The tribunal was soon assembled, and the trembling Greek appeared in the midst of a solemn silence.  “Knowest thou this writing?” demanded the cadi.—­“It is mine.”—­“And this seal?”—­“It is that of my master, Ali Pacha.”—­“How does it come to be placed at the foot of these letters?”—­“I did this by order of my chief, abusing the confidence of my master, who occasionally allowed me to use it to sign his orders.”—­“It is enough:  thou canst withdraw.”

Uneasy as to the success of his intrigue, Ali was approaching the Hall of Justice.  As he entered the court, the Greek, who had just finished his examination, threw himself at his feet, assuring him that all had gone well.  “It is good,” said Ali; “thou shalt have thy reward.”  Turning round, he made a sign to his guards, who had their orders, and who instantly seized the unhappy Greek, and, drowning his voice with their shouts, hung him in the courtyard.  This execution finished, the pacha presented himself before the judges and inquired the result of their investigation.  He was answered by a burst of congratulation.  “Well,” said he, “the guilty author of this plot aimed at me is no more; I ordered him to be hung without waiting to hear your decision.  May all enemies of our glorious sultan perish even as he!”

A report of what had occurred was immediately drawn up, and, to assist matters still further, Ali sent the kapidgi-bachi a gift of fifty purses, which he accepted without difficulty, and also secured the favour of the Divan by considerable presents.  The sultan, yielding to the advice of his councillors, appeared to have again received him into favour.

But Ali knew well that this appearance of sunshine was entirely deceptive, and that Selim only professed to believe in his innocence until the day should arrive when the sultan could safely punish his treason.  He sought therefore to compass the latter’s downfall, and made common cause with his enemies, both internal and external.  A conspiracy, hatched between the discontented pachas and the English agents, shortly broke out, and one day, when Ali was presiding at the artillery practice of some French gunners sent to Albania by the Governor of Illyria, a Tartar brought him news of the deposition of Selim, who was succeeded by his nephew Mustapha.  Ali sprang up in delight, and publicly thanked Allah for this great good fortune.  He really did profit by this change of rulers, but he profited yet more by a second revolution which caused the deaths both of Selim, whom the promoters wished to reestablish on the throne, and of Mustapha, whose downfall they intended.  Mahmoud II, who was next invested with the scimitar of Othman, came to the throne in troublous times, after much bloodshed, in the midst of great political upheavals, and had neither the will nor the power to attack one of his most powerful vassals.  He received with evident satisfaction the million piastres which, at his installation, Ali hastened to send as a proof of his devotion, assured the pacha of his favour, and confirmed both him and his sons in their offices and dignities.  This fortunate change in his position brought Ali’s pride and audacity to a climax.  Free from pressing anxiety, he determined to carry out a project which had been the dream of his life.