Halil reflected.  The incidents which had happened in the palace by the Sweet Waters all passed through his mind.  He bethought him how Damad Ibrahim had forced his embraces upon Guel-Bejaze, and compelled her to resort to the stratagem of the death-swoon, and he gave no heed to what Sulali said about sparing Ibrahim’s grey beard.

“The Grand Vizier must die,” he answered.  “As for Abdullah, he may remain alive, but he must be banished.”  After all, Abdullah had done no harm to Guel-Bejaze.

Sulali returned to the Seraglio.

“Halil permits the Chief Mufti to live, but he demands death for the three others,” said he.

At these words Achmed sprang from the divan like a lion brought to bay and drew his sword.

“Come hither, then, valiant rebels, as ye are!” cried he.  “If you want the heads of my servants, come for them, and take them from me.  No, not a drop of their blood will I give you, and if you dare to come for them ye shall see that the sword of Mohammed has still an edge upon it.  Unfurl the banner of the Prophet in front of the gate of the Seraglio.  Let all true believers cleave to me.  Send criers into all the streets to announce that the Seraglio is in danger, and let all to whom the countenance of Allah is dear hasten to the defence of the Banner!  I will collect the bostanjis and defend the gates of the Seraglio.”

The two grey beards kissed the Sultan’s hand.  If this manly burst of emotion had only come a little earlier, the page of history would have borne a very different record of Sultan Achmed.

The Banner of Danger was immediately hung out in the central gate of the Seraglio, and there it remained till early the next evening.

At dawn the criers returned and reported that they had not been able to get beyond the mosque of St. Sophia, and that the people had responded to their crying with showers of stones.

The Green Banner waved all by itself in front of the Seraglio.  Nobody assembled beneath it, even the wind disdained to flutter it, languidly it drooped upon its staff.

The unfurling of the Green Banner on the gate of the Seraglio is a rare event in history.  As a rule it only happens in the time of greatest danger, for it signifies that the time has come for every true Mussulman to quit hearth and home, his shop and his plough, snatch up his weapons, and hasten to the assistance of Allah and his Anointed, and accursed would be reckoned every male Osmanli who should hesitate at such a time to lay down his life and his estate at the feet of the Padishah.

Knowing this to be so, imagine then the extremity of terror into which the dwellers in the Seraglio were plunged when they saw that not a single soul rallied beneath the exposed banner.  The criers promised a gratuity of thirty piastres to every soldier who hastened to range himself beneath the banner, and two piastres a day over and above the usual pay.  And some five or six fellows followed them, but as many as came in on one side went away again on the other, and in the afternoon not a single soul remained beneath the banner.