Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks - Bracebridge Hemyng (10 ebook reader .txt) 📗

struggle will Isaac Mole surrender his liberty as a single man, that is as a married man, but not—Heaven, my brain is growing utterly confused in this terrible position. Where's that boy Jack?"

"Their excellencies Yakoob and Haroun Pasha are both gone out," was the response.

"Then, Abdullah, I command you to stand up in my defence. Come here."

The old interpreter approached with a low bow.

"Write on two pieces of card the words—'Admire Moley Pasha, but touch not him.'"

"In Turkish?"

"Turkish and English, too."

"Pasha, to hear is to obey."

At this moment a young negro attendant announced—

"The Ladies Alme and Hannifar are impatient to be admitted to your sublime presence."

"Let them wait; it will do them good," cried Mole, desperately. "Have you written it, Abdullah?"

"One moment, your highness," was the reply. "There," he added, finishing up with an elaborate flourish; "all will understand that. And now what am I to do with them?"

"Fasten one notice on my back, and the other on my chest," answered Mole, "so that the ladies may understand and keep at a respectful distance. That's right. Be still, my trembling heart. Now you can admit them."

The negro drew aside the curtains of the chamber, and two female forms of majestic height and proportions, in gorgeous Oriental costumes, but closely veiled, entered.

They made a very graceful salute to the pasha, and were walking straight up to him, when he sprang backwards, and leaping upon a high sofa, turned his back to them, not in contempt, but in order that they might read the Turkish inscription thereon inscribed.

Then he turned and pointed to it on his breast in English.

Far, however, from being struck with awe and covered with confusion, the ladies were highly amused and laughed consumedly.

"What are they smiling at?" asked Mole, somewhat indignantly.

"Only at the felicitous ingenuity of your highness's idea," answered the interpreter, pointing to the placard.

"Well, I hope they understand, and will abide by it," said Mole, venturing to step off the sofa.

But the moment he did so, the foremost, who, he understood was the Lady Alme, and was certainly of an impulsive disposition, sprang forward as if to embrace Mole.

"Save me!" he cried. "To the rescue, guards, attendants, Jack, Harry. Where can they have got to? Help, help! Mrs. Mole, come to the rescue of your poor Mole."

The old interpreter, with some dexterity, flung himself between them, just in the nick of time to avert from Mole the fair Circassian's effusive greeting.

"'Tis our Eastern custom," explained the dragoman. "Her ladyship is only expressing her delight at beholding her new lord and master."

"Tell them I am nothing of the kind, and I have got a wife in England," answered the pasha.

Abdullah did so, whereupon the ladies set up a series of piercing shrieks and lamentations.

"What in the world's the matter with them?" asked Mole, greatly dismayed.

"They are desolated at the thought of having incurred your sublimity's displeasure."

"Tell them that they had no business to come unless I sent for them," said Mole.

"They say, O magnificent pasha, that, hearing of your arrival, they have come thither in the name of themselves, and the other eleven ladies of his late highness's harem, to know when it will be your princely pleasure to bid them cast aside the sombre weeds of widowhood, and——"

"There, cut it short, dragoman; do you mean that they really expect me to marry the whole lot of them?"

"Precisely so, your eminence; even now the most reverend imaum of the town is ready to perform the ceremonial."

"He'll have to wait a long time if he waits for that," cried Mole; "thirteen wives, indeed, and these you say are the youngest of the lot. I suppose they have no objection to allow me to behold the moonshine of their resplendent features. That's the way to put it, I believe, old man."

Abdullah answered—

"It is against Turkish etiquette to unveil before the solemn ceremony has been performed; nevertheless, their ladyships consent to remove one of their veils, through which you may behold their features."

Alme and Hannifar accordingly threw back their outer black veils, and appeared with the white ones underneath.

Mole scrutinized them as well as he could, but he took very good care not to go too near.

"And so, Abdullah, you tell me that these two are the youngest of the whole lot?"

"Indeed, they are, your eminence; famous beauties of pure Circassian descent; each originally cost five thousand piastres, and they surpass the remainder even as the mighty sun doth the twinkling stars."

"Then all I can say is," returned Mole, "that I shudder to think what the eleven others must be like. Just tell the ladies Alme and Hannifar that, as far as I can see, from here, I don't think much of them."

"I will put your message more mildly."

And having spoken to the ladies again, he said—

"Their ladyships are enchanted to find so much favour in the eyes of your excellency."

"Thirteen wives," mused Mole, scarcely heeding the last reply. "It is preposterous—though nothing it seems, compared to some of the Turkish grandees. But fancy old Isaac Mole—ha, ha! really it's quite amusing. Why, the mere marrying so many would be a hard day's work, Abdullah."

"The ceremony would be slightly wearisome, your highness."

"Yes, but I should require thirteen wedding rings—ha, ha, ha!—the idea of thirteen wedding rings being used at once, and by one man."

"Don't let that be any objection," said Abdullah; "for the ladies tell me they have come provided with exactly the number of rings requisite for the purpose."

Sure enough, Alme detached from her fair neck an elastic band, whereon were strung thirteen bright gold rings.

Mole was fairly staggered by this determined preparation on the part of the irresistible enslavers.

"They mean to have me," he gasped. "I see how it is; they come here with the intention of dragging me to the late pasha's mansion, and marrying me by main force."

