"
"Very true, Mustapha," rejoined the pacha; "besides, we might lose the
story. Kafir, you have our promise, and may proceed."
The Greek slave (for such he was) then rose up, and narrated his story
in the following words.
STORY OF THE GREEK SLAVE.
I am a Greek by birth; my parents were poor people residing at Smyrna. I
was an only son, and brought up to my father's profession,--that of a
cooper. When I was twenty years old, I had buried both my parents, and
was left to shift for myself. I had been for some time in the employ of
a Jewish wine-merchant, and I continued there for three years after my
father's death, when a circumstance occurred which led to my subsequent
prosperity and present degradation.
At the time that I am speaking of, I had, by strict diligence and
sobriety, so pleased my employer, that I had risen to be his foreman;
and although I still superintended and occasionally worked at the
cooperage, I was intrusted with the drawing off and fining of the wines,
to prepare them for market. There was an Ethiopian slave, who worked
under my orders, a powerful, broad-shouldered, and most malignant
wretch, whom my master found it almost impossible to manage; the
bastinado, or any other punishment, he derided, and after the
application only became more sullen and discontented than before. The
fire that flashed from his eyes, upon any fault being found by me on
account of his negligence, was so threatening, that I every day expected
I should be murdered.
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