"
The words of the tschorbadji, humbly and respectfully as they were
spoken, rankled in the sensitive soul of the proud pacha. He
started, and his brow darkened. He had partaken of the tschorbadji's
hospitality, and had never thanked him for it, and never returned
it. The tax that the men of Praousta were commanded to pay, was by
an order from Stamboul, destined for Cousrouf Pacha, and this was a
sign to the proud man that his sun was in the ascendant, that he
would soon be released from his exile, and therefore he was defiant
and haughty toward the tschorbadji.
At the angry words of the pacha, Osman, the usually mild and gentle
youth, arose from the divan, and placed himself at his father's
side, as if he wished to defend the tschorbadji from the proud and
mocking words of the stranger.
The father felt and understood what was passing in the youth's soul;
he laid his hand softly upon his shoulder. "Calm yourself, my son;
may the rights of a guest be as sacred to you as to me--his
excellency has been our esteemed guest for three years, remember
this, and forget that he was a little hard just now. Allah be with
him! Allah make all our hearts tender and gentle!"
"You must remember, pacha, that here, in our small portion of the
great world, we cannot make so great and magnificent a display as
you can make in your brilliant career in the great city of Stamboul.
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