"I will come to you!" exclaimed Mohammed, drawing his friend to his
bosom. "Even as a slave would I come, for I should be my friend's
slave. I will come to you."




CHAPTER X

COUSROUF PACHA.


THE days had passed quietly and monotonously for Mohammed since the
death of his mother.

To climb among the rocks with his gun in stormy weather, to cross
over in his boat to Imbra, after the fishermen's nets and fish, and
to tame the young Arabian steeds of the tschorbadji that had as yet
known no bridle, these were now Mohammed's chief pursuits and
pleasures, and in them he engaged with passionate ardor when at
leisure, that is, when not with his friend Osman Bey.

That which they had vowed to each other after the death of
Mohammed's mother, they had kept-true and firm friendship, brotherly
and confidential intercourse. With one wish only of young Osman, had
Mohammed not complied: he had not gone to live with him in the
proud, governmental building-had refused to share his friend's
luxury and magnificence, and to allow his poverty to be put to shame
by the benefits which he would have been compelled to accept.