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Halil the Pedlar - A Tale of Old Stambul by Mór Jókai
page 8 of 249 (03%)
from the dark-blue sky. The kiosks fade into darkness; the vast outlines
of the Rumili Hisar and the Anatoli Hisar stand out against the starry
heaven; and excepting the lamps lit here and there in the khans of the
foreign merchants and a few minarets, the whole of the gigantic city is
wrapped in gloom.

The muezzin intone the evening _noómát_ from the slender turrets of the
mosques; everyone hastens to get home before night has completely set
in; the mule-drivers urge on their beasts laden on both sides with
leather bottles, and their tinkling bells resound in the narrow streets;
the shouting water-carriers and porters, whose long shoulder-poles block
up the whole street, scare out of their way all whom they meet; whole
troops of dogs come forth from the cemeteries to fight over the offal of
the piazzas. Every true believer endeavours as soon as possible to get
well behind bolts and bars, and would regard it as a sheer tempting of
Providence to quit his threshold under any pretext whatsoever before the
morning invocation of the muezzin. He especially who at such a time
should venture to cross the piazza of the Etmeidan would have been
judged very temerarious or very ill-informed, inasmuch as three of the
gates of the barracks of the Janissaries open upon this piazza; and the
Janissaries, even when they are in a good humour, are not over
particular as to the sort of jokes they choose to play, for their own
private amusement, upon those who may chance to fall into their hands.
Every faithful Mussulman, therefore, guards his footsteps from any
intrusion into the Etmeidan, as being in duty bound to know and observe
that text of the Koran which says, "A fool is he who plunges into peril
that he might avoid."

The tattoo had already been beaten with wooden sticks on a wooden board,
when two men encountered each other in one of the streets leading into
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