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　the　Head　Treasurer’s　good…for…nothing

son…in…law or the health of his tabby cat。 Silently； we entered the Sultan’s

Private　Garden。　As　if　mitting　a　crime；　but　with　great　delicacy；　we　serenely

descended toward the sea through the trees。 “We’re nearing the Sea…Side

Kiosk；” I thought； “this means I will see the Sultan。 His Excellency must be

here。”　But　we　turned　off　the　path。　We　walked　ahead　a　few　steps　through　the

arched doorway of a stone building behind the rowboat and ca？que sheds。 I

could　smell　the　scent　of　baking　bread　wafting　from　the　guard’s　bakery　before

catching　sight　of　the　Imperial　Guard　themselves　in　their　red　uniforms。

The Head Treasurer and the mander of the Imperial Guard were

together　in　one　room：　Angel　and　Devil！

The　mander；　who　performed　executions　in　the　name　of　Our　Sultan　on

the palace grounds—who tortured； interrogated； beat； blinded and

administered　the　bastinado—smiled　sweetly　at　me。　It　was　as　if　some　piddling

lodger； with whom I was forced to share a caravansary cell； were going to

recount　a　heart…warming　story。