The herald shouted, 'The Descendant of the Prophet— blessed be his name—permits that you raise your eyes.' Everyone looked up, but remained kneeling. The 'three tail' Bashaw who had been kneeling between Sebastiani and Gardane, took each of them by an arm, raised them to their feet and, as if supporting them lest they faint at the tremendous honour _done them, led them forward through the Gate of Felicity to the step up to the throne.
Again all three of them knelt. Selim, without a trace of animation on his features, extended the first finger of his right hand, upon which blazed an emerald the size of a pigeon's egg, to Gardane. The General kissed it and said in Turkish:
'Most gracious Majesty of divine descent, I humbly crave to present to you a letter from my illustrious master, and your faithful ally, the Emperor of the French."
Unsmiling, Selim made no reply as Gardane proffered the gem-studded casket containing Napoleon's letter. Then, after a moment, with a gesture that almost conveyed contempt, Selim waved his heavily beringed hand in the direction of the Grand Vizier, and said, 'My Minister will give consideration to this matter, and inform me upon it.'
As Gardane handed the casket to the Grand Vizier, Selim uncrossed his legs, came to his feet and, raising his hand, said in a loud voice: 'May Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate —blessed be his name and that of his Prophet—have you all in His holy keeping.' Then, without another glance at anyone, his black-bearded head held high, he strode out through the curtains at the back of the pavilion, followed by his Grand Vizier and the Kizler Agar.
The troops came to their feet. Orders were shouted by their officers, and they presented arms as the French mission marched back through the Second Court, remounted their horses outside it, then at the First Gate took leave of the 'three tail' Bashaw. Limp and gasping from the heat, they recrossed the bridge of boats and, half an hour later, lay on their beds endeavouring to recover from the ordeal to which the audience with the Sultan had subjected them..
That night, at dinner in the Embassy, Sebastiani said to Gardane: 'General, I have remained on here only because I felt it my duty to accompany you on your presentation to the Sultan. I am positively haunted by the thought that my beloved Fanny's death was due to my having brought her to this city of dirt and disease. In my wretched state I can no longer be of any assistance to you here, and I have learned that a ship is leaving for the Piraeus tomorrow; so I am sailing in her. I have made the necessary arrangements for my staff to carry on all diplomatic duties. It remains only for me to wish you success in your mission.'
When they had condoled with him, he went on, 'You must not be discouraged by the coldness of the Sultan's reception. The aloofness he displayed is no more than tradition leads his people to expect from him. In private he is a very pleasant man, and he is highly intelligent. But you must not expect to receive any reply to the Emperor's letter for some days. The probability is that one day next week you will be sent for to discuss it with his Ministers. Even then, no decision will be given. You may have to wait another week or more before you are again summoned to receive a formal answer.'
During that afternoon Gardane had received a missive from Ibraham Pasha, the 'three tail' General who had conducted them into the presence that morning. It was an invitation for them to cross the Bosphorus with him next day and dine at his villa in the hills above Scutari.
As Roger had received no summons from Aimee, he was glad of this opportunity to spend a day in the company of his brother officers; for he feared that if he went off on his own too often Gardane might begin to wonder what he was up to.
Ibraham Pasha was a fat, jolly man. He spoke French fairly fluently and brought with him two other officers, both of whom had visited Paris in pre-Revolution days. The party crossed the Straits in a large barge and on the Asiatic side found grooms and horses waiting for them. They then rode through the town and, for about five miles, up a winding track that took thorn to the flat, grassy top of a mountain. From it there,, was a splendid view of the Turkish capital. The sun glinted on th,* domes and minarets of the many mosques in both Stamboul and Pera; and the blue waters below were dotted with the scores of vessels large and small sailing under a light wind along the three channels formed by the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn.
Having rested there for a while, they rode down to the Pasha's villa, which proved to be a small palace with a lovely garden. Like the majority of highly-placed or wealthy Turks, he observed the Koran's prohibition against alcohol only in public; so the excellent meal he had provided for them was made doubly agreeable by a plentiful supply of very palatable Greek wine. In the cool of the evening, they returned to Pera, having had a thoroughly enjoyable time.
The next day being the Mohammedan Sabbath, Roger did not go to the Palace, but on the Saturday afternoon he again presented himself. Aimee received him with obvious pleasure and he spent over two hours with her and the gazelle-like Fatima, who also asked him many questions about the countries in which he had travelled. With some amusement, he noticed that she could not keep her eyes off him, so he had obviously made a conquest. But charming as she was, and twenty years younger than Aimee, to his mind she was just a pretty girl and could not hold a candle to the radiant, golden beauty of her mistress.
As he was taking his leave, Aimee told him that next day the Sultan intended to visit Kizel, an island in the Sea of Marmora, just outside the entrance to the Bosphorus, and invited him to accompany them; so he was able to look forward to another day in the company of this extraordinary and fascinating woman.
Since the death of his wife the unhappy Sebastiani had refused all invitations and invited no-one to the Embassy; but on Gardane's arrival he had felt it his duty to arrange a# reception. So that night, in spite of the fact that the Ambassador had already left, the big salons of the Embassy were lit with hundreds of candles and an entertainment given for some two hundred guests. All the other foreign Ambassadors in Constantinople, with the senior members of their staffs, were present, and scores of important Turkish functionaries. Many of the latter were eager to return hospitality, so Gardane and his officers were assured of a pleasant time during the remainder of their stay in Constantinople. But Roger, wishing to keep himself free, politely declined such invitations as he was given, on the plea that he suffered from an intermittent fever and feared that for the next week or so a bout of it that he felt coming on would prevent him from keeping any engagements.
On the Sunday morning, again dressed as a Greek merchant, he accompanied the Imperial party to Kizel. The day followed the pattern of that when they had gone up the Bosphorus to Rumeli Hisar, except that, instead of the entertainment being held in a grim old casde, they enjoyed the May sunshine on a broad terrace in front of a small palace.
While they were on their way back, Selim told Roger that on the following day his Grand Vizier would receive the French mission, to discuss the Emperor Napoleon's letter; but Roger was concerned to see that the Sultan seemed more gloomy and ill at case than ever. And when they landed on the shore below the Seraglio, the reason for his depression was made plain. Again his temporary absence from the Palace had provided an opportunity for the Janissaries to hold meetings and discuss their pretended grievances. For the second time there came to Roger's ears that sinister sound of kettle-beating.
After another anxious night, he accompanied Gardane and two other senior officers of the mission across the Golden Horn. They were received as before by Ibraham Pasha, with ceremony, but the number of troops paraded was considerably less. The Pasha conducted them into the Second Court, but instead of proceeding to the Gate of Felicity, he turned half left, heading for a large building above which, squat and square, rose the only steeple of the Palace. It was, Roger knew, the Hall of the Dewan. Before entering it he cast a glance over his shoulder and saw that there were several new bloody severed heads on the pile of skulls.