"Allah protect me!" exclaimed the old man, as he made an attempt to pluck
out his beard, which the shackles on his wrists rendered ineffectual.
"Allah protect me! Is it not enough that I have fallen into captivity? Am
I also doomed to pass the night under the same roof with an unbeliever,
even as the Nazarenes are?"

"May the bolt of Heaven fall on thy lying tongue!" exclaimed the youth in
great wrath. "I an unbeliever! I, Ibrahim, the adopted son of Hassan,
pacha of Bosnia!"

In deepest humility did the old merchant bow his head, and endeavour to
lay hold of the hem of the young man's crimson caftan, in order to carry
it to his lips.

"Enough! enough!" said Ibrahim, whose good temper had returned. "You spoke
in haste and ignorance. I am well pleased when I break no commandment of
the Koran; and trouble my head little about the sayings of those babbling
greybeards, the twelve holy Imaums."

"But the nooses," expostulated Hassan, not a little scandalized by his
companion's words.

"You have nothing to do but to sleep all night without awaking," replied
the young Turk laughing. "Then you will have no need either to wash or
pray."

The superstitious old man turned his face to the wall in consternation and
anguish of spirit.