--
Take hold now, ye dogs, and bear your master into the room!"
He walked beside the couch while the slaves bore it into the room,
and deposited it, at his command, beside his own cushions.
"Now come, too, tschorbadji, and seat yourself at our side, and let
us smoke the chibouque together for the last time."
"The pipe of peace, Cousrouf Pacha, as the savages do when seated
together for the last time in their wigwam," said Osman, smiling.
The pacha cast a searching glance at him.
"Tschorbadji, you have a very learned son. I know nothing of such
things, have never heard of them. Who smoke the pipe of peace?"
"The savages in America, when they become reconciled to their
enemies, and receive them in their wigwam."
"But that has no application to us. In the first place, we are not
savages, but very respectable and considerable people; and secondly,
I trust I am not receiving enemies here, with whom it is necessary
to smoke the pipe of peace."
"Certainly not, but very faithful friends and devoted servants, who
have come to bid you a last farewell."
"You are right, tschorbadji, a last farewell, I trust," said the
pacha, laughing. "For (and forgive me for saying so) it is horribly
dull here in your city of Cavalla. Your revolutionary fishermen and
the rest of the rabble here would make my life intolerable. I admire
you, tschorbadji, for having the courage to bear it--and
particularly you, my dear Osman.
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