Hastily the tschorbadji returns to Cavalla, to his son who is still
reclining in the garden house, and relates that Cousrouf has
departed, and that he has sent his dear Osman the kindest greetings,
and the best wishes for his welfare.
Osman listens with an air of indifference and anxiety, and his
father regards him with dismay.
"Osman, what is the matter, what is it that grieves you?"
"Father, I must say it. Something fearful has taken place this
night!"
"What can have happened, Osman? Tranquillize yourself! You are
trembling! What has occurred?"
"Father; I do not know as yet; I have been listening for the shot
Mohammed was to fire. I have not yet heard it, and yet I feel that
some misfortune has happened to him, and that something dreadful has
taken place."
"But what can have happened to Mohammed?"
"I cannot speak of it now, and I am a poor, unhappy being whose feet
are too weak to bear him. I pray you go down to Praousta yourself.
Oh, go to the cliffs, father, go to the caves and openings in the
rock! Take the servants with you! I conjure you, father, do not
delay a moment!"
He could speak no further, and the tschorbadji saw, with dismay,
that his son's face was deathly pale.
"Be courageous, my Osman! It shall be as you say. I will call the
servants. See, I am already going!"
He hastily left the palace with his servants.
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