The tschorbadji offered his hand to Mohammed, bowing and smiling
kindly. "Mohammed, I wish you would, at last, yield to the united
prayers of my son and myself, and would consent to live in this
house. Let me have two sons, and I shall be doubly rich."

"In veneration I will be your son," replied Mohammed, pressing the
governor's hand to his brow; "I will obey you in all things! One
thing alone do not demand--that I shall irrevocably relinquish my
freedom. Let me come and go at my pleasure. Love always draws me
back to my Osman, even when, in the restlessness of my heart, I
wander on the sea, or in the mountains, or remain solitary in my
silent hut. Friendship for you has bound chains about my soul, and I
must always return. Leave to me the feeling of independence, or I
shall not be happy."

Osman nodded smilingly to him. "It shall be as you wish, and we will
never weary him again, my father, with our prayers. He will return
to us, he says, and Mohammed always keeps his word. But look, father
what can be the matter with these two officers who are hurrying
toward us?"

"They seem to have met with some misfortune; they look pale and
excited, and are coming here without being announced," he said,
rising from his cushions, and beckoning to the collectors, who had
remained respectfully standing at the entrance, to come forward.--
"Well, what is the matter? You look as disturbed as if something
dreadful had happened to you!"

"Yes, governor, something dreadful has happened," they answered,
bowing deeply. "We have been down to Praousta, as your excellency