any fear of fire, after which
they amused themselves by rolling on the bags of gold. At this moment
my mother seized me in her arms, and hurrying noiselessly along numerous
turnings and windings known only to ourselves, she arrived at a private
staircase of the kiosk, where was a scene of frightful tumult and
confusion. The lower rooms were entirely filled with Koorshid's troops;
that is to say, with our enemies. Just as my mother was on the point of
pushing open a small door, we heard the voice of the pasha sounding in
a loud and threatening tone. My mother applied her eye to the crack
between the boards; I luckily found a small opening which afforded me a
view of the apartment and what was passing within. 'What do you want?'
said my father to some people who were holding a paper inscribed with
characters of gold. 'What we want,' replied one, 'is to communicate to
you the will of his highness. Do you see this firman?'--'I do,' said my
father. 'Well, read it; he demands your head.'

"My father answered with a loud laugh, which was more frightful than
even threats would have been, and he had not ceased when two reports of
a pistol were heard; he had fired them himself, and had killed two men.
The Palikares, who were prostrated at my father's feet, now sprang up
and fired, and the room was filled with fire and smoke. At the same
instant the firing began on the other side, and the balls penetrated the
boards all round us. Oh, how noble did the grand vizier my father look
at that moment, in the midst of the flying bullets, his scimitar in his
hand, and his face blackened with the powder of his enemies! and how he
terrified them, even then, and made them fly before him! 'Selim, Selim!'
cried he, 'guardian of the fire, do your duty!'--'Selim is dead,'
replied a voice which seemed to come from the depths of the earth, 'and
you are lost, Ali!' At the same moment an explosion was heard, and the
flooring of the room in which my father was sitting was suddenly torn up
and shivered to atoms--the troops were firing from underneath. Three or
four Palikares fell with their bodies literally ploughed with wounds.

"My father howled aloud, plunged his fingers into the holes which the
balls had made, and tore up one of the planks entire. But immediately
through this opening twenty more shots were fired, and the flame,
rushing up like fire from the crater of a volcano, soon reached the
tapestry, which it quickly devoured. In the midst of a