Having postulated the fact that I am the nephew of my uncle, I will now

return to the summarising of my situation. Well, my late uncle had come

to life again, but he wanted to keep all the advantages of his status as

a dead man, by obliging me to remain in possession of his property. I

had just said "good night" to him, while he was dreaming about his

camels. Nothing could be less complicated than that. If all that is not

in strict conformity with the character of Barbassou (Claude Anatole), I

know nothing about him. Nevertheless, it was only natural that the day

celebrated by his return should give birth to some other incidents of

importance.

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I had just left my uncle, and was walking towards the library to write

at once to the notary, when Francis informed me that a woman from the

Kasre had been waiting an hour to see me. One of the Greek servants came

sometimes to the château, either with messages or to await my orders. I

concluded at once that, not having seen me either during the day or in

the evening, my little animals had grown anxious and were sending to

inquire after me. I went to my room, where Francis said the woman was.

As I entered I saw her standing up, motionless, near the window, wrapped

in her great black feridjié; but I had hardly shut the door behind me

when, all at once, I heard a cry and sobs. The feridjié fell down, and I

recognised Kondjé-Gul, who threw herself on to my neck and seized me in

her arms with signs of the deepest despair.

"Good gracious!" I said, "is that you? You come here?"

Breathless and suffocated with tears, she could not answer me. I

guessed, rather than heard, these words: "I have run away! I have come to die with you!"

"But you are mad, dear, quite mad!" I exclaimed. "Why should you die?

What has happened then?"

"Oh, we know all!" she continued. "Barbassou-Pasha has returned. He is a

terrible man. He is going to kill you; us also; Mohammed also!"

And raving with fear she clung to me with all her strength, just as if

she were already threatened with death.

"But, my dear child," I said, "this is all madness--who in the world has

told you such nonsense?"

"Mohammed. He heard of the Pasha's return--he has hidden himself."

"But my uncle is a very kind man--he adores me, and does not even intend

to see you. Nothing will be changed for us by his return."




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