“Mashallah!  How wonderful is God!  Did the Caliph Haroun ever hear such stories?” observed the pacha, taking the pipe from his mouth, as he was indulging in company with Mustapha:  “that infidel tells strange histories of strange countries ­What will his mouth open to next?”

“The Shaitan Bacheh, for a son of the devil he still is, although he wears the turban and bows to Allah, will prove a treasury of amusement to your sublime highness,” replied Mustapha:  “but what are the words of the sage? ­’If thou hast gold in thy hazneh, keep it locked and add thereto; thus shalt thou become rich.’”

“They are the words of wisdom,” replied the pacha.

“Then may I advise your highness to walk out this evening in search of more, and not exhaust that which is in your possession?”

“Wallah Thaib!  It is well said!” answered the pacha, rising from his musnud or carpet of state:  “the moon is up ­when all is ready we will proceed.”

In a quarter of an hour the pacha, attended by Mustapha and the armed slaves as before, again set out upon their perambulations through the city of Cairo.

They had not walked more than half-an-hour when they observed two men sitting at the door of a fruit-shop, at high words with each other.  The pacha held up his finger to Mustapha, as a sign to stop, that he might over-hear their discourse.

“I tell you, Ali, that it is impossible to hear those long stories of yours without losing one’s temper.”

“Long stories!” whispered the pacha to Mustapha with delight:  “the very thing! ­Shukur Allah!  Thanks be to God!”

“And I tell you in reply, Hussan, that yours are ten times worse.  You never have spoken for ten minutes, without my feeling an inclination to salute your mouth with the heel of my slipper.  I wish there was any one who would hear us both and decide the point.”

“That I will,” said the pacha, going up to them:  “to-morrow I will hear both your stories, and decide upon the merits of each.”

“And who are you?” observed one of the men, with surprise.

“His highness the pacha,” replied Mustapha, coming forward.  Both the men prostrated themselves, while the pacha directed Mustapha that they should be brought before him on the following day:  and the vizier, having given them in charge to the slaves who had followed at a distance, returned home with the pacha; who was delighted at the rich harvest which he expected to reap from the two people who accused each other of telling such long stories.

When the divan of the following day had closed, the two men were summoned into the presence of the pacha.

“I shall now decide upon the merits of your stories,” observed he.  “Sit down there both of you, and agree between yourselves which of you will begin.”

“May it please your highness, you will never be able to listen to this man Ali,” observed Hussan:  “you had better send him away.”

“Allah preserve your highness from all evil,” replied Ali, “but more especially from the talking of Hussan, which is as oppressive as the hot wind of the desert.”

“I have not sent for you to hear you dispute in my presence, but to hear your stories.  Ali, do you begin.”

“I do assure your highness,” interrupted Hussan, “that you will not listen to him three minutes.”

“I do assure you,” retorted the pacha, “that if you say one word more, until you are ordered, you will be rewarded with the bastinado for your trouble.  Ali, begin your story.”

“Well, your highness, it was about thirty years ago, you know, that I was a little boy, you know.”

Here Hussan lifted up his hands, and smiled.

“Well, your highness, you know ­”

“I don’t know, Ali; how can I know until you tell me,” observed the pacha.

“Well, then, your highness must know that ever since I was born I have lived in the same street where your highness saw us seated last night, and thirty years, you know is a long period in a man’s life.  My father was a gardener, and people of his condition, you know, are obliged to get up early, that they may be in time for the market, where, you know, they bring their vegetables for sale.”

“This is all very true, I dare say,” observed the pacha; “but you will oblige me by leaving out all those you knows, which I agree with your comrade Hussan to be very tedious.”

“That’s what I have already told him, your highness ­’Ali,’ says I, ‘if you can only leave out your you knows,’ says I, ’your story might be amusing, but,’ says I ­”

“Silence with your says I’s,” observed the pacha; “have you forgotten the bastinado? there seems to be a pair of you.  Ali, go on with the story and remember my injunction; the felek and ferashes are at hand.”

