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The crowd, pressing back, went down upon its knees and grovelled as Asad-ed-Din on a milk-white mule rode forward, escorted by Tsamanni his wazeer and a cloud of black-robed janissaries with flashing scimitars. The curses that had greeted the violence of his negroes were suddenly silenced; instead, blessings as fervent filled the air. "May Allah increase thy might! May Allah lengthen thy days!
It happened, however, that Tsamanni was malicious, and that the hatred of Fenzileh which so long he had consumed in silence and dissembled under fawning smiles and profound salaams included also her servants. There was none in all the world of whom he entertained a greater contempt than her sleek and greasy eunuch Ayoub-el-Samin of the majestic, rolling gait and fat, supercilious lips.
"Didst thou mark, O Tsamanni, with what a grace she moved? lithely and nobly as a young gazelle. Verily, so much beauty was never created by the All-Wise to be cast into the Pit." "May it not have been sent to comfort some True-Believer?" wondered the subtle wazeer. "To Allah all things are possible." "Why else, indeed?" said Asad.
The watchful Tsamanni considered that the time had come to buy her for his lord as he had been bidden. "Three hundred," he said curtly, to make an end of matters, and "Four hundred," instantly piped a shrill voice behind him. He spun round in his amazement and met the leering face of Ayoub.
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