Chapter 32 Chapter fifteen

The living room door opened immediately.Lord Kairabang, Ahme, Amasya, Najib, and Bruno appeared at the door. Kerabong immediately saved Van Mettain from danger. "Ah, ma'am!" said Ahme, "you can't just strangle people like that...just because of a misunderstanding!" "Damn it!" Bruno said to himself, "it's just in time!" "Poor Mr. Van Mettain!" said Amasia, feeling sincere sympathy for her traveling companion. "This is obviously not the right woman for him!" Najib said, shaking his head. By this time Van Mettain was gradually coming to his senses.

"Did you have a hard time just now?" Kerabong asked. "Very bad, but I've made it through!" replied Van Mettaine. At this moment the venerable Sarabul turned to Lord Kairabang, and directly regarded him as his opponent: "You instigated this..." "A hoax," Kerabong replied, in a tone of geniality. "That's the right word...a hoax!" "I want revenge! . . . There are judges in Constantinople! . . . " "Beautiful Sarapur," replied Lord Kerabong, "you can only accuse yourself! For a so-called case, you will arrest us and prevent us from traveling! Alas! By Allah! We can only get out as best we can! We used a so-called engagement to get away with it, so it deserves a dissolution, of course!"

Hearing this answer, Sarabul collapsed on the sofa again and went into a fit like a psychosis, which is a trick that all women, even Kurdish women, know. Najib and Amasya rushed to tend to her. "I'm going! . . . I'm going! . . . " she cried at the height of her fit. "Bon voyage!" Bruno replied. However, Nisib appeared at the door at this time. "What's the matter?" Kerabong asked. "There's a telegram just brought in from the Galata firm." "Who is it for?" Kerabong asked again. "For Mr. Van Mettaine, master. It just arrived today."

"Give it to me!" said Van Mettaine. He took the telegram, opened it and read the signature. "My agent in Rotterdam," he said. Then he read the first few words: "Mrs. Van Mettaine . . . died five weeks ago . . . " Van Mettain held the telegram in his hand in frustration. Why hide it?Tears welled up in his eyes. But at the last words, Sarabul suddenly jumped up like a devil. "Five weeks!" she exclaimed ecstatically. "The telegram says five weeks!" "Daredevil!" Ahme whispered, "Why would he say the date at this time!"

"So," went on the triumphant Sarabul, "ten days ago, when I honored you by being engaged to you..." "Let Muhammad strangle her!" Kerabong said aloud, perhaps a little louder than he wanted to. "You are a widower, my lord!" Sarabul said in a victorious tone. "Definitely a widower, my lord brother-in-law!" Yanar went on. "Therefore our engagement is valid!" The logic of the argument was impeccable, and this time it was Van Mettain who collapsed on the sofa. "Poor man," said Ahme to his uncle, "he has to jump into the Bosphorus!"

"Okay!" Kerabong replied, "she'll jump in with him and pick him up...for revenge!" Exalted Sarabul took Van Mettertain's arm, and he was hers now. "Stand up!" she said. "Yes, my dear Sarabol," replied Van Metertain, bowing his head. "I'm ready!" "Come with us!" Yanar continued. "Yes, dear brother-in-law!" replied Van Mittern, dejected and completely overwhelmed, "I'm ready . . . to go anywhere with you!" "To Constantinople, let's take the first steamer!" replied Sarabul.

"By boat?..." "To Kurdistan!" Yanel replied. "Kur? . . . Come with me, Bruno! . . . The food is good there! . . . This will be a real compensation for you!" Bruno could only nod in agreement.So the venerable Saraboul and Lord Jarnar took the unfortunate Dutchman away, and his friends were helpless, and only his faithful servant followed him, saying to himself: "I've told him over and over again that he's going to be in trouble!" Van Mettain's companions, including Kerabon himself, were speechless in dismay at the unexpected blow. "That's how he got married!" said Amasya.

"Out of loyalty to us!" Ahme replied. "This time it's serious!" Najib continued. "There's only one way he can go in Kurdistan," Kerabong said with deadly seriousness. "What way, uncle?" "Marry ten or so women like her, and make them jealous of each other!" At this moment, the door opened, and Selim walked in with a sad face, out of breath, as if he was out of breath from running. "Father, what's the matter with you?" Amasia asked. "What happened?" Ahme yelled. "Hey, friends, the wedding of Amasia and Ahme cannot take place..."

"what did you say?" "At least not in Skutali!" Selim went on. "In Skultari?" "Only in Constantinople!" "In Constantinople? . . . " Kerabong replied, pricking up his ears. "Why is that?" "Because the judges in Skuthari refused to register the marriage contract at all!" "He refused?..." Ahme asked. "Yes! . . . the pretext is Kerabon's residence, so Ahme's residence is not in Skuta at all, but in Constantinople!" "In Constantinople?" Kerabong repeated, brows furrowing. "But," went on Selim, "today is the last day for the wedding of my daughter, in order for her to receive the property bequeathed to her! Therefore without delay, we shall go at once to Constantinople, where the engagement is accepted. Go to the judge!"

