Hastily he walks to the beach, and, with the
Turks, enters the boat and steers for the ship.
The governor has now reached the ship and climbed to the deck, but
the grand gentleman does not stir from his cushions, and only greets
him with a gracious nod. The people on the beach observe this with
astonishment, and ask each other: "Who can this be? Tschorbadji
Hassan is the greatest man on our peninsula, and every head bows
down before him. And this gentleman dares to salute him with a mere
nod. Truly he must be a very great man!"
Mohammed regards the people who are speaking contemptuously, and
murmurs to himself: "I shall be a greater man some day. He is no
prince, else his ship would show the admiral's flag, and the
governor would fall on his face before him. The scha-er told me that
such is the custom in the presence of princes. But the people shall
one day prostrate them selves on their faces before me!"
At last the grand gentleman arises slowly from his cushions, and
lays his arm on the shoulder of the governor, who walks at his side,
his head bowed down, and seemingly delighted at being permitted to
bear this burden on his shoulder.
They walk to the stairway; the governor busies himself in helping
the stranger to descend, jumps into the boat, and extends his band
to assist him to enter. He tranquilly receives these attentions; the
slaves follow, and lay gold-embroidered cushions on the bottom of
the boat, and the grand gentleman reclines on them in an easy
attitude.
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