“Well, your highness, one morning he rose earlier than usual, as he was anxious to be the first in the market with some onions, which, you know, are very plentiful; and having laden his ass, he set off, at a good round pace, for the city.  There, you know, he arrived at the market-place a little after the day had dawned, when, you know, ­”

“Did you not receive my orders to leave out you know?  Am I to be obeyed or not?  Now go on, and if you offend again, you shall have the bastinado till your nails drop off.”

“I shall observe your highness’s wishes,” replied Ali. ­“A little after the day had dawned, you ­, no, he, I mean, observed an old woman sitting near one of the fruit-stalls, with her head covered up in an old dark-blue capote; and as he passed by, you ­she I mean, held out one of her fingers, and said, ‘Ali Baba,’ for that was my father’s name, ‘Listen to good advice; leave your laden beast, and follow me.’  Now my father, you know, not being inclined to pay any attention to such an old woman, you know, replied, you know, ­”

“Holy Allah!” exclaimed the pacha in a rage to Mustapha, “what does this man deserve?”

“The punishment due to those who dare to disobey your highness’s commands.”

“And he shall have it:  take him out; give him one hundred blows of the bastinado; put him on an ass with his face turned towards the tail; and let the officer who conducts him through the town proclaim, ’Such is the punishment awarded by the pacha to him who presumes to say that his highness knows, when in fact, he knows nothing.’”

The guards seized upon the unfortunate Ali to put in execution the will of the pacha; and as he was dragged away, Hussan cried out, “I told you so; but you would not believe me.”

“Well,” replied Ali, “I’ve one comfort, your story’s not told yet.  His highness has yet to decide which is the best.”

After a few minutes’ pause, to recover himself from the ruffling of his temper, the pacha addressed the other man ­“Now, Hussan, you will begin your story, and observe that I am rather in an ill-humour.”

“How can your highness be otherwise, after the annoyance of that bore Ali?  I said so; ‘Ali,’ says I, ­”

“Go on with your story,” repeated the pacha angrily.

“It was about two years ago, your highness, when I was sitting at the door of the fruit-shop, which your highness might have observed when you saw us last night, that a young female, who seemed above the common class, came in, followed by a porter.  ‘I want some melons,’ says she.  ’I have very fine ones, so walk in,’ says I:  and I handed down from the upper shelf, where they were placed, four or five musk, and four or five water-melons.

“‘Now,’ says I, ’young woman, you’ll observe that these are much finer melons,’ says I, ’than you usually can procure; therefore the lowest price that I can take,’ says I, ‘is ­’”

“Why, your says I’s are much worse than Ali’s you knows; leave them out, if you please, and proceed with your story,” cried the pacha, with increased ill-humour.

“I will obey, your highness, if possible.  I stated the lowest price, and she lifted up her veil ­’I have an idea,’ said she, as she allowed me to look upon one of the prettiest faces in the world, ’that they are to be had cheaper.’

“I was so struck with her beauty, that I was quite speechless.  ’Am I not right?’ said she, smiling.  ‘From you, madam,’ says I, ’I can take nothing; put as many in the basket of your porter as you please.’  She thanked me, and put into the basket all that I had handed down.  ‘Now,’ says she, ‘I want some dates, the best and finest that you have.’  I handed some down that would have been admired by the ladies of your highness’s harem.  ‘These, madam,’ says I, ’are the best dates that are to be found in Cairo.’  She tasted them, and asked the price; I mentioned it.  ‘They are dear,’ replied she, ‘but I must have them cheaper;’ and again she lifted her veil.  ‘Madam,’ says I, ’these dates are much too cheap at the price which I have mentioned; it really is impossible to take one para less; observe, madam,’ says I, ’the beauty of them, feel the weight, and taste them,’ says I, ‘and you must acknowledge,’ says I, ‘that they are offered to you at a price which,’ says I ­”

“Holy prophet!” cried the pacha in a rage; “I will hear no more of your says I’s:  if you cannot tell your story without them, you shall fare worse than Ali.”

