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Updated: June 29, 2025
The fresh breeze filled the sails, and the next tack took us clear up to Yeni Mahallè on the European side; for the little yacht was quick in stays, and, moreover, had a good hold on the water, enabling her to beat quickly up against wind and current.
"You need not have brought me here to ask me about him. I would have told you what you wanted to know at Yeni Köj, willingly enough." "Why can he not be found?" "Because he has been dead nearly two years, and his body was thrown into the Bosphorus," answered the Lala defiantly. "You killed him, I suppose?" Balsamides tightened his grip upon the man's arm. But Selim was ready with his reply.
That is enough. My word is good, and I will keep it. Speak; you are safe." "In the first place, we must go back to Yeni Köj. You might have saved yourself the trouble of coming up here on such a night as this." "I want no comments on my doings. Tell me where the man is." "I will take you to him," said the Lala.
He had resolved that he would prolong the discussion until twelve o'clock, judging that by midday the negro would be on his way back to Yeni Köj, and that there would be no further chance of seeing him. He therefore broached the subject of Marchetto's trade with the foreigners, knowing that once upon this tack the Jew would have endless stories and anecdotes to relate.
As we lay a moment at the pier of Yeni Köj, "New town" sounds less interesting, we watched the stream of passengers, and I thought Paul started slightly as a tall, smooth-faced, and hideous negro suddenly turned and looked up to where we stood on the deck, as he left the steamer. I might have been mistaken, but it was the only approach to an incident of interest which occurred that day.
We reached the upper part of the Bosphorus, and at Yeni Mahallè, within sight of the Black Sea, the ferry-boat described a wide circle and turned once more in the direction of Stamboul. "I feel better," said Paul, as we reached Galata bridge and elbowed our way ashore through the crowd. "We will go again." "By all means," I answered.
Exactly as in the Yeni Khan in Tarsus when we first met him there was a moment now of intense repulsion, entirely unaccountable, succeeded instantly by a wave of sympathy. I laughed aloud, remembering how strange dogs meeting in the street to smell each other are swept by unexplainable antipathies and equally swift comradeship. He thought I laughed at him. "Neye geldin?" he growled in Turkish.
Patoff and I, as usual on Thursday, had made a trip up the Bosphorus, and it was on this occasion that he first pointed out to me the hideous negro. He proved to be the same man I had seen once before, on our very first excursion. To-day he looked more ugly than ever, as he went ashore at Yeni Köj.
Then, after a moment's pause, we turned to the right, and began to descend a steep hill, slowly and cautiously, for the night was very dark and the road bad. "We are going down to Yeni Köj," said Balsamides. "In twenty minutes we shall be there. I will get out of the carriage first. Remember that, once there, you must not speak a word of any language but Turkish."
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