"When shall you be ready to go up to the palace?" asked Jack.
"All in good time," returned the host. "In the first place, it is not called the palace."
"What then?"
"The Konaki."
"Konaki!"
"That"s it. Now I"ll show you exactly how to conduct yourselves when you are presented at court," he said.
Three servants entered, carrying three pipes, each of the same size, and each having jewelled amber mouth-pieces.
The servants drew themselves up like automatons, each placing his right hand on his heart.
The next moment they were inhaling their first draught of some wonderful tobacco, the host keeping up the traditional Turkish custom of puffing half a minute or so before the guests.
When they had puffed away in silence for some little time, the servants returned.
One of them carried a crimson napkin, richly embroidered with gold, thrown over his left shoulder.
And others carried a coffee tray, upon which were cups of elegant filagree work.
Each of the guests were presented with a cup of coffee--not very nice according to our notions, being thick, unstrained and unsweetened.
Yet the Turks are considered the only people who really understand the art of making coffee.
This disposed of, the servants retired.
"Now," says the host, "that"s just what ye"ll have to do when you go up to the Konaki, to be, so to speak, presented at court. When you go visiting his excellency the pasha on any business, no matter how pressing it may be, you mustn"t speak of it until the pipes and the coffee have been got through. You have only to observe this little customary bit of etiquette, and all will go on merrily as a marriage bell."
"Have you ever seen the pasha yourself?" asked Jack.
"Often."
"What"s he like?"
"Every inch a gentleman."
This rather surprised them.
"Now let"s come off, and you shall see over the Konaki."
CHAPTER LXIX.
THE JOYS OF THE SERAGLIO--A GROUP OF PEEPING THOMASES--THE CIRCa.s.sIAN SLAVES--TINKER AND BOGEY ARE IN FOR IT--THE ALARM--ATTEMPTED RESCUE--AWAY WITH THEM--THE IRISHMAN TELLS A FEW WHITE ONES TO A PURPOSE.
The slipper merchant had selected a favourable moment for their visit to the Konaki.
The pasha--or to speak more correctly, the pasha"s deputy, for it was the deputy that had imposed upon the poor orphan--was absent from the house temporarily, and so they were able to walk about whither they listed, thanks to the backstairs influence of which their friend and guide had boasted.
The head of the pasha"s household was the person to whom they owed this unusual privilege.
There was not a great deal to see in the Konaki now that they were there, and their visit would probably have been cut very short had they not been attracted by sounds of distant music just as they were upon the point of leaving.
"What"s that?" said Jack.
"That"s from the seraglio," returned their conductor; "some Circa.s.sian girls that have just been sent as a present to the pasha are very clever dancers, it is said."
Jack p.r.i.c.ked up his ears at this.
"Come on," he said, moving forward briskly.
"To this seraglio?"
"Aye."
"Why, you rash boy," said the Irish Turk, with a frightened look, "do you know what you are talking about?"
"Well, yes, I think so," said Jack; "dancing Circa.s.sian girls and the seraglio was the topic of the conversation, unless I am wandering in my mind."
"Faith, ye must be mad," said the Irishman, gravely; "why, they"d think hanging too good for any man that even looked at the harem."
"So should I," returned Jack; "I"ve no wish to be hanged; it"s too good for me. Come on."
"Don"t be foolish; it"s death, if we"re caught."
"All right," said Jack, cheerfully; "it"s sure then that we mustn"t be caught, but I don"t mean to miss the chance all the same."
The Irishman resisted stoutly.
But Jack was more obstinate than he was, and so the Irishman was forced to yield a point.
"I know where there"s a gallery that overlooks the harem, and you can see all the fun of the fair without being observed."
"You seem to know the place very well," said Jack.
"Very."
"But of course you have never been to this identical gallery before?"
said Jack, innocently.
"Never--never."
His eagerness to impress this upon them told its own tale.