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Updated: June 15, 2025
See, beneath us lies Cavalla, where people are now beginning to move about. The eyes of gossips might see me, and the sharp tongues of calumny defame my father's daughter. That may not be, for the sake of my good name, and for your sake too, Mohammed. Let me go down alone, and you remain until you see me descending the stairway. Do not go down until then.
"But let me count. I believe I was fifteen when, at Cavalla, I first had the happiness of meeting you, my distinguished master." "Let us proceed with the calculation," said Cousrouf. "I remained three years in Cavalla. By Allah, they seemed to me to be three centuries! Yes, I remained there three years, and you were therefore eighteen when I left Cavalla?"
Woe to him for so doing! for this, too, shall retribution be visited upon him! "Yes, highness, I have a family. I have a wife and three sons at home in Cavalla." "One wife only!" said the pacha. "Are you contented with one wife?" "One is often too many," replied Mohammed. "But this does not apply to my wife. She is the niece of the tschorbadji, and devoted to me.
And a threatening voice whispers in his soul: "Cousrouf Pacha, beware! You have called your judge yourself. Beware, the avenger will appear! You will not recognize him, for his countenance will smile, and his bearing will be soft and composed. You will not recognize him, but he will come. Beware, Cousrouf Pacha!" Mohammed now turns to descend to Cavalla, and he feels himself a changed, a new man.
All these expenses must be met, as well as the full amount for Stamboul, which must on no account be lessened. The men had declared at once, with angry words, that they would never pay the tax. On the morning of the day when the two collectors came from Cavalla, the men of the village assembled in the square as they had determined to do, and greeted them with loud and angry clamorings.
Both, it seems, wish to avoid being the first to speak a word of greeting. Finally, Osman breaks the silence. "This, Mohammed Ali, is our third meeting. The first, you will recollect, was at Cavalla. Two boys, both ambitious, addressed each other in tones of mockery and derision.
Let your question remain unanswered for the present. I will communicate with you from time to time, Osman, and send you loving messages, you may rest assured. I have one request to make still: when you return home to Cavalla, greet the wife that you gave me, and also greet and kiss my children.
He returns to consciousness, is led down to the court-yard, mounted on his ass, and conducted by the bim bashi and the slaves to Alexandria. From there he is transported in the vessel, that lies in readiness, across the sea to Imbro, to the citadel, from whose windows he can see Cavalla, the water, and the place where he buried Masa beneath the cold, blue waves.
Who could have imagined that this poor Turkish child was dreaming of future glory, and saying to himself, as he regarded the grand gentleman on the deck of the ship: "I will one day be as you are, and even greater than you!" The governor, accompanied by the strange Turks, and followed by servants carrying palanquins, was now observed coming down the pathway from Cavalla.
Bear my greeting to Cavalla, to the yellow shore, and to Masa's deep, blue grave. And now I have nothing more to say to you. I shall send up the bim bashi who is to conduct you to Alexandria, and accompany you on the ship to your home at Imbro. Farewell!" He turns and hastily leaves the room, without looking again at Cousrouf, who stands there motionless and deathly pale.
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