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"Our master does," said they "our master, Cousrouf Pacha." "How can the stranger dare to call the daughter of a free man, a free girl, his slave?" "He dares do it because it is so," replied the eunuchs, shrugging their shoulders; "Masa sold herself to his excellency, our gracious master, to Cousrouf Pacha, when she procured your release by paying the second tax.
This I can swear, too, Mohammed, that my heart will remain true to you, and that I will rather die, than of my own free will allow another man to raise my veil." "And this I can swear, Masa, that you shall not die," said, he, and his voice sounded almost harsh and threatening. "No, you shall not die, Masa! You shall live, and live for me, the husband of your future.
All is still; no answer comes, no voice replies in tender greeting to his anxious and repeated call. "Masa! where are you, Masa?" The silence is profound. He utters a cry that resounds fearfully through the cave. He gropes about in the darkness. Then he turns again, and cries out loudly, but all is still as before.
The great statesmen, legislators, and judges who contributed so much to the creation of the Bakufu did not long survive the Shokyu struggle. His last advice was given to the lady Masa when he counselled an immediate advance against Kyoto. Soon afterwards he died at the age of eighty-two.
If it were not so, by Allah, you, the murderer of Masa, were already dead! Do you hear me? I pronounce the name I have not spoken for many years the name Masa! You were her murderer, not her judge! You were not her master, she was not your slave. Her death was not lawful; you could not condemn her, and therefore do I call you a common murderer.
"You know such a girl?" he cries, with loud, mocking laughter. "You are fortunate in knowing her. I do not know such a girl; I only know that they are all deceitful and traitorous." "Then you assuredly do not know this one! She is as pure as an angel, and her name is Masa." "Masa!" he exclaims, in loud and joyous tones.
These three, Allah, his mother, and Masa, have spoken to him, and Mohammed has heard and understood their words. As he stands there on the verge of the cliff, gazing out into the distance, and listening to the sea murmuring at his feet, he now feels that he is the instrument chosen to do great deeds. He must obey Destiny, he must respond to the appeal of revenge, of honor, and of renown.
The sheik, too, had arisen; had already turned to the east, and finished his prayers, and repaired to his daughter's room. She had told him, through her servant, the evening before, that she would come to him early in the morning, to hand him his coffee and chibouque. But Masa, did not come, and the father's heart is filled with an inexplicable feeling of anxiety. He hastily ascends the stairway.
"He was to have embarked yesterday evening, and who knows but that when the sun rises the ship will long since have sailed out of the harbor. Yet we must be cautious. It might be only a pretence, to lull us into false security. It is for this reason, Masa, that I dare not pass the night here.
Was it by chance that he was so placed that a shadow was thrown over the place where she stood, which enabled her to gaze at him from out the darkness with her large, luminous eyes? "I entreat you, Masa, go not down to your father's house, but ascend with me to the Ear of Bucephalus.