“Ay—­knock—­knock—­my door is like my mouth; I open it when I choose, and I keep it shut when I choose, as once was well known.  The time has been—­the time has been.”

“We have been a long time standing here, and I am tired of waiting; so, Mustapha, I think the time is come to kick the door open.  Let it be done.”

Whereupon Mustapha put his foot to the door, but it resisted his efforts.  “Let me assist,” said the pacha, and retreated a few paces; he and Mustapha backed against the door with all their force.  It flew open, and they rolled together on the floor of the hovel.  The old woman screamed, and then, jumping on the body of the pacha, caught him by the throat, crying, “Thieves; murder!” Mustapha hastened to the assistance of his master, as did the two black slaves, when they heard the cries, and with some difficulty the talons of the old Jezebel were disengaged from the throat of the pacha, who, in his wrath, would have immediately sacrificed her.  “Lahnet be Shitan!  Curses on the devil!” exclaimed the pacha; “but this is pretty treatment for a pacha.”

“Knowest thou, vile wretch, that thou hast taken by the throat, and nearly strangled, the Lord of Life—­the pacha himself,” said Mustapha.

“Well,” replied the old woman, coolly, “the time has been—­the time has been.”

“What meanest thou, cursed hag, that ’the time has been’?”

“I mean that the time has been, when I have had more than one pacha strangled.  Yes,” continued she squatting down on the floor, and muttering, “the time has been.”

The pacha’s rage was now a little appeased.  “Mustapha,” said the pacha, “let this old woman be carefully guarded; to-morrow afternoon we will understand the meaning of those strange words, ‘the time has been.’  Depend upon it, thereby hangs a good story; we will have that first—­and then,” whispered the pacha, “her head off afterwards.”

The old woman, hearing the order to take her into custody, again repeated.  “Ah, very well—­the time has been.”  The slaves laid hold of her; but she defended herself so vigorously with her teeth and nails, that they were under the necessity of gagging her, and tying her hand and foot.  They then hoisted her on their shoulders, and marched off with her to the palace, followed by Mustapha and the pacha, the latter quite delighted with his adventure.  When the divan of the ensuing day had closed, the old woman was ordered to be brought into the presence of the pacha; and as she refused to walk, she was brought on the shoulders of four of the guards, and laid on the floor of the council-chamber.  “How dare you rebel against the sublime commands?” inquired Mustapha with severity.

“How dare I rebel!” cried the old woman with a shrill voice.  “Why, what right has the pacha to drag me from my poor hovel; and what can he want with an old woman like me?  It’s not for his harem, I presume.”

At this remark the pacha and Mustapha could not help laughing; having recovered his gravity, Mustapha observed, “One would imagine, old carrion that thou art, that the idea of such a punishment as the bastinado had never entered your mind.”