"O Mass," said the pacha, raising her from her knees, "Cousrouf
prays to you, be merciful to your father; yield, be mine and save
him."
Loud cries of grief again resounded without. Masa, shook with
terror. "I cannot allow my father to die, I cannot! I yield, I am
ready; give me the money, that I may bring it to these people."
"I will give it to you, and you shall rescue your father. And now
you are mine; not my slave, but my queen. Go up into my harem while
I take the money out to these people."
"No, not so," she cried, entreatingly. "Leave me my freedom for this
one day only; let me remain this one day with my father, and do not
let him have a suspicion of the price I have paid for his liberty."
"Then let it be so," said he, regarding her fixedly. "You swear, by
the memory of your mother, that you will voluntarily return to my
harem early to-morrow morning."
"I swear, by the memory of my mother, that I will return here early
to-morrow morning."
"You will come to the back-gate of my garden, where my servants will
await you to conduct you to me. And now I am going after the money.
Go into the adjoining room, to the tachorbadji."
He opened the door, and beckoned to the governor. "Await me here a
moment; I am going after the money with which to release the
prisoners."
He turned to her once more: "You understand, until early to-morrow
morning.
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