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Updated: May 31, 2025
This was the feast of the Moolood, and on one of the nights of it, probably the eighth night, the last night, Friday night, Ben Aboo the Basha was to give a "gathering of delight," to the Sultan, his Ministers, his Kaids, his Kadis, his Khaleefas, his Umana, and great rascals generally. Ali's stout heart stuck at nothing.
Thus, in his frenzy, pretending to imitate with airs of manifest mockery his outbreak of fear a few minutes before, Ben Aboo raved and raged and lifted his clenched fist to the sky in sham imprecation of God. "Who said it was the Sultan?" he cried again. "He was a fool. Abd er-Rahman? No; but Mohammed of Mequinez! Mohammed the Third! That's it! That's it!"
So part we now for ever, Ben Aboo I to the work that waits for me, and you to shame and contempt, and death and hell." Saying this, he made a downward sweep of his open hand over the place where the Basha lay, and Ben Aboo shrank under it as a worm shrinks under a blow. Then with head erect he went out unhindered. But he was not yet done.
Israel heard of what had happened, and he hastened to Ben Aboo, in great agitation, intending to say "Pay back this man's ransom, in God's name, and his children and his children's children will live to bless you." But when he got to the Kasbah, Katrina was sitting with her husband, and at sight of the woman's face Israel's tongue was frozen.
I had asked the colonial governor for a guard of five Sikhs and a launch, that I might steam up the coast and investigate the alleged outrage before appealing officially to the British government. Of course Baboo went, much to the disgust of Aboo Din, the syce. I never was able to refuse the little fellow anything, and I knew if I left him behind he would be revenged by running away.
There must be as manny as two in Boston: they'se wan up in Maine, an' another lives at Bogg's Ferry in New York State, an' dhrives a milk wagon. Mack is an Anglo-Saxon. His folks come fr'm th' County Armagh, an' their naytional Anglo-Saxon hymn is 'O'Donnell Aboo. Teddy Rosenfelt is another Anglo-Saxon. An' I'm an Anglo-Saxon.
In the dark he found the place, and taking bags in both his hands and hiding them under the folds of his selham, he tried to escape from the Kasbah unseen. It was too late; the Spanish soldiers were coming up the arcades, and Ben Aboo, with his money-bags, took refuge in a granary underground, near the wall of the Kasbah gate.
"And pray, again," he said, with a curl of the lip, "without office and without riches how may you hope to live?" "As a poor man among poor men," said Israel, "serving God and trusting to His mercy." Again Ben Aboo laughed hoarsely, and Katrina joined him, but Israel stood quiet and silent, and gave no sign. "Serving God is hard bread," said Ben Aboo. "Serving the devil is crust!" said Israel.
In this work a blind old man of the Greek Church named Aboo Yusoof was an efficient helper. Though stooping with age, he went about the country with a donkey loaded with books, and a little boy to lead him, doing what he could. In a district northeast of Tripoli, he was encouraged in his work by the approbation of the Greek bishop Zacharias.
Is that not enough for you, Ben Aboo? Set her free." The Basha listened at first with a look of bewilderment, and some half-dozen armed attendants at the farther end of the room shuffled about in their consternation. At length Ben Aboo raised his head, and said with an air of mock inquiry, "Ya Allah! who is this infidel?" Then, changing his tone suddenly, he cried, "Sir, I know who you are!
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