"Oh, no regrets, worthy Mussulman, there _is_ more of it!" cried the
Berber-Bashi, rising from his place; "just listen to the sequel of it!
Having had the girl sold by auction in the bazaar, the Padishah bade Ali
Kermesh, his trusty Berber-Bashi, make inquiries and see what happened
to the damsel _after_ the sale. Now the Berber-Bashi knew that the girl
had only pretended to faint, and the Berber-Bashi brought the girl back
to the Seraglio before she had spent a single night alone with her
husband. For I am the Berber-Bashi and thou art Gül-Bejáze, that same
slave-girl going by the name of Irene who feigned to be dead."

Everyone present leaped in terror to his feet except Janaki, who fell
down on his knees before the Berber-Bashi, embraced his knees, and
implored him to treat all that the girl had said as if he had not heard
it.

"We are lost!" whispered the bloodless Gül-Bejáze. The intoxication of
joy and wine had suddenly left her and she was sober once more.

Janaki implored, Musli cursed and swore, but Halil spake never a word.
He held his wife tightly embraced in his arms and he thought within
himself, I would rather allow my hand to be chopped off than let her go.

Janaki promised money and loads of treasure to Ali Kermesh if only he
would hold his tongue, say nothing of what had happened, and let the
girl remain with her husband.

But the Berber-Bashi was inexorable.

"No," said he, "I will take away the girl, and your treasures also shall
be mine. Ye are the children of Death; yea, all of you who are now