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Updated: June 10, 2025
It was no consolation to him that Bardissi had suffered the same fate. Unrequited love causes bitter anguish. L'Elfi thought only of his heart's misery, and cared nothing for war and military renown. He will return home when his heart's anguish is stilled. Then L'Elfi Bey will draw his sword again to fight for victory and renown. Bardissi felt differently.
As I understand it, you only promised the wives of the Mamelukes permission to remain here, and protection under the condition that they were to abstain from all intercourse with the Mameluke beys. Yet it is known that Osman Bardissi and L'Elfi Bey, the two Mameluke chieftains, were not long since in Cairo, and that they paid the Sitta a visit. They both love her.
All this lordly game is to be chased and driven to bay to-day, and then there are rich spoils to be gathered. Bardissi has hardly quitted his house when the soldiers rush into it, and begin to plunder and destroy after a fashion that can hardly be surpassed by the Mamelukes themselves. The soldiers intend to pay themselves for that which Bardissi owes them. And they do pay themselves.
If the former felt that it was necessary to go into solitude to heal his heart's wounds, the latter preferred to seek distraction in inflicting wounds on his enemies. "For every sigh that passes his lips he will make a Turk exhale his life's breath," so thinks Bardissi the brave.
Thus will I accept your gifts, and give you thanks for them! Come, Osman Bardissi!" she continued in louder tones, beckoning to the bey, who stood without in the shade of an oleander-tree "come and see the magnificent presents which L'Elfi Bey has brought me from England!" L'Elfi's countenance darkened, and he recoiled a step almost in anger. "What! Osman Bey is here?" "And why not?
"Woe to him who sees and understands his enemy, and yet dare not attack him!" cried Bardissi. L'Elfi seemed not to hear him. He beckoned to the Mamelukes who had come with him, greeted his friends with a proud inclination of the head, and galloped away. At a short distance from the camp a small body of English horsemen awaited L'Elfi and his Mamelukes.
The conflict begins, a fierce conflict, the musketry rattles, and carries death into the ranks of both. Erect on his war-horse Bardissi leads the van. He fights his way through, his sword mows down the enemy like the scythe of death. Youssouf, his faithful kachef, rides beside him. Like Bardissi, he fights like a lion, and hews with his trusty sword a pathway through the enemy's ranks.
No sooner had Cousrouf heard of the death of Taher Pacha than he started from Damietta, where he had lain encamped with his army, to return to Cairo and resume his authority. Mohammed, informed of this advance, consulted Bardissi, and it was agreed that their united forces should march out to meet the enemy, Hassan Bey being first sent out with a body of Arabian cavalry to feel the enemy's lines.
War and turmoil prevailed everywhere, and the confusion became worse each day. The Mamelukes now ruled once more in Cairo, and, with them, Mohammed Ali, Bardissi's beloved friend. Ismail Bey sat enthroned in the citadel, and was the outward representative of the magnificence and grandeur of the Mamelukes, but the real rulers were Bardissi and Mohammed Ali.
She turns her lovely countenance with a gentle smile toward the advancing bey, and Bardissi feels the glance of her large eyes, though he does not see them. He feels it, and moves not, a slight tremor possessing itself of his entire being. What!
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