Zeinab entered with her veil down. "Your slave attends the pleasure of
her lord."

"Zeinab," said the pacha, "do you love me?"

"Do not I worship the dust that my lord treads on?"

"Very true--then I have a favour to request--observe, Zeinab--it is my
wish that"--(here the pacha took a few whiffs from his pipe--) "The fact
is--I wish you to dishonour my harem as soon as possible."

"Wallah sel Nebi!!--by Allah and the Prophet! your highness is in a
merry humour this evening," replied Zeinab, turning round to quit the
apartment.

"On the contrary, I am in a serious humour; I mean what I have said; and
I expect that you will comply with my wishes."

"Is my lord mad? or has he indulged too freely in the juice of the grape
forbidden by our prophet? Allah Kebur! God is most powerful--The Hakim
must be sent for."

"Will you do as I order you?" said the pacha, angrily.

"Does my lord send for his slave to insult her! My blood is as water, at
the dreadful thought!--Dishonour the harem!--Min Allah! God
forbid!--Would not the eunuch be ready and the sack?"

"Yes, they would, I acknowledge; but still it must be done."