Turk, sipping his coffee. "The Hakim
speaks wisely."

"May I murder my mother!" exclaimed a young Janissary, with great
indignation. "But this is the very thing that makes me wild against
Amurath. Is not this princess a daughter of that accursed Giaour, that
dog of dogs, Hunniades? and has he not offered for her ransom our brave
Karam Bey himself, and his chosen warriors? and has not Amurath said
nay? And why has he said nay? Because his son, the Prince of Mahomed,
instead of fighting against the Giaours, has looked upon one of their
women, and has become a Mejnoun. Pah! May I murder my mother, but if the
Giaours were in full march to the city, I'd not fight. And let him tell
this to the Cadi who dares; for there are ten thousand of us, and we
have sworn by the Kettle but we will not fight for Giaours, or those who
love Giaours!"

"If you mean me, Ali, about going to the Cadi," said the chief eunuch of
Mahomed, who was standing by, "let me tell you I am no tale-bearer,
and scorn to do an unmanly act. The young prince can beat the Giaours
without the aid of those who are noisy enough in a coffee-house when
they are quiet enough in the field. And, for the rest of the business,
you may all ease your hearts; for the Frangy princess you talk of is
pining away, and will soon die. The Sultan has offered a hundred purses
of gold to any one who cures her; but the gold will never be counted by
the Hasnadar, or I will double it."

"Try your fortune, Hakim," said several laughing loungers to Iskander.

"Allah has stricken the Frangy princess," said the old Turk with a white
beard.

"He will strike all Giaours," said his ancient companion, sipping his
coffee. "It is so written."

"Well! I do not like to hear of women slaves pining to death," said the
young Janissary, in a softened tone, "particularly when they are young.
Amurath should have ransomed her, or he might have given her to one of
his officers, or any young fellow that had particularly distinguished
himself." And so, twirling his mustachios, and flinging down his
piastre, the young Janissary strutted out of the coffee-house.

"When we were young," said the old Turk with the white beard to his
companion, shaking his head, "when we were young--"

"We conquered Anatolia, and never opened our mouths," rejoined his
companion.

"I never offered an opinion till I was sixty," said the old Turk; "and
then it was one which had been in our family for a century."

"No wo