“I have now,” said Mahmoud, “experienced the truth of the common saying, that what is deeply felt is well expressed, though it is true that sometimes excess of feeling paralyses the tongue.  Be that as it may, friend Ricardo,—­whether your woes inspire your language, or your language exalts your woes,—­you shall always find in me a true friend, to aid or to counsel, though my youth, and the folly I committed in assuming this garb, cry aloud that I am little to be relied on in this capacity.  I will try, however, to prove that such a conclusion is unfounded; and though you do not desire either counsel or help, I will not the more desist from doing what your case requires, just as people give a sick man not what he asks for, but what is good for him.  There is no one who has more power and influence in this city than my master, the Cadi; not even your own master, who comes to it as viceroy, will have so much.  This being the case, I may say that I am the most powerful person here, since I can do what I please with my master.  I mention this because it may be that I shall so contrive with him that you shall become his property, and being constantly with me, time will tell us what we had best do, both for your consolation, if you will or can be consoled, and to enable me to exchange the life I lead here for a better one.”

“I thank you, Mahmoud, for the friendship you offer me,” replied Ricardo, “though I well know that, do what you may, it will avail nothing.  But let us quit this subject, and go to the tents, for, as I perceive, great numbers of people are coming forth from the city; no doubt it is the old viceroy who is quitting it to give place to my master.”

“It is so,” said Mahmoud.  “Come then, Ricardo, and you will see the ceremony of the reception.”

“Come on,” said Ricardo; “perhaps I shall have need of you, if the superintendent of my master’s slaves have missed me, for he is a Corsican renegade of no very tender heart.”

Here the conversation ended, and the two friends reached the tents, just as the new pasha was coming out to receive his predecessor, Ali Pasha.  The latter came attended by all the janissaries who have formed the garrison of Nicosia ever since the Turks have had possession of it, in number about five hundred.  They marched in two divisions, the one armed with guns, the other with drawn scimetars.  Arrived at the tent of Hassan, the new Pasha, they all surrounded it.  Ali made a low obeisance to Hassan, who returned the salutation, but did not bow so low.  Ali then entered Hassan’s tent, and the Turks placed the new Pasha on a powerful steed, richly caparisoned, and led him round the tents, and up and down the plain; vociferating in their own language, “Long live Sultan Soliman, and Hassan Pasha, his representative!” which cry they frequently repeated, and each time louder and louder.  This part of the ceremony being ended, they brought Hassan back to Ali’s tent, where the two pashas and the cadi remained alone