“May it please your highness, how will it be possible for you to know what I said, unless I point out to you what I did say?  I cannot tell my story without it.”

“I’ll see that,” replied the pacha, in a savage tone; and, making the sign, the executioner made his appearance.  “Now, then, go on with your story; and, executioner, after he has repeated says I three times, off with his head!  Go on.”

“I shall never be able to go on, your highness; consider one moment how harmless my says I’s are to the detestable you knows of Ali.  That’s what I always told him; ‘Ali,’ says I, ‘if you only knew,’ says I, ‘how annoying you are!  Why there,’ says I!” At this moment the blow of the scimitar fell, and the head of Hussan rolled upon the floor; the lips from the force of habit still quivering in their convulsions, with the motioning which would have produced says I, if the channel of sound had not been so effectually interrupted.

“That story’s ended!” observed the pacha in a rage.  “Of all the nuisances I ever encountered, these two men have beat them all.  Allah forbid that I ever should again meet with a says I, or a you know!”

“Your highness is all wisdom,” observed Mustapha; “may such ever be the fate of those who cannot tell their stories without saying what they said.”  The pacha, irritated at his disappointment, and little soothed by the remark of Mustapha, without making any answer to it, was about to retire to his harem, when Mustapha, with a low salaam, informed him that the renegade was in attendance to relate his Second Voyage, if he might be permitted to kiss the dust of his presence.  “Khoda shefa midehed ­God gives relief,” replied the pacha, as he resumed his seat:  “let him approach.”

The renegade entered and, having paid the customary obeisance, took his seat, and commenced the narrative of his Second Voyage.

May it please your most sublime highness, the day after I embarked, we sailed with a fair wind, and having cleared the Straits, flattered ourselves with the prospect of a successful voyage; but we were miserably disappointed, for three days afterwards we fell in with a small brig under English colours.  As she was evidently a merchant vessel, we paid no attention to her running down to us, supposing that she was out of her reckoning, and wished to know her exact position on the chart.  But as soon as she was close to us, instead of passing under our stern, as we expected, she rounded-to, and laid us by the board.  Taken by surprise, and having no arms, we were beaten down below, and in a few minutes the vessel remained in the possession of our assailants.  They held a short consultation, and then, opening the hatches, a boatswain pulled out his whistle, and in a tremendous voice roared out, “All hands ahoy!” which was followed by his crying out, “Tumble up there, tumble up!” As we understood this to be a signal for our appearance on deck, we obeyed the summons.  When we all came up, we found out that if we had had any idea that they were enemies, we might have beaten them off, as they were only fifteen in number, while we mustered sixteen.  But it was too late:  we were unarmed, and they had each of them a cutlass, with two pistols stuck in their girdles.  As soon as we were all on deck, they bound our arms behind us with ropes, and ranged us in a line.  Having inquired of each of us our respective ranks and professions, they held a short consultation, and the boatswain addressing me said ­“Thank heaven, you scoundrel, that you were brought up as a barber, for it has saved your life!”

He then cut loose the cords which bound me, and I remained at liberty.  “Now then, my lads!” continued the boatswain, “come, every man his bird!” and, so saying, he seized upon the captain of the vessel, and leading him to the gangway, passed his sword through his body, and tossed him into the sea.

In the same manner each of the murderous villains led forward the man he had selected, and putting an end to his life, either by the sword or pistol, launched the corpse into the waves.

My blood curdled as I beheld the scene, but I said nothing.  I considered myself too fortunate to escape with life.  When it was all over, the boatswain roared out, “That job’s done!  Now, Mr Barber, swab up all this here blood, and be d ­d to you! and recollect that you are one of us.”  I obeyed in fear and silence, and then returned to my former station near the taffrail.

