Halil could only gaze at them open-mouthed.

But Janaki, still remaining on his knees, raised his hands to Heaven, and gave thanks to God for guiding his footsteps to this spot.

“Allah Akbar!  The Lord be praised!” said Patrona in his turn, and he drew nearer to them.  “So her whom you have so long sought after you find in my house, eh?  Allah preordained it.  And you may thank God for it, for you receive her back from me unharmed by me.  Take her away therefore!”

“You say not well, Halil,” cried the father, his face radiant with joy.  “So far from giving her back to me you shall keep her; yes, she shall remain yours for ever.  For if I were thrice to traverse the whole earth and go in a different direction each time, I certainly should not come across another man like you.  Tell me, therefore, what price you put upon her that I may buy her back, and give her to you to wife as a free woman?”

Halil did not consider very long what price he should ask, so far as he was concerned the business was settled already.  He cast but a single look on Guel-Bejaze’s smiling lips, and asked for a kiss from them—­that was the only price he demanded.

Janaki seized his daughter’s hand and placed it in the hand of Halil.

And now Halil held the warm, smooth little hand in his own big paw, he felt its reassuring pressure, he saw the girl smile, he saw her lips open to return his kiss, and still he did not believe his eyes—­still he shuddered at the reflection that when his lips should touch hers, the girl would suddenly die away, become pale and cold.  Only when his lips at last came into contact with her burning lips and her bosom throbbed against his bosom, and he felt his kiss returned and the warm pulsation of her heart, then only did he really believe in his own happiness, and held her for a long—­oh, so long!—­time to his own breast, and pressed his lips to her lips over and over again, and was happier—­happier by far—­than the dwellers in Paradise.

And after that they made the girl sit down between them, with her father on one side and her husband on the other, and they took her hands and caressed and fondled her to her heart’s content.  The poor maid was quite beside herself with delight.  She kept receiving kisses and caresses, first on the right hand and then on the left, and her face was pale no longer, but of a burning red like the transfigured rose whereon a drop of the blood of great Aphrodite fell.  And she promised her father and her husband that she would tell them such a lot of things—­things wondrous, unheard of, of which they had not and never could have the remotest idea.

And through the thin iron shutters which covered the window the Berber-Bashi curiously observed the touching scene!

They were still in the midst of their intoxication of delight when the frequently before-mentioned neighbour of Halil, worthy Musli, thrust his head inside the door, and witnessing the scene would discreetly have withdrawn his perplexed countenance.  But Halil, who had already caught sight of him, bawled him a vociferous welcome.