The “Bassà of Tunis”--yes, indeed, not the least of the results of his trip to Adrianople that Sir John congratulated himself upon was connected with that gentleman. The Vizir was so far from countenancing the Pasha’s pretensions, that he publicly thanked Finch for the service he had done, and sent the Pasha away to a Governorship in the uttermost confines of Arabia. This curious affair was not really over. Resentment had struck root so deeply in the bosom of the Pasha of Tunis that afterwards it shot up and flowered afresh, and grew into a noxious umbrage which was to darken Sir John’s latter years. But of this Sir John knew nothing at the time: he only knew that he had triumphed.
Thus ended the most adventurous and most important transaction Sir John Finch had ever been engaged in. But his troubles had not yet ended. Before he could get away, he had to take out Commands to give effect to the new Articles, also to pay farewell visits to the Kehayah and the Rais Effendi--to thank those worthies for their help. In the houses of both the Plague was more rife than at the Vizir’s; but he “must run the Gantlett.” Fortunately, “both did me the Civility to appoint me a meeting in _luogo terzo_: the Kehaiah at an Appartment of the Visir’s and the Rais Affendi at his Garden House. A condiscension seldome practisd’ by any Turkes, especially of so great a Figure.”
These “visits of congé” took place on September 16th. “The Kehaiah was very melancholy, having that very morning buryed four out of his house, two of which were his near kinswomen.” The Rais Effendi felicitated Sir John on his release, saying that there never had “bin in the memory of man known such a Plague in Adrianople.” At one of these calls, two men with running sores stood for a full quarter of an hour within a yard of the Ambassador: even the _luogo terzo_ offered no security.[168]
The final departure for Constantinople was a hustling and thoroughly undignified affair: all other considerations yielding to that of self-preservation. Not only the ceremonies but the very decencies of life were sacrificed, without scruple or shame, on the altar of the primitive goddess who knows no law. At her behest all those acquired habits fell away from our punctilious diplomat like so many borrowed plumes.