I would
not mention this but that our enemies misreported the facts home, and
it went forth to the world that I behaved like a female tyrant, and
flogged and shot the people. How this rumour arose I know not, for I
never shot anybody, and the only time I flogged a man was as follows.
I do not repent it, and under similar circumstances should do the same
over again.
One day I was riding alone through the village of Zebedani; as usual
every one rose up and saluted me, and I was joined by several native
Christians. Suddenly Hasan, a youth of about twenty-two, thrust himself
before my horse; the natives dropped on their knee, praying me not to
be angry, and kissed my hands, which meant, "For Allah's sake bear it
patiently! We are not strong enough to fight for you." By this time
quite a crowd had collected, and I was the centre of all eyes. "What
is the meaning of this?" I asked Hasan. "It means," he answered, "that
I want to raise the devil to-day, and I will pull you off your horse
and duck you in the water. I am a Beg, and you are a Beg. Salute me!"
Salute him indeed! I did salute him, but hardly in the way he bargained
for. I had only an instant to think over what I could do. I knew that
to give him the slightest advantage over me would be to bring on a
Consular and European row, and a Christian row too, and that if I evinced
the smallest cowardice I should never be able to show my face again.
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