boards
on which he stood. A ball wounded him in the side, another from below
lodged in his spine; he staggered, clung to a window, then fell on the
sofa. "Hasten," he cried to one of his officers, "run, my friend, and
strangle my poor Basilissa; let her not fall a prey to these infamous
wretches."

The door opened, all resistance ceased, the guards hastened to escape
by the windows. Kursheed's sword-bearer entered, followed by the
executioners. "Let the justice of Allah be accomplished!" said a cadi.
At these words the executioners seized Ali, who was still alive, by the
beard, and dragged him out into the porch, where, placing his head on
one of the steps, they separated it from the body with many blows of a
jagged cutlass. Thus ended the career of the dreaded Ali Pacha.

His head still preserved so terrible and imposing an aspect that those
present beheld it with a sort of stupor. Kursheed, to whom it was
presented on a large dish of silver plate, rose to receive it, bowed
three times before it, and respectfully kissed the beard, expressing
aloud his wish that he himself might deserve a similar end. To such
an extent did the admiration with which Ali's bravery inspired these
barbarians efface the memory of his crimes. Kursheed ordered the head
to be perfumed with the most costly essences, and despatched to
Constantinople, and he allowed the Skipetars to render the last honours
to their former master.

Never was seen greater mourning than that of the warlike Epirotes.
During the whole night, the various Albanian tribes watched by turns
around the corpse, improvising the most eloquent funeral songs in its
honour. At daybreak, the body, washed and prepared according to the
Mohammedan ritual, was deposited in a coffin draped with a splendid
Indian Cashmere shawl, on which was placed a magnificent turban, adorned
with the plumes Ali had worn in battle. The mane of his charger was cut
off, and the animal covered with purple housings, while Ali's shield,
his sword, his numerous weapons, and various insignia were borne on the
saddles of several led horses. The cortege proceeded towards the castle,
accompanied by hearty imprecations uttered by the soldiers against the
"Son of a Slave," the epithet bestowed on their sultan by the Turks in
seasons of popular excitement.

The Selaon-Aga, an officer appointed to render the proper salutes, acted
as chief mourner, surrounded by weeping mourners, who made the ruins
of Janina ech