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Updated: May 7, 2025
Hearken, men of Praousta, in the name of the tschorbadji! I give you until early to-morrow morning to decide; if, at the hour of second prayers, you have not sent three men to the palace of the tschorbadji, double the amount that you have formerly paid, the sheik and the three ulemas will lose their heads for your disobedience, and you will be the murderers of four of the first men of Praousta."
"I do not wish it," said Mohammed, gloomily; "he is a hard, proud man, better in his own estimation than anybody here in Cavalla, better even than the tschorbadji. I never saw a prouder man. And what right has he to be so? Has he not fallen into disgrace with the sultan? Did he not come here because he was banished from Stamboul? And do you know why he was banished?
"I sincerely hope he may," said the pacha, quietly. "As yet he has, however, not learned it; he should come to Stamboul there he would be taught to bend his proud neck. Tell me, Osman, have I now paid off the debt of gratitude that rested on my shoulders?" "You have now transferred it to our shoulders," exclaimed the tschorbadji, ardently.
"Why should your excellency think so?" asked he in sharp, almost threatening tones. "Why is it too great an honor that the son of the tschorbadji calls me his friend? Has it not occurred that aristocratic gentlemen have elevated to an equality with themselves, and made friends even of, slaves, and purchased boys?
They were evidently Turks, by their closely-fitting uniforms, and the scarlet fez on their heads; the short arms which hung at their sides showed them to be the kavassen, or the collectors of the tschorbadji.
I will go at once." "Do so, and I will order my men to obey you in all things," said the tschorbadji. "Farewell, my Osman," cried Mohammed his whole being as full of energy and determination as if he were going to battle. He bowed smilingly to his friend, and passed from the hall with a firm step.
You shall have all you have commanded us to pay." "You are prepared to pay it?" exclaimed the tschorbadji, joyously. "Then our trouble is at an end. But pray why are you, the daughter of the noble, worthy sheik, here?" "I have come, O master, because I have an act of mercy to implore at your hands.
You have power, and that is nobility." The tschorbadji was displeased with these humble words of his son, and his brow became clouded. "I think you should be content with your riches and nobility, my son," said he. "Come, hand me the pigeons, Mohammed." He took the beautifully feathered birds from Mohammed's hand, looked at them, and let their feathers play in the sun light.
I have no executioner." "If necessary," said Mohammed, his eyes flashing with resolve "If necessary, I will behead them myself." "Bravely said!" cried Cousrouf Pacha, rising from his seat. "Truly, Mohammed Ali, I begin to be pleased with you." "That, sir, is more than I desire," said Mohammed, calmly; he gave one threatening glance at the proud pacha, and then turned quickly to the tschorbadji.
This year they have had a bad harvest, and but little profit, and were incensed at having to pay double taxes." "And why double taxes?" asked Cousrouf Pacba, with a contemptuous smile. "Do not ask me, excellency," replied the tschorbadji, with a bow; "one portion of the taxes goes as usual to Stamboul, into the coffers of his highness; the other portion "
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