperial majesty, in Stamboul, has the right, wherever he may be, to punish his slaves, that is, his property, as he pleases. To save her father, Masa made herself his property. We, my father and I, were witnesses, when she received the money, and when he said to her: 'Here is the money you asked me for! I give it gladly, but you know what I give it for, and you have agreed to the bargain!'"

"O unhappy woman!" groaned Mohammed.

"Be still, my Mohammed!" said Osman, in warning tones. "Be on your guard! You are beset with spies, for these eunuchs are battling for their lives. If they have not restored Masa alive to their master in a week, their heads fall; he has sworn this, and they know he will keep his word. They are cunning, and have sharp eyes. Mohammed, if you can avoid it, do not go down into the grotto to-day. Everything pends on deceiving the spies and putting them on a false track.

Therefore, pass the night in your own house."

"Impossible! quite impossible!" said Mohammed, his eyes kindling at the thought of his love. "It cannot be, even if it should cost my heart's blood! I cannot remain in my house."

"Then remain with me. Do so for her sake. I tell you your white dove is in danger! I am better informed than the rest, for I have in my service a spy, a good angel, whose eyes rest neither by day nor night, and whose ears hear everything that concerns Mohammed Ali."

"And who is this angel? " asked Mohammed.

"You know her well," said Osman. "It is Marina, my dear cousin. She often goes into the pacha's harem, and has formed the acquaintance of two of the young women, who tell her a great many things in their thoughtlessness. Nothing escapes Marina's ear, for I will confess, my friend, that she loves the young boulouk bashi, and is ready to separate herself from her jealous husband on his account. But I candidly told her that he did not love her, and that she must bury her wishes. She wept long, Mohammed, but when she had dried her eyes, she said she loved him so dearly that she would do all that lay in her power to secure his happiness, and that she would watch over him as his friend."

"She is a noble woman," said Mohammed. "Bear my greeting to her, but I pray you tell her nothing more concerning me."

"You may rest assured," said Osman. "We do not confide our dearest secrets to women, for we are not always certain of their silence.

She knows nothing, except that the pacha is your enemy, and that the latter has told these women that he is seeking an opportunity to destroy you. You have often offended him with your hasty words and threatening manner, and Cousrouf Pacha is not the man to pardon any offence. Marina is well aware of this, and therefore observes and listens to everything."

"Does Cousrouf Pacha know that there is any connection between me and Masa?"

"Yes, he is a close observer, and, on the morning of the flight, he read in your countenance, as I also did, that there was no happier man in Cavalla than Mohammed Ali. But yesterday his countenance was gloomy, to-day it is radiant. Cousrouf Pacha did not fail to divine the cause of this sudden transformation. Therefore be on your guard, my friend, and wait until it is dark and all are asleep before you go to your cave."

"I will do so; I will be careful, Osman--I swear it. Accept my warmest thanks for your care and watchfulness. Allah will some day enable me to prove my gratitude, and will also permit you to be a witness of your friend's happiness. And now, farewell, and to- morrow, if it be Allah's will, I shall return to you in joyousness and safety."

"May Allah grant it!" said Osman. "Allah be with you, and the prophet illumine your heart! One thing more, my Mohammed: Lovers, it is said, are forgetful; the warning voice easily escapes, their hearing, and with open eyes they dream blissful dreams which make them oblivious of reality. It may therefore be well to arouse them sometimes, and I will try to awaken my dear dreamer. If you hear the report of a pistol in the night, consider that it is Osman warning you to be on your guard. But if two other shots soon after follow the first, this signal shall announce that danger threatens, and that I am calling you. In that case, come to me at once, no matter what time of night it may be. I shall await you. Now you may go, my friend, and Allah be with you!"

CHAPTER XI

THE TRIPLE OATH.

"We must assure his safety," murmured Osman, as he looked after his friend, who was hastily leaving the garden. "His life must at least be sacred, and I will go at once with my father to Cousrouf Pacha.

It is a sacrifice, for I hate this proud, overbearing man. He seems to consider himself as conferring a favor when he condescends to accept our hospitality. I hate him! Yet I will humiliate myself for my friend's sake, and play the humble and devoted servant. I shall find strength to do so, for it is for Mohammed and his white dove.

Yes, I will go with my father to the pacha's apartments."

A quarter of an hour later Tschorbadji Hassan, with a startled and sorrowful expression of countenance entered the room where Cousrouf Pacha lay reclining on his soft cushions, dreamily smoking his chibouque.

"Is it, then, really true? The whole house is filled with dismay and regret. Is it true that you intend leaving us tomorrow?"