d satisfying himself as to their capabilities, bought
the pair of them from the merchant at his own price--the youth for the
Sultan's corps of pages, the girl for the harem.

To the honor of the worthy merchant, however, it must be said that
when he did hand the children over he sobbed bitterly. Good, worthy
man!

CHAPTER XIII

A BALL IN THE SERAGLIO

It was the birthday of the Sultana Valideh. The Sultana, Mahmoud's
mother, was, we may remember, a Frenchwoman, whose parents, natives of
the Isle of Martinique, had sent her to Paris while still very young,
and placed her, till she was sixteen, in a convent to be educated.
Then the family sent word that she was to return to the beautiful
island on the farther side of Africa; but during the voyage a tempest
destroyed the ship, and the crew had to take to the boats. One of
these boats, in which was the pretty French girl, was captured by
Barbary corsairs, who sold her to the Sultan. The rest we know, of
course--

"Elle eut beau dire: Je me meurs!
De nonne elle devient Sultane!"

Those poor flowers that are brought together from all the corners of
the earth to stock the Grand Signior's harem, and who know nothing
except how to love, paled before the radiant loveliness and the
sparkling wit of this damsel, who had been brought up in the midst of
European culture. She became the favorite wife of Selim, she bore him
Mahmoud, and her son loved his mother much better than all his damsels
put together.

A great surprise had been prepared for the Sultana Valideh. The Sultan
had arranged the whole thing himself in secret. He was going to give a
dance, after the European fashion, in the Seraglio.

Tailors were brought from Vienna who set to work upon dresses in the
latest fashion for the odalisks; the eunuchs were taught the latest
waltz music, a minuet, and two French square dances; and the girls
were all taught how to dance these dances. The men who had admittance
into the harem, the Kizlar-Agasi, the Anaktar Bey, the heir to the
throne (Abdul Mejid), and the Sultan himself, wore brown European
dress-suits, so that when the Sultana stepped into the magnificently
illuminated porcelain chamber she stood rooted to the floor with
astonishment. She imagined herself to be at a court ball at Paris,
just as she had seen it at the Louvre when a child. A surging mob of
hundreds and hundreds of young odalisks was proudly strutting to and
fro in stylish dresses of t