The Argosy — page 255: what you’re looking at

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

Ten Minutes in a Life. 239 ‘“¢ What wouldst thou, then?” ‘‘T have a fancy, sublime signior. Until this day I have been nothing but a wanderer, wearing the dress of a juggler. Were I to complain of this I should be ungrateful, for this simple garb has ever seen me free and happy. I, however, renounce it. I-become your slave; my mirth shall be for you alone; I will sing for you Indian songs ; and, above all, I will divine for none but you. In return I will ask but one thing ; it is, if I win, to allow me to wear your royal mantle for ten minutes, to sit upon the divan surrounded by slaves, and to place upon my head that dreaded turban whose fame has reached to the ends of the earth.” The proposition of Mehalié was received with a burst of laughter from the Sultan. ‘‘ Thou wouldst .sit upon the seat of the Caliphs! Dost thou not fear the weight of this turban upon thy silly head? A fine figure thou wouldst make under the pelisse of Ottoman! I should like to see thee giving audience to the viziers and pashas !” It is in your Highness’s power to afford yourself this plea- sure.” ° ‘‘ Well,” exclaimed Mustapha, “I will agree to the stake. <A juggler upon the throne! Such a sight the East never saw.” The game was short. Though he played with skill, the Sultan was checkmated. It was fairly done, and he pleasantly prepared to fulfil his engagement. Mustapha loosened his girdle, took off his pelisse, and laid down his turban, while a slave assisted to invest Mehallé in the royal gar- ments. These preparations completed, the Sultan, dressed only in loose silken trousers and a richly-embroidered vest, approached a clock, and, placing his finger on the dial-plate, ‘‘When the hand shall mark the hour of eight,” said he, ‘“‘I shall have paid my wager, and then I will appoint you my astrologer.” The juggler ascended the divan, and, having placed his scimetar at his side, he ordered the door to be thrown open that the waiting courtiers might be admitted. The apartment, which the dim light of evening rendered obscure, was immediately filled with muftis and ulemas, agas of janizaries and pashas, great officers of the Porte and foreign ambassadors. He next ordered a new relay of guards to relieve those on duty, and then the withdrawal of all the personal attendants. It was the work of a moment. As the fresh soldiers were marching in, a sign from Mehallé caused the flambeaux to be lighted, when, in the dazzling flood of illumination, he stood erect, received the homage of the assembly, and, fixing more firmly on his head the scarlet-feathered turban, the emblem of power, he cried, in a commanding tone, “ Let the standard of the Prophet be raised on St. Sophia! The people will salute it from afar at the fires of Betram !” At these words an officer stepped forth to execute: the orders, but ECOMicoOOKS.CoOm