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Updated: June 21, 2025
Here I lie, smoking Cousrouf's chibouque on Cousrouf's cushions!" "I congratulate you on your magnificence, and hope you may long repose there." "It is to be hoped that I shall," replied Taher Pacha. "Fortune smiles on the daring. Had you been bold enough, you might now be in my place, Mohammed Ali; but you probably shrank from incurring the risk.
"Let them fight on; in a short time these rebels and traitors will yield, and sue for mercy. I will have their heads severed from their bodies, and sent to Stamboul as trophies of victory!" But what does this strange noise mean? A volley resounds from beneath Cousrouf's windows.
The young general divines Cousrouf's thoughts, but the pacha does not divine Mohammed's. "You said that the Mohammed of the days when I resided in Cavalla is dead. Is it true?" "Yes, highness, it is true. He is dead, or he has at least transformed himself into a better man. Yet, highness, he suffered much before he could accomplish this transformation."
It is a farewell letter from my master, who leaves to-morrow for Stamboul." For an instant a smile glides over Cousrouf's countenance; but then it assumes a sad expression. "The capitan pacha is about to depart to leave me." "He wishes to leave to you alone the honor of having laid subjugated Egypt at the feet of his master the grand-sultan, in Stamboul. He has done what lay in his power.
His Nubian slave now enters and announces to his master that the sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, stands without, awaiting his pleasure. Cousrouf's countenance quickly assumes a friendly expression. "Leave me, defterdar, and await me in the next room. I shall not detain the sarechsme long." The defterdar withdrew, and the Nubian slave opened the door to admit the general.
Now they were separated from the enemy by the canal only, but Cousrouf's cannon made impassible the one bridge that united the two shores. "Yet we must effect our passage to the other side," said Bardissi. "Yes, but the question is, how are we to do so?" said Mohammed. All the bim bashis and boulouk bashis, together with the beys and their kachefs, were called together in a council of war.
Mohammed expresses his gratitude and devotion in such eloquent terms that Cousrouf's heart is touched, and he feels impelled to address some kindly words to the new sarechsme. He dismisses Hassan Aga with friendly greetings to the capitan pacha, and motioned to the sarechsme to remain.
He hears them lock the door from the outside; hears the murmuring of voices, and then all is again quiet. What was the cot intended for? What could it all mean? He listens, and looks around anxiously; but all is still. Perhaps his care and anxiety have been groundless; perhaps these are only things the servants are carrying to the ship to prepare for Cousrouf's departure on the morrow.
Suddenly his arm is grasped, and held as in a vise. "Give him to me, Bardissi!" cries Mohammed. "And you wish to save Cousrouf's life, Mohammed?" "Only give him to me, Bardissi, I pray you!" Bardissi recognized in the tone in which these few words were uttered, that Mohammed's motive in making his request was not love for Cousrouf.
Osman had reserved his decision for the last day, and Mohammed seemed to have entirely forgotten that he was selected as the captain's lieutenant. He had not spoken of it during these days; Cousrouf's mention of him seemed to have made no impression on him, and his attention appeared to have been directed wholly to the equipment of the soldiers.
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