END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER ONE.

The next morning the pacha and his minister, after the business of the divan, with their heads aching from the doubts of Hudusi, or the means that they had taken to remove them, in not the best humour in the world listened to the continuation of them, as follows:--

I have heard it observed, continued Hudusi, that the sudden possession of gold will make a brave man cautious, and he who is not brave, still more dastardly than he was before. It certainly was the case with me; my five hundred pieces of gold had such an effect, that every thing in the shape of valour oozed out at my fingers' ends. I reflected again, and the result was, that I determined to have nothing more to do with the business, and that neither the sultan nor the pacha should be the better for my exertions. That night we made a sally; and as I was considered a prodigy of valour, I was one of those who were ordered to lead on my troop. I curled my moustachios, swore I would not leave a janissary alive, flourished my scimitar, marched out at the head of my troop, and then took to my heels, and in two days arrived safely at my mother's house. As soon as I entered, I tore my turban, and threw dust upon my head, in honour of my father's memory, and then sat down. My mother embraced me--we were alone.

"And your father? Is it for him that we are to mourn?"

"Yes," replied I, "he was a lion, and he is in Paradise."

My mother commenced a bitter lamentation; but of a sudden recollecting herself, she said, "but, Hudusi, it's no use tearing one's hair and good clothes for nothing. Are you sure that your father is dead?"

"Quite sure," replied I. "I saw him down."

"But he may only be wounded," replied my mother.

"Not so, my dearest mother, abandon all hope, for I saw his head off."

"Are you sure it was his body that you saw with the head off?"

"Quite sure, dear mother, for I was a witness to its being cut off."

"If that is the case," replied my mother, "he can never come back again, that's clear. Allah acbar--G.o.d is great. Then must we mourn." And my mother ran out into the street before the door, shrieking and screaming, tearing her hair and her garments, so as to draw the attention and the sympathy of all her neighbours, who asked her what was the matter. "Ah!

wahi, the head of my house is no more," cried she, "my heart is all bitterness--my soul is dried up--my liver is but as water; ah! wahi, ah!

wahi," and she continued to weep and tear her hair, refusing all consolation. The neighbours came to her a.s.sistance; they talked to her, they reasoned with her, restrained her violence, and soothed her into quietness. They all declared that it was a heavy loss, but that a true believer had gone to Paradise; and they all agreed that no woman's conduct could be more exemplary, that no woman was ever more fond of her husband. I said nothing, but I must acknowledge that, from her previous conversation with me, and the quant.i.ty of pilau which she devoured that evening for her supper, I _very much doubted the fact_.

I did not remain long at home; as, although it was my duty to acquaint my mother with my father's death, it was also my duty to appear to return to my corps. This I had resolved never more to do. I reflected that a life of quiet and ease was best suited to my disposition; and I resolved to join some religious sect. Before I quitted my mother's roof I gave her thirty sequins, which she was most thankful for, as she was in straitened circ.u.mstances. "Ah!" cried she, as she wrapt up the money carefully in a piece of rag, "if you could only have brought back your poor father's head, Hudusi!"--I might have told her that she had just received what I had sold it for--but I thought it just as well to say nothing about it; so I embraced her, and departed.

There was a sort of dervishes, who had taken up their quarters about seven miles from the village where my mother resided; and as they never remained long in one place, I hastened to join them. On my arrival, I requested to speak with their chief, and imagining that I was come with the request of prayers to be offered up on behalf of some wished-for object, I was admitted.

"Khoda shefa midehed--G.o.d gives relief," said the old man. "What wishest thou, my son? Khosh amedeed--you are welcome."

I stated my wish to enter into the sect, from a religious feeling; and requested that I might be permitted.

"Thou knowest not what thou askest, my son. Ours is a hard life, one of penitence, prostration, and prayer--our food is but of herbs and the water of the spring; our rest is broken, and we know not where to lay our heads. Depart, yaha bibi, my friend, depart in peace."

"But, father," replied I (for to tell your highness the truth, notwithstanding the old man's a.s.sertions, as to their austerities of life, I very much doubted the fact), "I am prepared for all this, if necessary, and even more. I have brought my little wealth to add to the store, and contribute to the welfare of your holy band; and I must not be denied." I perceived that the old man's eyes twinkled at the bare mention of gold, and I drew from my sash five and twenty sequins, which I had separated from my h.o.a.rd, with the intention of offering it. "See, holy father," continued I, "the offering which I would make."

"Barik Allah--praise be to G.o.d," exclaimed the dervish, "that he has sent us a true believer. Thy offering is accepted; but thou must not expect yet to enter into the austerities of our holy order. I have many disciples here, who wear the dress, and yet they are not as regular as good dervishes should be; but there is a time for all things, and when their appet.i.te to do wrong fails them, they will (Inshallah, please G.o.d), in all probability, become more holy and devout men. You are accepted." And the old man held out his hand for the money, which he clutched with eagerness, and hid away under his garment. "Ali," said he, to one of the dervishes who had stood at some distance during my audience, "this young man--what is your name--Hudusi--is admitted into our fraternity. Take him with thee, give him a dress of the order, and let him be initiated into our mysteries, first demanding from him the oath of secrecy. Murakhas, good Hudusi, you are dismissed."

