"We are lost!" whispered the bloodless Gül-Bejáze. The intoxication of joy and wine had suddenly left her and she was sober once more.
Janaki implored, Musli cursed and swore, but Halil spake never a word. He held his wife tightly embraced in his arms and he thought within himself, I would rather allow my hand to be chopped off than let her go.
Janaki promised money and loads of treasure to Ali Kermesh if only he would hold his tongue, say nothing of what had happened, and let the girl remain with her husband.
"No," said he, "I will take away the girl, and your treasures also shall be mine. Ye are the children of Death; yea, all of you who are now drawing the breath of life in this house, for to have heard the secret that this slave-girl has blabbed out is sufficient to kill anyone thrice over. I command you, Irene, to take up your veil and follow me, and you others must remain here till the Debedzik with the cord comes to fetch you also."
With these words he cast Janaki from him, approached the damsel and seized her hand. Halil never once relaxed his embrace.
"Blessed Mary! Blessed Mary!" moaned the girl.
"Your guardian saints are powerless to help you now, for your husband's lips have touched you; come with me!"
Then only did Halil speak. His voice was so deep, gruff, and stern, that those who heard it scarce recognised it for his:
"Leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!" cried he.
"Silence thou dog! in another hour thou wilt be hanging up before thine own gate."
"Once more I ask you--leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!"
Instead of answering, the Berber-Bashi would, with one hand, have torn the wife from her husband's bosom while he clutched hold of Halil with the other, whereupon Halil brought down his fist so heavily on the skull of the Berber-Bashi that he instantly collapsed without uttering a single word.
"What have you done?" cried Janaki in terror. "You have killed the chief barber of the Sultan!"
"Yes, I rather fancy I have," replied Halil coolly.
Musli rushed towards the prostrate form of Ali Kermesh, felt him all over very carefully, and then turned towards the hearth where the others were sitting.
"Dead he is, there is no doubt about it. He's as dead as a door-nail. Well, Halil, that was a fine blow of yours I must say. By the Prophet! one does not see a blow like that every day. With your bare hand too! To kill a man with nothing but your empty fist! If a cannon-ball had knocked him over he could not be deader than he is."