The Argosy — page 254: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

238 Ten Minutes in a Life. to flatter the organ of destiny, in hopes of obtaining a favourable answer. “Thou art a wonderful youth,” said he: “thou knowest things of which, besides thyself, the mutes only possess the secret. I should wish to keep thee in my palace; I will make thee nicher than all the merchants of Galatea, if thou wilt tell me the year when I must die.” Mehallé approached the Sultan, and, taking his hand, appeared to study the lines of its palm with great attention. Having finished his examination, he went to the window and fixed his eyes for some moments upon the heavens. “‘ The fires of Beiram are lighting up the cupola of the grand mosque,” said he, slowly: “ night is at hand.” Mustapha anxiously awaited the answer of the astrologer. The latter continued in a mysterious manner: “ The declining day still eclipses the light of the constellations. I will answer you, signior, when the evening star appears.” The Sultan made a movement of impatience ; anger was depicted in his countenance, and the look which he darted on the mutes showed Mehallé that he had incurred his Highness’s displeasure. Cunosity, however, doubtless prevailed over every other feeling of the prince’s mind, for, turning to the young man, he said: ‘¢T am little accustomed to wait: I will do so, however, if thou canst amuse me until the propitious hour arrives.” ‘‘Would your Highness like to see some feats of juggling ?” asked Mehallé, drawing his sabre from its scabbard. ‘No, no!” exclaimed the Sultan, making the circles of slaves close in about him. “ Leave thy arms!” ‘Would you prefer a story, signior ! ” ‘Stories that lull an Arab to sleep under his tent? No, I must have something new. Of all known games there is but one I care for: I used to play it formerly, but now there is not a person in the palace who understands the chess-board.” The juggler smiled, and, taking an ebony box from a velvet bag, he presented it to the Sultan, whose wish he understood. The stern countenance of the Sultan relaxed at the sight, and the board was placed on the bowed back of a slave. Before commencing the game the Sultan said, “ We are about to play; so far, good; but shouldst thou lose, what should I gain ?” ‘Since your Highness does me the honour of playing against me, I will stake all that I possess—this scimetar and my liberty. But what if I win?” added the young man, folding his arms. ‘‘ Shouldst thou win, I would give thee a slave.” ‘Fora free man? The stake is not equal.” ‘‘IT would add to it my finest courser.” ““T need him not; my feet are swifter than those:of:an\Arab steed.” ECoOMmicloooks (C(O) mu a —_)