That night； when Elegant Effendi and I came here； the snow hadn’t yet
begun to fall。 We could hear the howling of mongrels echo in the distance。
21
“Pray； for what reason have we e here？” the unfortunate one had asked。
“What do you plan to show me out here at this late hour？”
“Just ahead lies a well； twelve paces beyond which I’ve buried the money
I’ve been saving for years；” I said。 “If you keep everything I’ve explained to you
secret； Enishte Effendi and I will see that you are happily rewarded。”
“Am I to understand that you admit you knew what you were doing from
the beginning？” he said in agitation。
“I admit it；” I lied obligingly。
“You acknowledge the picture you’ve made is in fact a desecration； don’t
you？” he said innocently。 “It’s heresy； a sacrilege that no decent man would
have the gall to mit。 You’re going to burn in the pits of Hell。 Your
suffering and pain will never diminish—and you’ve made me an acplice。”
As I listened to him； I sensed with horror how his words had such strength
and gravity that； willingly or not； people would heed them； hoping that they
would prove true about miserable creatures other than themselves。 Many
rumors like this about Enishte Effendi had begun to fly due to the secrecy of
the book he was making and the money he was willing to pay—and because
Master Osman； the Head Illuminator； despised him。 It occurred to me that
perhaps my brother gilder； Elegant； had with sly intent used these facts to
buttress his false accusations。 To what degree was he being honest？
I had him repeat the claims