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Updated: May 20, 2025
And the mob rushed upon the prisons, tore down the railings, broke through bolts and bars, and whole hordes of murderers and malefactors rushed forth into the piazza and all the adjoining streets, and the last of all to quit the dungeon was Janaki, Halil's father-in-law.
The eyes of the Grand Vizier and the Khan surveyed the ranks of the Janissary officers, while Halil's faithful adherents began to assemble round their leader. "Then there is no answer to the words of Halil Patrona?" inquired Kabakulak at last tentatively. They were all silent. "Have you no answer at all then?"
By the end of March the bulk of Halil's forces were through, and Maude had to content himself with linking up with the Russians at Kizil Robat and driving the Turks from the Diala after their troops in Persia had escaped.
The tidings of Halil's death wrought no change in him, he had foreseen it long before, and was well aware that Gül-Bejáze had departed from the capital.
But Halil's breast beat with a still greater joy, with a still loftier hope, when turning away from the tumult of the world, he opened the door of his private room and entered therein. What voices are those which it does his soul good to hearken to? Why does he pause and stand listening before the curtain? What is he listening to? It is the feeble cry of a child, a little baby child.
He fancied that the girl was only pretending. He put his hand on her fair bosom but he could not hear the beating of the heart. The girl had lost all sense of feeling. He could have done with her what he would. A dead body lay in his bosom. An ice-cold feeling of horror penetrated Halil's heart, altogether extinguishing the burning flame of passion.
Gül-Bejáze does not know this writing; its signs are quite strange to her, but she feasts her delighted eyes on the beautifully painted festoons and lilies and the variegated birds with which the initial letters are embellished, and scarce observes what a black shadow those pretty gaily coloured, butterfly-like letters cast upon Halil's face.
A few days before Gül-Bejáze bore him a son, on the anniversary of the very day when he made her his wife. This child was the purest part of Halil's joy, the loftiest star of his hopes. Whithersoever I may one day rise, he would reflect, this child shall rise with me. Whatever I shall not be able to achieve, he will accomplish.
An impatient group of Janissaries was standing round their kettle, which was placed on the top of a lofty iron tripod, and amongst them we notice Halil Patrona and Musli. There was very little of the huckster of the day before yesterday in Halil's appearance now.
A cart drawn by two oxen was standing there, and the top of it was covered with a mat of rushes. He drew aside a corner of this mat, and by the uncertain light of dawn they saw before them three corpses, the Kiaja's, the Kapudan's, and the Grand Vizier's. Happy Gül-Bejáze sits in Halil's lap and dreamily allows herself to be cradled in his arms.
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