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Updated: June 10, 2025
If vanquished, we should also be massacred, and they would finish here at Damanhour the work they began at Aboukir. Can you desire that, ye beys?" "We desire to conquer, and not to flee like cowards!" replied Bardissi, haughtily. "The unwise general attacks incautiously, and when defeated is laughed at for his pains," replied L'Elfi.
You came with a new declaration of love, which Nefysseh rejected, because Bardissi had been with her in the self-same hour, and had renewed his addresses, and because he would never forgive you if I chose you instead of himself. And now this fearful disaster has overtaken us all! Treachery has stained our streets with blood! The Mameluke beys have left the city in wild flight!
If Bardissi did not, L'Elfi would! And then my oath! O Mourad, be with me in this hour, that I may remain firm! Be strong, my heart! It may not be!" The door opened, and a slave entered to announce that the Mameluke bey, Youssouf, was waiting at the door with his suite, and humbly begged that he might be permitted to see Sitta Nefysseh.
"If I should die, you will take these keys to Osman Bey Bardissi, and tell him that Sitta Nefysseh sends them to him, and that in the vault here are souvenirs for her friends. You, however, Youssouf, I make the executor of my last will; you are to distribute the souvenirs according to a list that I will give you."
L'Elfi Bey shook his head. "We must wait, friends and companions in arms," said he. "I think it would be rash and unwise to meet the enemy, when his army is twice as strong as ours, and I came here to tell you this." "Then, by Allah, it would have been better had you not come!" cried Bardissi, angrily.
You will find me at your tent by morning. If I am not there, Osman Bey Bardissi, you will know that the Bedouin sheik, Arnhyn, is no longer among the living, and that the sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, has been too shrewd for him." On the green fields of Gheezeh, near the verge of the yellow desert, lies Mohammed Ali encamped with his forces.
But suddenly a well-aimed ball strikes him, he reels in his saddle, and falls with a low moan to the earth, while Bardissi and his men press on. He succeeds in fighting his way out of the city. Onward the whole train flies toward Gheezeh. Bardissi is wounded; his right hand bleeds, and blood is streaming down his cheeks. Bardissi is wounded, yet he lives, and is saved.
The soldiers who had heard all, cried loudly: "Long live our sarechsme! Long live Bardissi, our chief!" "Believe me, soldiers, he will give you your pay! Will you not, Bardissi?" "Yes, sarechsme, your soldiers shall receive their pay. I give you my word, they shall be paid to-morrow. Come to the citadel, to my defterdar to-morrow morning, and he will pay you."
The day is beautiful, and the sunshine glitters upon the water; laughter and jesting resound from every boat; but now, when Osman Bardissi begins to sing a warlike song, all are silent and listen attentively. He sings words with which he has often led his hosts out to battle.
On they press, and now they are no longer followed. The soldiers have still much to do in Cairo. Let Bardissi flee with his richly-laden dromedaries; let him depart from Cairo with his Mamelukes; but let him return no more. He draws rein now that the city is behind him; he looks back, and a tear trickles down his cheek and mingles with his blood. For whom was this tear?
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