In the gate of the Pasha of Grosswardein, amidst the gaping throng of armed retainers there, could be seen a pale wizened Moslem idly sprawling on the threshold, apparently regardless of everything, but sometimes looking up, cat-like, with half-shut, dreamy eyes, and at such times he would smile craftily to himself.

Suddenly a handsome, chivalrous youth galloped out of the gate before whom the soldiers bowed down to the earth; this was the Pasha's favourite horseman, Feriz Beg, who had just arrived from Stambul.

The Beg, as if he had only by accident caught sight of the sprawling Moslem, turned towards him, tapped him on the shoulder with his lance, and while the latter, feigning ignorance and astonishment, gazed up at him, he drew nearer to him and said:

"What ZÜlfikar! dost thou not recognise me?"

The person so addressed bowed himself to the earth.

"Allah is gracious! By the soul of the Prophet, is it thou, gracious sir?" and with that he got up and began walking by the side of the horse of the Beg, who beckoned him to follow.

"I have lost a good deal of money and a good many horses over the dice-box at Stambul, ZÜlfikar," said Feriz Beg, "so I have come into these parts to rehabilitate my purse a little. Where dost thou go a-robbing now, ZÜlfikar?"

"La illah, il Allah! God is gracious and Mohammed is His holy Prophet," said ZÜlfikar, rolling his eyes heavenwards."A truce to this piety, ZÜlfikar; ye renegades, with unendurable shamelessness, are always glorifying the Prophet, born Turks don't mention him half as much. What I ask thee is, where dost thou go a-plundering now of nights?"

"I thank thee, gracious sir," answered ZÜlfikar, making a wooden picture of his face, "my wife is quite well, and there is nothing amiss with me either."

"ZÜlfikar, I value in thee that peculiarity of thine which enables thee to become deaf whenever thou desirest it, but I possess a very good remedy for that evil, and if thou wilt I will cure thee of it."

ZÜlfikar dodged the lance which was turned in his direction, and said with a Pharisaical air:

"What does your honour deign to inquire of me?"

"Didst thou hear what I said to thee just now?"

"Dost thou mean: where I went robbing? I swear by the beard of the Prophet that I go nowhither for such a purpose."

"I know very well, thou cat, that thou goest nowhither where there is trouble, but thou dost ferret out where a fat booty lies hidden, and thou leadest our Spahis on the track of it, wherefore they give thee also a portion of it; so answer me at once whom thou art wont to visit at night, as otherwise I shall open a hole in thy head."

"But, sir, betray me not; for the Spahis would tie me to a horse's tail and the Pasha would impale me. Thou knowest that he does not allow robbery, but if it happens he looks through his fingers."

"So far from betraying thee I would go with thee, I only know one mode of getting hold of booty. While the others storm a village, I stand a little distance off at the farther end of the village; whoever has anything to save always makes for the farther end of the village, and so falls into my hands."

The renegade began to feel in his element.

"My good sir, at night the Spahis will go to Élesd. There dwell rich Wallachians away from the high road. They have never had blackmail levied on them and there's lots of gold and silver there; if we get a good haul, do not betray me."

"But may we not fall in with the soldiers of Ladislaus SzÉkely?"

"Nay, sir," said ZÜlfikar, winking his eyes, "they are far from here. Do not betray thy faithful servant."

Feriz Beg put spurs to his horse and galloped off. ZÜlfikar sat down in the gate again, very sleepily blinking his eyes, and smiling mysteriously.

Towards evening four-and-twenty Spahis crept out of the fortress and made off in the direction of Élesd. Feriz Beg kept an eye upon them, and when they had disappeared in the woods he aroused his Albanian horsemen and quietly went after them.

It was past midnight when Feriz Beg and his company reached the hillside covering Élesd. The Spahis had already plundered the place as was evident from the distant uproar, the loud shrieks, the pealing of bells, and a couple of flaming haystacks which the mauraders had set on fire to assist their operations.

Feriz Beg posted his Albanian horsemen at the mouth of a narrow pass, divided them into four bands and ordered them all to remain as quiet as possible and wait patiently till the Spahis returned.

After some hours of plundering the distant tumult died away, and instead of it could be heard approaching a sound of loud wrangling. Presently, in the deep valley below, the Spahis became visible, staggering under the stolen goods, dispersed into twos and threes and quarrelling together over their booty.

Feriz Beg let them come into the narrow pass and when they were quite unsuspiciously at the height of their dispute, he suddenly blew his horn and then suddenly fell upon them from all sides with his Albanian horsemen, surrounded and attacked the marauders, and before they had had time to use their weapons began to cut them down. The tussle was a short one. Not one of the Albanians fell, not one of the Spahis escaped.

Feriz dried his sword and leaving the dead Spahis on the road, galloped back with his band to Grosswardein.

In the Pasha's gate he again encountered ZÜlfikar and, shaking his fist at him, dismounted from his horse.

"Thou dog! thou hast betrayed us to Ladislaus SzÉkely; the Spahis have all been cut down."

ZÜlfikar turned yellow with fear. It is true that he usually did something like this: when the Spahis would only promise him a small portion of the booty, he would for a few ducats extra let the Hungarian generals know of their coming, when one or two of them would bite the dust and the rest return without the booty. Last night also he had told the captain of Klausenberg of this particular adventure, but the commandant had been unable to make any use of it, for it had been the Prince's birthday, and he had been obliged to treat the soldiers.

ZÜlfikar felt a lump in his throat when he heard that all twenty-four of the Spahis had perished, and he immediately quitted the fortress and made his way to Klausenberg through the woods as hard as he could pelt.

Feriz Beg, however, in great wrath, paid a visit upon the Pasha.

"Your Excellency," said he, assuming a very severe countenance, "this is the sort of allies we have. Last night I went on an excursion, taking four-and-twenty Spahis with me, in order to purchase horses for myself in the neighbourhood. We dealt honourably with the dealers. I entrusted the horses to the Spahis and myself galloped on in front. In a narrow pass the soldiers of Ladislaus SzÉkely laid an ambush for the Spahis, surrounded them and cut them off to a man. When I came to their assistance there they were all lying slain and the slayers had trotted off on my own good steeds. Most gracious sir, that is treachery, our own allies do us a mischief. I will not put up with it, but if thou dost not give me complete satisfaction, I will go myself to Klausenberg and put every one of them to the sword, from Master Michael Apafi down to Master Ladislaus SzÉkely."

Ajas Pasha, whose special favourite Feriz Beg was, laughed loudly at this demonstration, patted the youth's cheek, and said in a consolatory voice:

"Nay, my dear son, do not so, nor waste the fire of thy enthusiasm upon these infidels. I have a short method of doing these things—leave it to me."

And thereupon he sent for an aga, and gave him a command in the following terms:

"Sit on thy horse and go quickly to Klausenberg. There go to the commandant, Ladislaus SzÉkely, and speak to him thus: Ajas Pasha wishes thee good-day, thou unbelieving giaour, and sends thee this message: Inasmuch as thy dog-headed servants during the night last past have treacherously fallen upon the men of Feriz Beg and cut down four-and-twenty of them, now therefore I require of thee to search for and send me instantly these murderers, otherwise the whole weight of my wrath shall descend upon thine own head. Moreover, in the place of the horses stolen from him, see that thou send to me without delay just as many good chargers of Wallachia, and beware lest I come for them myself, for then thou wilt have no cause to thank me."

When the aga had learnt the message by heart he withdrew, and Ajas Pasha turned to Feriz Beg complacently:

"Trouble not thyself further," said he, "in a couple of days the murderers will be here."

"I want the Prince to intercede for them himself," said Feriz Beg.

"And dost thou not believe then that the little finger of the Sublime Porte is able to give thee the lives of a few giaour hirelings, when it sends forth thousands to perish on the battle-field?"

"And I will venture to bet a hundred ducats that Master Ladislaus SzÉkely will reply that his soldiers were not out of the fortress at all last night."

"I am sorry for thy hundred ducats, my dear son, but I will take thy bet all the same; and, if I lose, I will cut just as many pieces out of the skin of Master Ladislaus SzÉkely."

The terrified ZÜlfikar was almost at his last gasp by the time he reached the courtyard of Master Ladislaus SzÉkely, where, greatly exhausted, he obtained an audience of the commandant, who was resplendent in a great mantle trimmed with galloon and adorned with rubies and emeralds. This love of display was the good old gentleman's weak point. He had the most beautiful collection of precious stones in all Transylvania; the nearest way to his heart was to present him with a rare and beautiful jewel.

He was engaged in furbishing up a necklace of chrysoprases and jacinths with a hare's foot when the renegade breathlessly rushed through the door unable to utter a word for sheer weariness. Ladislaus SzÉkely fancied that ZÜlfikar had come for the reward of his treachery, and very bluntly hastened to anticipate him.

"I was unable to make any use of your information, ZÜlfikar; it was the Prince's name-day, and the soldiers were not at liberty to leave the town."

"How can your honour say so," stuttered ZÜlfikar; "you had four-and-twenty Spahis cut down at Élesd. What fool told your honour to kill them? You should merely have deprived them of their booty."

Ladislaus SzÉkely let fall his necklace in his fright and gazed at the renegade with big round eyes.

"Don't be a fool, ZÜlfikar, my son! Not a soul was outside this fortress to-day or yesterday."

"Your honour has been well taught what to say," said the renegade, with the insolence of fury; "you put on as innocent a face over the business as a new-born lamb."

"I swear to you I don't understand a word of your nonsense."

"Of course, of course! Capital! Excellent! But your honour would do well to keep these falsehoods for the messengers of Ajas Pasha, who will be with your honour immediately; try and fool them if you like, but don't fool me."

Ladislaus SzÉkely, well aware that every word he said was the sacred truth, fancied that ZÜlfikar's assertion was only a rough joke which he wanted to play upon him, so he cast an angry look on the renegade.

"Be off, my son ZÜlfikar, and cease joking; or I'll beat you about the head with this hare's foot till I knock all the moonshine out of you."

"Your honour had best keep your hare's foot to yourself, for if I draw my Turkish dagger I'll make you carry your own head."

"Be off, be off, my son!" cried SzÉkely, looking around for a stick, and perceiving a cane in the corner with a large silver knob he seized it. "And now are you going, or I shall come to you?" he added.

ZÜlfikar had just caught sight, meanwhile, through the window of the aga sent by Ajas Pasha, and fearing to encounter him, hastily skipped through the door, which sudden flight was attributed by Master Ladislaus SzÉkely to his own threats of violence. He followed close upon the heels of the fugitive, and ran almost into the very arms of the aga; whereupon, the aga, also flying into a rage, belaboured the commandant with his fists, reviled his father, his mother, and his remotest ancestry, and only after that began to deliver the message of Ajas Pasha, which he enlarged and embellished with the choicest flowers of an angry man's rhetoric.

At these words Ladislaus SzÉkely changed colour as often as a genuine opal, or as a fractured polyporus fungus. It was clear to him that someone or other had just slain a number of marauding Spahis, but he knew very well that neither he nor his men had performed this heroic deed, for that particular evening they had all been safe and sound at ten o'clock, and yet he was expected to pay the piper!

"Gracious sir, unconquerable aga," he said at last, "my men the whole of that evening were on duty beneath the windows of the Prince, and the same evening I myself closed the city gates, so that no living thing except a bird could get out. Therefore, I pray you ask not of me the slayers of the Spahis, for never in my life have I killed one of them."

The aga gnashed his teeth, and stared wildly about, as if seeking for big words worthy of the occasion.

"Darest thou say such things to me, thou wine-drinking infidel?" he cried at last. "I know very well that thou, single-handed, hast not cut down four-and-twenty Spahis; rather do I believe there were two thousand of you that fell upon them, but these thou must give up to me, every man-jack of them."

Large drops of perspiration began to ooze out upon the forehead of the commandant, and in his embarrassment it occurred to him that deeds were better than words, so he seized the chain covered with chrysoprases and jacinths, which he had just been polishing, and handed them in a deprecating manner to the Turk, knowing that such a line of defence was most likely to obtain a hearing.

But the envoy gave the chain handed to him such a kick that the precious stones were scattered all over the deal boards, and, trampling them beneath his feet, he roared with a blood-red face:

"I want the murderers, not your precious stones."

The commandant thereupon seeing that the aga's embassy was really a serious matter, took him down to the soldiers, who were drawn up in the courtyard, in order to ask each one of them in the hearing of the envoy: "Where were you during the night in question?" Naturally everyone of them was able to prove an alibi, not one of them could be suspected.

The aga very nearly had an overflow of gall. He said nothing, he only rolled his eyes; and when the last soldier had denied any share in the death of the Turks, he leaped upon his horse, and threatening them with his fist, growled through his gnashing teeth:

"Wait, ye also shall have your St. Demetrius' day!"21 and with that he galloped back to Grosswardein.

On his arrival he found Feriz Beg with the Pasha, and at once told his story, exaggerating the details to the uttermost.

"What did I tell thee?" said Feriz to the Pasha; "didn't I say they would send back the message that they had never quitted the town. I am sorry for your honour's hundred ducats."

At these words Ajas Pasha kicked over his chibouk and his saucer of sherbet, and in a hoarse, scarce intelligible voice, said to the aga:

"Be off this instant to Stambul as fast as thou canst. Tell the Grand Vizier what has happened, and say to him that if he does not give me the amplest satisfaction, I myself will go against these unbelieving devourers of unruminating beasts who have dared to send me such a message, and will destroy them, together with their strongholds; or else I will cast my sword to the ground, and tie a girdle round my loins, and go away and join the brotherhood of Iskender! Say that, and forget it not!"

Very soon one firman after another reached the Prince from Stambul, each one of which, with steadily rising wrath, demanded the extradition of the assassins of the Spahis. The Prince made inquiries and searched for them everywhere, but nobody could be found to take upon his shoulders this uncommitted deed of heroism.

The messages from the Porte assumed a more and more furious tone every day. In itself the death of four-and-twenty Spahis was no very serious stumbling-block, but what more than anything lashed the Turkish generals into a fury was the persistent refusal of the Prince to acknowledge the offence. Yet with the best will in the world he was unable to do anything else, for not a single person on whom suspicion might fall could he find throughout the Principality.

In those days the dungeons of Klausenburg were well filled with condemned robbers; in the past year alone no fewer than thirty incendiaries had been discovered who had resolved to fire all Transylvania.

One day the noble Martin PÓk, the provost-marshal of the place, appeared before the robbers, and attracted the attention of the most evil-disposed of these cut-throats and incendiaries by shouting at them:

"You worthless gallows-dogs, which of you would like to be set free at any price?"

"I would! I would!" cried a whole lot of them.

"Bread is going to be dear, so we cannot waste it on the like of you, so Master Ladislaus SzÉkely has determined that whoever of you would like to become Turks are to be handed over to our gracious master, Ajas Pasha, who will make some of you Janissaries, and send the rest to the isle of Samos; so whoever will be a Turk, let him speak."

Everyone of them wanted to be a Turk.

"Very well, you rascals, just attend to me! I must tell you what to say when you stand before the Pasha, for if you answer foolishly you will be bastinadoed. First of all he will ask you: 'Are you Master Ladislaus SzÉkely's men?' You will answer: 'Yes, we are!' Then he will ask you: 'Were you at Élesd on a certain day?' And you must admit that you were. Finally, he will ask you if you met Feriz Beg there? You will admit everything, and then he will instantly release you from servitude. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes!" roared the incendiaries; and dancing in their fetters they followed the provost-marshal upstairs, who turned his extraordinary small head back from time to time to smile at them, at the same time twisting the ends of his poor thin moustache with an air of crafty self-satisfaction.

One day two letters reached Grosswardein from Stambul. One of these letters was from Kucsuk Pasha to his son, the other was from the Sultan to Ajas Pasha.

The letter to Feriz Beg was as follows:

Feriz Beg understood the allusion, and went at once to the Pasha in the best of humours.

"Listen to what the omnipotent Sultan writes," said the Pasha, producing a parchment sealed with green wax, adorned below with the official signature of the Sultan, the so-called Tugra, which was not unlike a bird's-nest made of spiders'-webs.

Feriz Beg pressed the parchment to his forehead and his lips, and the further he read into it the more his face filled with surprise and joy.

"Dost thou believe now that we shall get the murderers?" asked Ajas Pasha triumphantly.

"Never!" said Feriz Beg, laughing aloud and beside himself with joy.

"What dost thou say?" growled the astonished Ajas; "but suppose we go for them ourselves?"

"Well!" said Feriz, perceiving that he had nearly betrayed himself, "in that case—yes." But he said to himself "Not then or ever; and Paul BÉldi will be released, and Paul BÉldi will become Prince, and his wife will be Princess Consort, and Aranka will be a Princess too, and we shall see each other again."

At that moment an aga entered the room and announced with a look of satisfaction:

"Master Ladislaus SzÉkely has now sent the murderers."

Feriz Beg reeled backwards. The word "impossible" hung upon his lips, and he nearly let it escape. It was impossible.

"Let them come in!" said Ajas Pasha viciously. He would have preferred to carry out the Sultan's conditional command, seize the Principality, and conduct the campaign personally.

Feriz Beg fancied he was dreaming when he saw the forty or fifty selected rascals who, led by Martin PÓk, drew up before Ajas Pasha; the rogues were dressed up as soldiers but thief, criminal, was written on the face of each one of them.

Master Martin PÓk exhibited them to the Pasha and Feriz Beg, and very wisely stood aside from them. Feriz Beg clapped his hands together in astonishment. He knew better than anyone that these fellows had never seen the Spahis, and he waited to hear what they would say.

Ajas Pasha sat on his sofa with a countenance as cold as marble, and at a sign from him a file of Janissaries formed behind the backs of the rascals, who tried to look as pleasant and smiling as possible before the Pasha to gain his favour.

"Ye are Master Ladislaus SzÉkely's men, eh?" inquired the Pasha of the false heroes.

"We are—at thy service, unconquerable Pasha," they replied with one voice, folding their hands across their breasts and bowing down to the very ground.

The Pasha beckoned to the Janissaries to come softly up behind each one of them.

"Ye were at Élesd at midnight on the day of St. Michael the Archangel, eh?" he asked again.

"We were indeed—at thy service invincible Pasha!" they repeated striking their knees with their foreheads.

Feriz Beg rent his clothes in his rage. He would have liked to have roared at them: "Ye lie, you rascals! You were not there at all!" but he was obliged to keep silence.

Ajas beckoned again to the Janissaries, and very nicely and quietly they drew their swords from their sheaths, and, grasping them firmly, concealed them behind their backs.

The Pasha put the third question to the robbers.

"Ye met Feriz Beg, eh?"

"Lie not!" cried Feriz furiously. "Look well at me! Have you ever seen me anywhere before? Did you ever meet me at Élesd?"

The interrogated, bowing to the earth, replied with the utmost devotion: "Yes—at your service, invincible Pasha and most valiant Beg!"

At that same instant the swords flashed in the hands of the Janissaries, and the heads of the robbers suddenly rolled at their feet.

"Oh, ye false knaves!" cried Feriz Beg, striking his forehead with his clenched fist.

Ajas Pasha turned coolly towards Martin PÓk: "Greet thy master, and tell him from me that another time he must be quicker, and not make me angry.—As for thee, Feriz, my son, pay me back those hundred ducats!"