The people who had captured us, as I afterwards found out, were part of the crew of an English Guineaman, who had murdered the master and mate, and had taken possession of the vessel.  As our brig was a much finer craft in every respect, they determined upon retaining her, and scuttling their own.  Before night, they had made all their arrangements, and were standing to the westward with a fine breeze.

But exactly as the bell struck eight for midnight, a tremendous voice was heard at the hatchway, if possible, more than a hundred times louder than the boatswain’s, roaring out “All hands ahoy!”

The concussion of the air was so great, that the ship trembled, as if she had been struck with a thunderbolt; and as soon as the motion had subsided, the water was heard to rush into every part of the hold.  Every body ran on deck astonished with the sound, expecting the vessel immediately to go down, and looking at each other with horror as they stood trembling in their shirts.  The water continued to rush into the vessel, until it reached the orlop beams; then, as suddenly, it stopped.

When the panic had, to a certain degree, subsided, and they perceived that the water did not increase, all hands applied to the pumps, and by eight o’clock in the morning the vessel was free.  Still the unaccountable circumstance weighed heavy on the minds of the seamen, who walked the deck without speaking to each other, or paying any attention to the ship’s course; and as no one took the command, no one was ordered to the helm.

For my own part, I thought it a judgment upon them for their cruelty; and, expecting that worse would happen, I had made up my mind to my fate.  I thought of Marie, and hoping for pardon yet fearing the worst, I vowed, if I escaped, that I would amend my life.

At night we again retired to our hammocks, but no one slept, so afraid were we of a second visitation.  The bell was not struck by the men, but it struck itself, louder than I ever heard it before; and again the dreadful voice was heard, “All hands ahoy!” again the water rushed in, and again we ran on deck.  As before, it mounted as high as the orlop beams; it then stopped, and was pumped out again by eight o’clock on the ensuing morning.

For a month, during which time we never saw land, for we had lost all reckoning, and no one cared to steer ­the same dreadful visitation took place.  Habit had to a degree hardened the men; they now swore and got drunk as before, and even made a jest of the boatswain of the middle watch, as they called him, but at the same time they were worn out with constant fatigue; and one night they declared that they would pump no longer.  The water remained in the vessel all that day, and we retired to our hammocks as usual; when at midnight, the same voice was again heard at the hatchway, not followed by the rush of water, but by a shriek of “Tumble up there, tumble up!”

We all started at the summons, and hastened on deck; there was something that impelled us in spite of ourselves.  Never shall I forget the horrid sight which presented itself:  stretched in a row on the deck of the vessel lay the fifteen bloody corpses of my shipmates who had been murdered.  We stood aghast; the hair rose straight up from our heads, as we viewed the supernatural reappearances.  After a pause of about five minutes, during which we never spoke or even moved, one of the corpses cried out in a sepulchral voice, “Come, every man his bird!” and held up its arms as it lay.

The man, whose office it had been to take the living body to the gangway, and after killing it to throw it overboard, advanced towards it; he was evidently impelled by a supernatural power, for never shall I forget the look of horror, the faint scream of agony, which escaped him as he obeyed the summons.  Like the trembling bird fascinated by the snake, he fell into the arms of the dead body; which grasping him tight, rolled over and over in convolutions like a serpent, until it gained the break of the gangway, and then tumbled into the sea with its murderer entwined in its embraces.  A flash of lightning succeeded, which blinded us for several minutes; and when we recovered our vision, the remainder of the bodies had disappeared.

The effect upon the guilty wretches was dreadful; there they lay, each man on the deck where he had crouched down, when the lightning had flashed upon him:  the sun rose upon them, yet they moved not; he poured his beams on their naked bodies when at his meridian height, yet they still remained:  the evening closed in, and found them in the same positions.  As soon as it was dark, as if released from a spell, they crawled below, and went into their hammocks:  at midnight again the bell struck; again the voice was heard, followed by the shriek; again they repaired on deck:  the fourteen remaining bodies lay in a row:  another of the murderers was summoned, obeyed, and disappeared:  again the flash of lightning burst upon us, and all had vanished; and thus it continued every night, until the boatswain, who was reserved for the last, was dragged overboard after the rest by the corpse of the captain; and then a tremendous voice from the maintop, followed by exulting laughter, cried out, “That job’s done.”  Immediately after which, the water rushed out of the bottom of the vessel, and she was clear as before.

