THE CAPEDJI BACHI, 77 



bition was now before them the court of the Sultan, that had so 

 often haunted them in their dreams, was suddenly opened to their 

 dazzled imaginations. Mustapha was delighted with his new exist- 

 ence. It was the feast of the Buram, and the gorgeous ceremonies 

 that mark its duration were unusually magnificent. But amid this 

 intoxicating scene, so calculated to captivate his youthful imagination, 

 the idea of revenge was uppermost in his thoughts, and he therefore 

 eagerly sought the friendship of the chief of the eunuchs, in the hope 

 of in time making him share his hatred of Ahmed, whose haughty 

 and impetuous character could ill bend to the discipline of the Serag- 

 lio. The son of the barber-bachi, in consequence, soon became 

 exposed to a system of the most bitter persecution. 



One day that he had to present to the Grand Segnior the sacred 

 turban, he let it fall, and by this accident interrupted the august ce- 

 remony of prayer. Ahmed, who foresaw, but too well, the treatment 

 that awaited him at the Seraglio, for there, as all over the empire, the 

 bastinado reigns, resolved to make his escape. Seizing, therefore, 

 the moment when the Sultan, his court, and the people were absorbed 

 in their devotions, he glode furtively from the mosque, and covering 

 his rich costume with a soldier's berich, he gained the residence of an 

 old servant of his father in the environs of the capital, and all search 

 for the fugitive proved fruitless. Mustapha, in the meanwhile, of a 

 intriguing and persevering character, got on in the Seraglio, and was 

 made, for some trifling service that he rendered the Grand Signior, a 

 Capedji Bachi. 



The Capedji Bachi are the telegraphs of the Porte. It is through 

 them that the will of the Sultan flies rapidly and mysteriously from 

 one end of the empire to the other, and is executed when and where 

 it is fitting. Mustapha was on the high road to fortune, and might 

 without fostering a vain illusion, aspire one day to the Viziership 

 But a momentary caprice had elevated him, and through caprice he 

 lingered unnoticed in his post of Capedji. 



Ahmed had lost no time in quitting Constantinople. The Porte 

 was at war with Persia, and he took the road to Bagdad, the headr 

 quarters of the Turkish army. Throwing aside the courtly manners 

 of the Seraglio, which would have infallibly betrayed him, he skil- 

 fully assumed the careless arrogant tone of a soldier of fortune. With 

 his Tripoli turban, placed low over the right brow, the ayatagan and 

 pistols in his girdle, a shortened pipe for the journey, a mandoline 

 hung at the pommel of the saddle of his small Austalia horse in this 

 guise he entered Damascus. 



Noble and holy city of Damascus ! a Pacha reigns over her, but 

 reigns in fear. The Kawas dare not insolently traverse her streets. 

 She accepts from despotism but what she pleases, makes even a 

 compact with it, and supports it so long as it is faithful to the treaty. 

 Then she is the high-road to Mecca, the pilgrims place of rendezvous, 

 and she appears to respect her Pacha merely because he bears the 

 title of the Prince of Pilgrims. Ahmed waited for some days the de- 

 parture of the caravan for Bagdad. This caravan resembles an army 

 on its march a town in the midst of the desert when it halts its 

 course is like that of an immense fleet, for like it, it is obliged to often 