I followed the dervish through a narrow pa.s.sage, until we arrived at a door, at which he knocked; it was opened, and I pa.s.sed through a court-yard, where I perceived several of the dervishes stretched on the ground in various postures, breathing heavily, and insensible.

"These," said my conductor, "are holy men who are favoured by Allah.

They are in a trance, and during that state, are visited by the Prophet, and are permitted to enter the eighth heaven, and see the glories prepared for true believers." I made no reply to his a.s.sertion, but as it was evident that they were all in a state of beastly intoxication, I _very much doubted the fact_.

I received my dress, took an oath of secrecy, and was introduced to my companions; whom I soon found to be a set of dissolute fellows, indulging in every vice, and laughing at every virtue; living in idleness, and by the contributions made to them by the people, who firmly believed in their pretended sanct.i.ty. The old man, with the white beard, who was their chief, was the only one who did not indulge in debauchery. He had outlived his appet.i.te for the vices of youth, and fallen into the vice of age--a love for money, which was insatiable. I must acknowledge that the company and mode of living were more to my satisfaction than the vigils, hard fare, and constant prayer, with which the old man had threatened me, when I proposed to enter the community, and I soon became an adept in dissimulation and hypocrisy, and a great favourite with my brethren.

I ought to have observed to your sublimity, that the sect of dervishes, of which I had become a member, were then designated by the name of _howling_ dervishes; all our religion consisted in howling like jackals or hyenas, with all our might, until we fell down in real or pretended convulsions. My howl was considered as the most appalling and unearthly that was ever heard; and, of course, my sanct.i.ty was increased in proportion. We were on our way to Scutari, where was our real place of residence, and only lodged here and there on our journey to fleece those who were piously disposed. I had not joined more than ten days when they continued their route, and after a week of very profitable travelling, pa.s.sed through Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and regained their place of domiciliation, and were received with great joy by the inhabitants, to whom the old chief and many others of our troop were well known.

Your sublime highness must be aware that the dervishes are not only consulted by, but often become the bankers of, the inhabitants, who entrust them with the care of their money. My old chief (whose name I should have mentioned before was Ulu-bibi), held large sums in trust for many of the people with whom he was acquainted; but his avarice inducing him to lend the money out on usury, it was very difficult to recover it when it was desired, although it was always religiously paid back. I had not been many months at Scutari, before I found myself in high favour, from my superior howling, and the duration of my convulsions.

But during this state, which by habit soon became spasmodic, continuing until the vital functions were almost extinct, the mind was as active as ever, and I lay immersed in a sea of doubt which was most painful. In my state of exhaustion I doubted every thing. I doubted if my convulsions were convulsions, or only feigned; I doubted if I was asleep or awake; I doubted whether I was in a trance, or in another world, or dead, or--

"Friend Hudusi," interrupted Mustapha, "we want the facts of your story, and not your doubts. Say I not well, your highness? What is all this but bosh--nothing?"

"It is well said," replied the pacha.

"Sometimes I thought that I had seized possession of a fact, but it slipped through my fingers like the tail of an eel."

"Let us have the facts, which did not escape thee, friend, and let the mists of doubt be cleared away before the glory of the pacha," replied Mustapha.

One day I was sitting in the warmth of the sun, by the tomb of a true believer, when an old woman accosted me.

"You are welcome," said I.

"Is your humour good?" said she.

"It is good," replied I.

She sat down by me; and, after a quarter of an hour, she continued: "G.o.d is great," said she.

"And Mahomet is his Prophet," replied I. "In the name of Allah, what do you wish?"

"Where is the holy man? I have money to give into his charge. May I not see him?"

"He is at his devotions but what is that? Am not I the same? Do I not watch when he prayeth--Inshallah--please G.o.d we are the same. Give me the bag."

"Here it is," said she, pulling out the money; "seven hundred sequins, my daughter's marriage portion; but there are bad men, who steal, and there are good men, whom we can trust. Say I not well?"

"It is well said," replied I, "and G.o.d is great."

"You will find the money right," said she. "Count it."

I counted it, and returned it into the goat's-skin bag. "It is all right. Leave me, woman, for I must go in."

The old woman left me, returning thanks to Allah that her money was safe; but from certain ideas running in my mind, I very _much doubted the fact_. I sat down full of doubt. I doubted if the old woman had come honestly by the money; and whether I should give it to the head dervish. I doubted whether I ought to retain it for myself, and whether I might not come to mischief. I also had my doubts--

"I have no doubt," interrupted Mustapha, "but that you kept it for yourself. Say--is it not so?"