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Updated: May 5, 2025
He feels sure that he can catch the man who took it to Marchetto." I explained to Paul the course Gregorios proposed to follow. He seemed to think the chance was a poor one. "I have been pursued by an idea ever since this morning," he said at last. "I dare say you will think it very foolish, but I cannot get rid of it. Do you remember the adventure in the Valley of Roses?
It is a mild form of idiocy, it is true, much milder than the prevailing practice of dancing in-doors, with the thermometer at the boiling point." "It is not a bad idea," I answered. "We will experiment upon our friends the Carvels in a small way. I will ask them and the Patoffs to come here next Saturday. Can you come, too?" The thing was settled, and Gregorios promised to be of the party.
"He is as beautiful as an angel," I said, wishing to give him his due. "What business have men with such beauty as that?" asked Gregorios, scornfully. "I would rather look like a Kurd hamál than like Alexander Patoff. He is spoiling Paul's life. Not that I care!" he added, shrugging his shoulders. "No," I said, "it is none of our business.
"If one could get as far as that, it would be a wise precaution and a benefit to the human race to convey a little strychnine to the Khanum in a sweetmeat," said Gregorios, with a laugh. "How horribly bloodthirsty you are!" I answered, laughing in my turn. "I believe you would massacre half of Stamboul to find a man who may be dead already."
We dined, and sat late together, talking long before we went to bed. Gregorios is a soldier, and does not mind roughing it a little; so he slept on the divan, and declared the next day that he had slept very well.
"No; I will tell you to-night, when I know whether it is possible or not. You are going to dine with your friends? Yes; very well, when you have finished, come here, and we will see what can be done. We must only pray that the iniquitous old woman may live till morning." It was clear that Gregorios was not ready, and that nothing would induce him to speak what was in his mind.
All three ran forward, but some one else was there before them, dragging away a thick carpet, of which the wool was all singed and burning. There lay Gregorios Balsamides as he had fallen, stumbling on the doorstep, with the heavy body of Paul Patoff in his arms. Hermione fell on her knees and shrieked aloud. It was plain enough.
The Lala seemed delighted, and politely made way for Gregorios to pass, but Marchetto of course protested loudly that the negro's business could wait. He accompanied Gregorios to the door, and with many inclinations stood looking after him for a few moments. At a little distance Gregorios pretended to be attracted by something exposed for sale, and, pausing, looked furtively back.
Therefore, Selim, say a Fatihah, for your hour is come." With that, Balsamides drew a short revolver from his pocket and cocked it before the man's eyes. The negro's limbs relaxed, and with a howl he fell upon his knees. "Mercy! In the name of Allah!" he cried. "I have told all the truth, I swear by the grave of my father" "Don't move," said Gregorios, with horrible calmness.
He saw indeed that she was in a very weak state, and he fancied she could not last long. "Ay, the pains of Gehennam are upon me," she answered in her hoarse whisper, and at the same time she trembled violently, while the perspiration broke out in a clammy moisture on her yellow forehead. Gregorios produced a small case from his pocket. It is the magical transformer of the modern physician.
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