The Jew appealed to me if the pipes of wine were not all of the same quality; and I confirmed his assertion.

“Taste it then,” replied the aga, “and then taste the first which you recommended to me.”

My master did so, and was evidently astonished.  “It certainly has more body,” replied he; “yet how that can be, I know not.  Taste it, Charis.”—­I held the glass to my lips, but nothing could induce me to taste the contents.  I contented myself with agreeing with my master (as I conscientiously could), “that it certainly had more body in it than the rest.”

The aga was so pleased with the wine, that he tasted two or three more pipes of the back tier, hoping to find others of the same quality, probably intending to have laid in a large stock; but finding no other of the same flavour, he ordered his slaves to roll the one containing the body of the slave into the litter, and carried it to his own house.

* * * * *

“Stop a moment, thou lying kafir!” said the pacha, “dost thou really mean to say that the wine was better than the rest?”

“Why should I tell a lie to your sublime highness—­am not I a worm that you may crush?  As I informed you, I did not taste it, your highness; but after the aga had departed, my master expressed his surprise at the excellence of the wine, which he affirmed to be superior to any thing that he had ever tasted—­and his sorrow that the aga had taken away the cask, which prevented him from ascertaining the cause.  But one day I was narrating the circumstance to a Frank in this country, who expressed no surprise at the wine being improved.  He had been a wine-merchant in England, and he informed me that it was the custom there to throw large pieces of raw beef into the wine to feed it; and that some particular wines were very much improved thereby.”

“Allah Kebur!  God is great!” cried the pacha—­“Then it must be so—­I have heard that the English are very fond of beef.  Now go on with thy story.”

* * * * *

Your highness cannot imagine the alarm which I felt when the cask was taken away by the aga’s slaves.  I gave myself up for a lost man, and resolved upon immediate flight from Smyrna.  I calculated the time that it would take for the aga to drink the wine, and made my arrangements accordingly.  I told my master that it was my intention to leave him, as I had an offer to go into business with a relation at Zante.  My master, who could not well do without me, entreated me to stay; but I was positive.  He then offered me a share of the business if I would remain, but I was not to be persuaded.  Every rap at the door, I thought that the aga and his janissaries were coming for me; and I hastened my departure, which was fixed for the following day,—­when in the evening my master came into the store with a paper in his hand.

“Charis,” said he, “perhaps you have supposed that I only offered to make you a partner in my business to induce you to remain, and then to deceive you.  To prove the contrary, here is a deed drawn up by which you are a partner, and entitled to one-third of the future profits.  Look at it, you will find that it has been executed in due form before the cadi.”