"It looks like it," answered the interpreter, "for I find that they have brought with them a dozen of the harem-guard, fully armed."

"Then I am indeed lost," cried Mole. "But no, I'll die game. Here, help, guards, soldiers, fly to the rescue of your pasha. Oh! Mrs. Mole, where are you now? Your poor Mole is in danger."

As Mole uttered the piteous lament we have recorded, both ladies made a combined charge at him, with a wild shriek and a sudden outburst in Turkish, which might have been either a chorus of endearments or of reproaches.

Alme got behind him and flung her arms around his neck with such vigour that he was nearly strangled, Hannifar attacking him in the same way from the front.

In the pressure of this combined assault he was powerless; struggle as he would, he could not detach himself from their overwhelming embrace.

His cries for help were smothered.

His turban was knocked over his eyes.

He could feel the placards being torn from him, and himself being hauled hither and thither by the ladies who seemed fighting for the sole possession of him.

At length, by a gigantic effort, he freed himself and raised a cry of alarm that might have aroused the dead, but in that effort, he stumbled and fell on his back over a pile of sofa cushions.

Roused by his cries, the military and body guard of the pashalik rushed in, and the whole house was in an uproar.

When Mole had been again uplifted to his feet, and was gasping forth confused explanations, he perceived that the Ladies Alme and Hannifar had mysteriously levanted.

CHAPTER LXXVI.

THE SUDDEN RUIN AND UTTER DOWNFALL OF THE GREAT MOLEY PASHA.

The ladies' absence was a great relief to Mole. He devoutly hoped that he had for ever got rid of the thirteen widows of his late lamented predecessor.

About an hour afterwards, when Mole was striving to calm his irritated feelings with a cup of coffee and hookah, Jack and Harry arrived, as they said, from a walk round the neighbouring country, looking as innocent as any of the lambs they may have met on the finely-grassed hills.

This innocent look was remarkable, because, as the reader has probably suspected, they had really been concerned in Mr. Mole's recent adventure.

In short, Jack had been the Alme, and Harry the Hannifar, of the domestic scene we have described, the Turkish dress and the ladies' custom of keeping veiled, immensely assisting them in the imposture.

"Whatever has been the matter here?" asked Jack. "As we were coming along, we heard a dreadful row outside, and saw a large body of troops bolting off in a deuce of a hurry."

"Oh, my sons," replied the pasha, in a tone of paternal pathos, "sore hath been the wretchedness and distress of your afflicted parent. I wish you had been here, then it could not have happened. I'll tell you all about it."

Jack and Harry Girdwood had sufficient self-command to listen with unmoved countenances to Mr. Mole's account of the adventure, and even to express great surprise and alarm at the harrowing details.

"Shall I write home to Mrs. Mole for you, sir?" said Jack.

"For the Lord's sake, no," cried Mole, in dismay.

Then they tried their best to frighten the old tutor, by suggesting various deadly schemes of vengeance, which it was very possible the ladies of his late highness's seraglio might form against Moley Pasha.

"You must never go out without a strong body guard," said Jack, "for at any time they may have you seized and borne off to the harem."

"And you'll have to take care of yourself even at home," added Harry, "especially with regard to the food you eat, for in Turkey, those who owe a grudge think nothing of paying it out in poison."

"Gracious Heaven! don't talk in that way," cried Mole. "you quite make my blood run cold. I think—I hope—I can trust my guards and my new attendants."

"I hope so too," replied Jack, shaking his head in grave doubt. "But you must always bear in mind that treachery is one of the commonest vices of the East; you can't be too careful."

"Oh, Allah, Allah!" exclaimed Mr. Mole, who had slipped naturally into a habit of using Turkish interjections; "what a life it is to be a pasha. I used to think it was all glory and happiness, but now I find, to my grief, that—if this sort of thing goes on, I shall bolt."

It being now far advanced in the evening, the pasha, wearied out with the cares and excitements of the day, retired to rest in the Turkish fashion, half-dressed, and upon a kind of sofa.

His cork legs, of course, were carefully taken off first.

In this Jack and Harry assisted him.

Moley Pasha went to sleep and to dream of bowstrings, scimitars, and various painful forms of execution.

The next morning, however, he arose more hopeful, and fully resolved to show himself a vigorous and successful ruler.

In his sumptuous seat in the divan, or hall of audience, Mole began to feel like a monarch on his throne, and signed his decrees with all the triumphant flourish of a Napoleon.

It was in the height of this power and glory that there arose a sudden consternation in court.

Murmurs arose, shouts, mingled with the tramp of many steeds, were heard outside.

"What's the matter?" asked the pasha. "Who dares to make a disturbance and disturb the pasha? Officer, command silence."

A deadly stillness fell upon the assembly.

For some few moments one might have heard a pin drop.

But distant shouts in the streets, and the tramp of horses recommenced.

The interpreter and Harry and Jack, who stood on each side of the pasha, exchanged meaning glances, which partook much of alarm.

Consternation could be perceived on every face in court.

It was evident that something serious was about to occur.

"Whatever is the meaning of this?" cried the pasha, who himself seemed to feel no suspicion and alarm. "Abdullah, go and see what it means."

The old interpreter at once hurried to the door.

Jack and Harry, as if impelled by resistless curiosity, followed him.

Karam, the chief of the guard, did the same, and many of those about the court followed in a now excited and expectant