n him, filled his pipe, brought him hot coffee,
and watched his every movement. They were richly dressed, more richly
and gaily, perchance, than they had ever been in the days of freedom,
when they had been wont to chat and laugh with careless hilarity. But
they were mute enough now. A few of them had tasted the bastinado and
been tamed; most of them had been wise enough to tame themselves. If
Shakespeare had been a Turk he would probably have written a very
different version of the Taming of the Shrew!

When coffee was finished, the Dey ordered the attendants to withdraw,
and then settling himself comfortably on the cushions, and puffing two
white streams of smoke slowly through his nose, in order to gather the
fullest enjoyment therefrom, he thus addressed himself to his
better-proportion--we had almost said "half," but forgot for the moment
that there were several Sultanas!

"Ashweesha, thou art a wise woman. I might almost style thee my
guardian angel, for not only hast thou often guided me on the right
road, but sometimes thou hast prevented me from straying into the
wrong."

Ashweesha, who was a sweet and passably good-looking woman of about
thirty, raised her large dark eyes to the face of Achmet with a look of
gratitude, but did not reply. Indeed, her husband did not seem to
expect an answer, for he continued to smoke for some time in silence,
with his eyes fixed abstractedly on a tame gazelle--the kitten of the
harem--which tried to attract his attention.

"Thou art sad, or anxious, to-night," said Ashweesha, at length breaking
silence.

"Both sad and anxious," replied the Dey slowly. "My position is indeed
one of power, but not of comfort or safety."

A shade rested for a moment like a flitting cloud on the face of
Ashweesha. Gladly would she have exchanged her high estate, with all
its costly and gorgeous array, for a life of humble toil accompanied
with peace and security--for she was of gentle nature--but this was
denied her.

"Listen," said the Dey, laying aside his pipe and talking earnestly; "it
may well chance, as it has happened before, that thy counsel may lighten
my care. I am sad because two of my chief officers are snakes in the
grass. They are venomous too, and their bite will prove deadly if it be
not avoided. Canst thou guess their names, Ashweesha?"

"Sidi Omar and Sidi Hassan," said Ashweesha.

Achmet looked surprised.

"Thou art partly right, though I did not expect th