At the age of twenty-two my uncle turned Turk, from political

conviction. This happened under the Bourbons. The character of his

services in Turkey during the contests between Mehemet Ali and the

Sultan was never very clear, and I fancy he was rather muddled about

them himself, for he served both these princes by turns with equal

courage and equal devotion. As it happened, he was on the side of

Ibrahim at the time that the latter defeated the Turks at the battle of

Konieh; but being carried away in that desperate charge which he himself

led, and which decided the victory, my unfortunate uncle suffered the

disgrace of falling wounded into the hands of the vanquished party.

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Being a prisoner to Kurchid-Pasha, and his wound having soon healed, he

was expecting to be impaled, when, to his great joy, his punishment was

commuted to that of the galleys. There he remained three years without

succeeding in effecting his escape, when one fine day he found his

services in request just at the right time by the Sultan, who appointed

him Pasha, giving him a command in the Syrian wars. What circumstance

was it that cut short his political career? How was it that he obtained

from the Pope the title of Count of the Holy Empire? Nobody knows.

All that is certain is that Barbassou-Pasha, tired of his honours and

having returned two years since to settle down in Provence, started off

one morning for Africa, on a ship that he had bought at Toulon.

Henceforth he devoted himself to the spice trade.

It was after one of these voyages that he published his celebrated

ontological monograph upon the negro races, a work which created some

stir and gained for him a most flattering report from the Academy.

These leading events of his Odyssey being known, the more private facts

and deeds of the life of Barbassou-Pasha are lost in obscurity. As for

his physical characteristics, you will remember the great Marseillais

six-foot high, with sinewy frame and muscles of steel; your mind's eye

can picture still the formidable, bearded face, the savage and terrible

eye, the rough voice, the complete type in short of "the pirate at his

ease," as you used to say, when laughing sometimes at his quiet humour.

After all, an easy-going soul, and the best of uncles!

As for my own recollections, so far back as they go, the following is

all I have ever known of him. Being continually at sea, he had placed me

at school quite young. One year, while at his château at Férouzat, he

sent for me during the holidays. I was six years old, and saw him for

the first time. He held me up in his arms to examine my face and

features, then turning me gently round in the air, he felt my sides,

after which--satisfied, no doubt, as to my build--he put me down again

with great care, as if afraid of breaking me.




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