Mustapha gave the sign, and the mutes seized the unfortunate pacha.
"There is but one G.o.d, and Mahomet is his Prophet," said the pacha.
"Mustapha," continued he, turning round to him with a sardonic smile, "may your shadow never he less--but you have swallowed the coffee."
The mutes tightened the string. In a minute a cloak was thrown over the body of the pacha.
"The coffee," muttered Mustapha, as he heard the pacha"s last words. "I thought it had a taste. Now he"s sent to Jehanum for his treachery."
And all the visions of power and grandeur, which had filled the mind of the new pacha, were absorbed by fear and dismay.
The capidji bachi, having performed his duty, withdrew. "And now,"
exclaimed the renegade, "let me have my promised reward."
"Your reward--true. I had forgotten," replied Mustapha, as the pain occasioned by the working of the poison distorted his face. "Yes, I had forgotten," continued Mustapha, who, certain that his own end was approaching, was furious as a wild beast, with pain and baffled ambition. "Yes, I had forgotten. Guards, seize the renegade!"
"They must be quicker than you think for," replied Huckaback, darting from the guards and drawing his scimitar, while, with his fingers in his mouth, he gave a shrill whistle. In rushed a large body of the soldiers and sailors of the fleet, and the guards were disarmed. "Now, pacha of one hour old, what sayest thou."
"It is my destiny," replied Mustapha, rolling on the floor in agony.
"There is but one G.o.d, and Mahomet is his Prophet." And Mustapha expired.
"The old fool has saved me some trouble," observed the renegade. "Take away these carcases, and proclaim Ali, as the new pacha."
Thus perished the two barbers, and thus did Huckaback, under the name of Ali, reign in their stead. But his reign, and how long it lasted, is one of the many tales not handed down to posterity.
THE END.