"Let's go!" Ahme said, walking towards the door. "Let's go!" continued Amasya, who followed him. "Lord Kairabang, don't you want to accompany us?" the girl asked. Lord Kerabong was silent and motionless. "What's the matter with you, Uncle?" said Ahme, coming back. "Aren't you going?" Selim asked. "Do you want me to use force?" Amasia said and gently took Kairabang's arm. "I have someone prepare a small boat, just cross the Bosphorus Strait!" "Bosphorus?" Kerabong called. Then he said coldly:

"Wait a minute! Selim, do people who cross the Bosphorus have to pay 10 balas each?" "Yes, of course, my friend Kerabon," Selim said, "but you have gone from Constantinople to Skutali without paying the tax, mocking the Ottoman authorities, I don't think you will Will refuse again..." "I refuse!" Kerabong replied emphatically. "Then they won't let you pass!" "That's good!... I won't go there!" "But our wedding..." Ahme exclaimed, "what about the wedding that should be held today?" "You can get married without me!" "Impossible! You are my guardian, Uncle Kerabong, and you know very well that you must be present!" "Okay, Ahme, after I build a residence in Skuta...you can get married in Sguta!" The obstinate man answered in such a harsh tone that all who spoke to him felt hopeless. "My friend Kerabon," Selim continued, "today is the last day...you must understand that my daughter will lose all her property if..." Kerabong shook his head to say no, and made a more negative gesture. "Uncle," Ahme called, "please..." "If someone is going to force me to pay 10 balas," Kerabong replied, "I will never, never cross the Bosphorus! By Allah! I'd rather go around the Black Sea again To Constantinople!" To tell the truth, this stubborn person has made a mistake again! "Uncle," Ahme went on, "you're not doing it well! . . . To be so stubborn in these circumstances, let me say to you, that's not what a man like you should do! . . . Misfortune to those closest to you! . . . that's not good!" "Ahme, watch what you say!" Kerabong replied in a low and hoarse voice, signaling that his anger was about to explode. "No, uncle, no! . . . I have so much on my mind and nothing can stop me from saying it! . . . You are . . . you are a bad man!" "My dear Ahmey," said Amasya at this moment, "be calm! Don't say that about your uncle! . " "Tell me to give you up!" Ahme said, holding the girl tightly to her chest. "Never!...No!...Never!...Come!...Let us leave the city and never come back, and we can still pay ten balas to Constantinople! " As Ahmei spoke, she couldn't help but dragged the girl towards the door. "Kerabon?..." Selim said, trying one last time to change his friend's mind. "Leave me alone, Selim, leave me alone!" "Ah! Let's go, father!" Amasia said, looking at Kerabong, holding back tears with difficulty. She was about to walk towards the door of the living room with Ahme, but he stopped. "You are obliged to attend our wedding, uncle," he said. "I ask you for the last time, will you refuse to accompany us to the judge in Constantinople?" "I refuse," said Kerabong, stomping his foot on the floor, "to never pay the tax!" "Kerabon!" Selim said. "Don't pay! In the name of Allah! Don't pay!" "Well, farewell, my uncle!" said Ahme. "Your obstinacy has cost us a fortune! . . . You're going to bankrupt your niece and daughter-in-law! . . . Well! . . . I regret not the property! . . . but that you will delay our happiness! . . . Never again!" Then the young man took Amasia, followed by Selim, Najib, and Nisib, out of the living room and the villa, and soon boarded a small boat for Constantinople. Lord Kerabong walked up and down alone, very irritable. "No! In the name of Allah! No! In the name of Muhammad!" he said to himself. "I can't pay!... I walked around the Black Sea to avoid paying this tax, and when I came back, I had 10 balas taken out of my pocket!... No... I would rather never go to Constantine Dinburg!...I'm going to buy the house in Galata!... out of business!...I'm going to give Ahme all my fortune to make up for Amasia's loss!...he'll be rich ... I shall be poor ... No! I will never yield! . . . I will never yield!" As he said this, the inner struggle intensified. "Surrender! . . . Pay! . . . " he repeated. "I... Kerabong!...go to meet the one who doesn't believe me...sees me leaving...waiting for me to come back...will charge me this nasty tax in front of everyone The police chief who mocked me! . . . Absolutely not! . . . " Lord Kerabong was clearly wrestling with his conscience, as he clearly felt that such stubbornness was actually absurd, and that its consequences would fall on someone else, not him. "Yes! . . . " he continued, "but would Ahme accept it? . . . He was sad when he went away, and hated my obstinacy! . . . I saw it! . . . He was very proud! . . . He will deny me everything now!...Look!...I am a good man!...Shall I hinder the happiness of the children by a stupid decision?...Ah! Let Muhammad strangle the whole Turkish government, Stretch all Turks under the new system!" Lord Kerabong paced restlessly in the living room, kicking chairs and cushions away.He wanted to smash something weak to vent his anger, and two large oriental porcelain vases were instantly shattered.Then I can't do without this thought: "Amasia...Ahme...No!...I can't make them unhappy...It's just a matter of pride!...Postpone this wedding...Maybe it won't work!...But...surrender!...surrender !...Me!...Ah!...May Allah help me!" Lord Kerabong finished his last prayer and ran out of the living room, propelled by a fury that could not be expressed in action or words.