And this overbearing stranger, Cousrouf Pacha, is to blame for all
this!
He gave himself the appearance of graciously making the fishermen a
present of the money to pay the double tax. But he had deceived
them. Oh, had they but known that Masa had sold herself for this
money, they never would have accepted it! They therefore hate this
haughty stranger, and are glad that he is about to leave their coast
forever.
The ship still lies quietly at anchor, her streamers flutter gayly
in the air, her sides are hung with bright-colored carpets, and
garlands of flowers are entwined with her rigging. The ship presents
a brilliant spectacle, and it may well be that the pacha is to
embark this very evening. But no! Night sinks down, and all remains
dark on board the ship, which casts a huge shadow across the waves.
No, Cousrouf Pacha will certainly not embark this evening. The night
is dark, and all is still in Praousta and on the sea-shore.
And who would care to be up and abroad at this late hour! Whoever
has a hut and a bed, remains at home and does not go out into the
night. No, no one is abroad.
But is not that the sound of footsteps that now breaks in upon the
stillness of the night?
A dark shadow is gliding along among the cliffs on the shore. Who
can say that it is a human being! No star sheds its light on his
path--the moon is obscured behind dark clouds.
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