floor appeared to serve as table and
repository of everything in it, for the walls were bare. At the
fireplace, in which were a few embers, crouched an old woman, a
personification of age, poverty, and starvation. She was warming her
shrivelled hands over the embers, and occasionally passed one of her
hands along her bony arm, saying, "Yes, the time has been--the time has
been."

"What can she mean," said the pacha to Mustapha, "by 'the time has
been'?"

"It requires explanation," replied the vizier; "this is certain, that it
must mean something."

"Thou hast said well, Mustapha; let us knock, and obtain admittance."
Mustapha knocked at the door of the hovel.

"There's nothing to steal, so you may as well go," screamed the old
woman; "but," continued she, talking to herself, "the time has been--the
time has been."

The pacha desired Mustapha to knock louder. Mustapha applied the hilt of
his dagger, and thumped against the door.

"Ay--ay--you may venture to knock now, the sultan's slippers are not at
the door," said the old woman: "but," continued she, as before, "the
time has been--the time has been."

"Sultan's slippers! and time has been!" cried the pacha. "What does the
old hag mean? Knock again, Mustapha."

Mustapha reiterated his blows."

"Ay--knock--knock--my door is like my mouth; I open it when I choose,
and I keep it shut when I choose, as once was well known. The time has
been--the time has been."

"We have been a long time standing here, and I am tired of waiting; so,
Mustapha, I think the time is come to kick the door open. Let it be
done."

Whereupon Mustapha put his foot to the door, but it resisted his
efforts. "Let me assist," said the pacha, and retreated a few paces; he
and Mustapha backed against the door with all their force. It flew open,
and they rolled together on the floor of the hovel. The old woman
screamed, and then, jumping on the body of the pacha, caught him by the
throat, crying, "Thieves; murder!" Mustapha hastened to the assistance
of his master, as did the two black slaves, when they heard the cries,
and with some difficulty the talons of the old Jezebel were disengaged
from the throat of the pacha, who, in his wrath, would have immediately
sacrificed her. "Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil!" exclaimed the
pacha; "but this is pretty treatment for a pacha."

"Knowest thou, vile wretch, that thou hast taken by the throat, and
nearly strangled, the Lord of Life--the p