Arise, then, and gird upon thy thigh the sword of thy illustrious
ancestor Muhammad! Descend in the midst of thy host which yearns for the
light of thy countenance, as the eyes of the sleepless yearn for the sun
to rise, and put an end to the long night of waiting."

Achmed's gentle gaze rested upon the speaker abstractedly. It seemed as
if, while the Chief Mufti was speaking, he had not heard a single word
of the passionate discourse that had been addressed to him.

"My faithful servants!" said he, smiling pleasantly, "this day is to me
a day of felicity. The Sultana Asseki at dawn to-day saw a vision
worthy of being realised. A dazzling festival was being celebrated in
the streets of Stambul, and the whole city shone in the illumination
thereof. The gardens of the puspáng-trees and the courtyards of the
kiosks around the Sweet Waters were bright with the radiance of lamps
and tulips. Waving palm-trees and gardens full of sugar-flowers
traversed the streets, and galleys and fortresses perambulated the
piazzas on wheels. That dream was too lovely to remain a dream. It must
be made a reality."

The Chief Mufti folded his hands across his breast and bent low before
the Padishah.

"Allah Akbar! Allah Kerim! God is mighty. Be it even as thou dost
command! May the sun rise in the west if it be thy will, oh Padishah!"
And the Chief Mufti drew aside and was silent.

But the aged Grand Vizier, Damad Ibrahim, came forward, and drying his
tearful eyes with the corner of his kaftan, stood sorrowfully in front
of the Padishah. And these were his words: