Aphiz had thus been made to suffer the penalty usually inflicted upon certain crimes, and especially to the wives of such of the Turks as suspected them of inconstancy, a punishment that is even to this day common in Constantinople.  The Sultan had reasoned that if Komel knew Aphiz Adegah to be dead, she would after awhile recover from the shock, and gradually forgetting him, receive his own regard instead of that of the young mountaineer, as he would have her do voluntarily; for he felt, as much as he coveted her favor, that he could never claim her for a wife unless it was with her own consent and free will.  If he had not love her, he would have felt differently, and would have commanded that favor which now would lose its charms unless ’twas wooed and won.

But we shall see how mistaken the monarch was in his selfish calculations.

Reasoning upon the grounds that we have named, the Sultan had ordered Aphiz to be drowned in the Bosphorus, as we have seen, and the deed was performed by the regular executioners of government.  The Sultan was supreme, and his orders were obeyed without question; this being the case, Aphiz’s fate caused no remark even among the gossips.

The few days that had transpired since Komel had regained her speech and hearing, had of course taught her more in relation to her actual situation and the character of those about her than she had been able to gather by silent observation during her entire previous confinement in the harem of the palace.

She was aware that the Sultan was impetuous and self-willed, but she could hardly bring her mind to believe that he would actually put in practice such a piece of villany as should cost Aphiz his life.  Knowing as much as she did of his imperious and stern habits, she did not believe him capable of such cold-blooded baseness.  But no sooner had the officers, sent to execute his sentence against the innocent mountaineer, returned and announced the task as performed, than Komel was summoned to the presence of the the Sultan.

“I have sent for you, Komel,” said the monarch, while he regarded her intently as he spoke, “to tell you that Aphiz is dead.”

“Dead, excellency; do you say dead?”

“Yes.”

“You do but jest with me, excellency,” she said, trying in her tremor to smile.

“I rarely jest with any one and surely should not have sent for you were I in that mood.  He has gone to make food for the fishes at the bottom of the Bosphorus.”

“Has his life been taken by your orders, excellency?” she asked, with a pallid cheek and blanched lips.

“You have said,” answered the Sultan.

“Ah! excellency, I am but a weak girl and can ill abide a jest.  Aphiz can have done nothing to receive your displeasure, and surely you would not take his life without reason.”

“I had reason sufficient for me.”

“What was it, excellency?”

“The fellow loved you, Komel.”