Returning thanks to heaven that I was not a party sufferer with the rest, I lay down, and for the first time for many weeks fell into a sound sleep.  How long I slept, I know not:  it may have been days; but I awoke at last by the sound of voices, and found that the people on board of a vessel bound from Mexico to the South of Spain, perceiving the brig lying with her sails torn, and her yards not trimmed, had sent a boat to ascertain whether there was any body remaining in her.  I was afraid that if I told them what had happened, they either would not believe me, or else would refuse to take on board a person who had been in company with such examples of divine vengeance.  I therefore stated that we had been attacked by dysentery about six weeks before, and all had died except myself, who was supercargo of the brig.

As their vessel was but half full, the cargo, consisting chiefly of cochineal and copper, which is stowed in small space, the captain offered to take as many of my goods as he could stow, provided I would allow him the freight.  This I willingly consented to, and, examining the manifest, selected the most valuable, which were removed to the Spanish vessel.

We had a favourable wind; and having run through the Straits, expected in a day or two we should anchor at Valencia, to which port she was bound; but a violent gale came on from the N.E. which lasted many days, and drove us over to the African shore.  To increase our misfortunes, the ship sprung a leak, and made so much water that we could scarcely keep her free.

The Spaniards are but indifferent sailors, your highness, and in a storm are more inclined to pray than to work:  they became frightened, gave over pumping, and having lighted a candle before the image of St Antonio, which was fixed on the stern of the vessel, began to call upon him for assistance.  Not immediately obtaining their request, they took the image out of the shrine, abused it, called it every vile name that they could think of, and ended with tying it against the main-mast, and beating it with ropes.

In the meantime the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if, instead of praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as before.

Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property as I had on board (for I considered it as my own), I seized the image from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps if they wished to be saved.  The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.

Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps.  To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course of a few hours she was free.

The next morning the gale was over, and we were steering for Valencia.  I observed that the captain and sailors avoided me, but I cared little about it, as I felt that my conduct had saved the ship as well as my own property.  On the second day we anchored in the bay, and were boarded by the authorities, who went down into the cabin, and had a long conversation with the captain.  They quitted the ship, and about an hour afterwards I proposed going ashore, but the captain said that he could not permit it until the next morning.  While I was expostulating with him as to the reasons for my detention, a boat rowed alongside, from out of which came two personages dressed in black.  I knew them to be familiars of the Inquisition; and it immediately occurred to me that my personification of the lady abbess had been discovered, and that my doom was sealed.  The captain pointed me out; they collared and handed me into the boat, and pulled for the shore in silence.

When we landed, I was put into a black coach, and conveyed to the palace of the Inquisition, where I was thrown into one of the lowest dungeons.  The next day the familiars appeared, and led me to the hall of judgment, where I was asked whether I confessed my crime.  I replied that I did not know what I was accused of.  They again asked me if I would confess, and on my making the same answer I was ordered to the torture.

As I knew that I had no chance, I thought I might as well avoid unnecessary pain, and declared that I did confess it.

“What instigated you to the deed?”

Not well knowing what to reply, as I was not exactly aware of the nature of my offence, I answered that it was the blessed Virgin.

“Blasphemer!” cried the grand inquisitor, “what! the blessed Virgin desired you to throw St Antonio overboard?”

“Yes,” replied I (glad that at all events the crime was not what I had anticipated), “she did, and told me that it would be the saving of the vessel.”

“Where were you?”

“On the deck.”

“Where did you see her?”

“She was sitting on a small blue cloud, a little above the topsail yard.  ‘Fear not, Francois,’ said she, motioning with her hand, ’to throw the image overboard.’” The inquisitors were astonished at my boldness:  a consultation was held, as to whether I should be treated as a blasphemer, or the circumstance blazoned into a miracle.  But it unfortunately happened for me that a miracle had occurred very lately; and there were very few people to be burnt at the auto da fe of the ensuing month.

It was therefore decided against me.  I was reviled, abused, and sentenced to the flames; but I determined, as my only chance, to put a good face upon the matter to the very last.  Looking up, as if to a point in the ceiling of the dark hall of judgment, and holding my hands before, as if in amazement ­“Holy Virgin,” cried I, bending on my knee, “I thank thee for the sign.  My Lord,” continued I fiercely, “I fear you not; you have sentenced me to perish by the flames; I tell you that I shall leave my dungeon with honour, and be as much courted as I have been now reviled.”

The inquisitors were for a moment staggered, but their surprise gave place to their cruelty, when they considered how long they had tortured thousands for doubting points to which they themselves had never for a moment given credence.  I was remanded to my dungeon; and the gaoler, who had never before witnessed such boldness in the hall of justice, and was impressed with the conviction that I was supported as I had affirmed, treated me with kindness, affording me comforts, which, had it been known, would have cost him his situation.

In the meantime the cargo of the vessel was landed at the Custom House, and she was hauled on shore to have her bottom caulked and pitched, when, to the astonishment of the captain and crew, the hole which had occasioned the leak was discovered with the head of the figure of the saint, which I had thrown overboard, so firmly wedged in, that it required some force to pull it out.  “A miracle! a miracle!” was cried from the quays, and proclaimed through every part of the town.  It was evident that the Virgin had instigated me to throw over the image, as the only means of stopping the leak.  The friars of the nearest convent claimed the image from their propinquity, and came down to the ship in grand procession to carry it to their church.  The grand inquisitor, hearing the circumstance, acknowledged to the bishop and heads of the clergy my intrepid behaviour in the hall of judgment; and not three hours after the ship had been hauled on shore, I was visited in my dungeon by the grand inquisitor, the bishop, and a long procession, my pardon requested, and the kiss of peace demanded and given.  I was taken away with every mark of respect, and looked upon as one under special favour of the Virgin.  “Did I not say, my lord, that I should leave my dungeon in honour?”

“You did, my friend,” answered the inquisitor; and I heard him mutter, “either there is such a person as the Virgin Mary, or you are a most ready-witted scoundrel.”

During my stay at Valencia, I was courted and feasted by everybody, and sold my goods at an enormous price; for everyone thought that to possess anything that had belonged to me must bring them good fortune.  I received many handsome presents, had divers requests to become a member of the different fraternities of monks, and eventually quitted the town with a large sum of money, with which I proceeded to Toulon, with the intention of making some inquiry after my dear Cerise, whose image was still the object of my dreams, as well as of my waking thoughts.

“Stop,” said the pacha; “I wish to know, whether you believe that the Virgin, as you call her, did thrust the head of the image into the hole in the bottom of the ship.”

“May it please your highness, I do not.  I believe it originated from nothing but cause and effect.  It is the nature of a whirlpool to draw down all substances that come within its vortex.  The water pouring into the bottom of the ship is but the vortex of a whirlpool reversed; and the image of the saint, when it was thrown overboard to leeward of the ship, which was pressed down upon it by the power of the wind, was forced under the water, until it was taken into the vortex of the leak, and naturally found its way into the hole.”

“I dare say you are very right,” answered the pacha, “but I don’t understand a word you have said.”

“Such your highness were the adventures attending my second voyage,” concluded the renegade, with an inclination of his head.

“And a very good voyage too!  I like it better than your first.  Mustapha, give him ten pieces of gold:  you will bring him here to-morrow, and we will hear what happened in his third.”

“You observe,” said Mustapha, when the pacha had retired, “my advice was good.”

“Most excellent!” replied the renegade, holding out his hand for the money:  “To-morrow I’ll lie like any barber.”