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Updated: May 6, 2025
"The law ordains that the faithless runaway be punished, and also he with whom she has fled. The captured slave was killed, and it seems to me it was an act of clemency to permit him who loved her to witness her execution without being able to help her. Yes, an act of great clemency. You might have punished me more severely." Again Cousrouf gazes into his countenance searchingly.
He walked beside the couch while the slaves bore it into the room, and deposited it, at his command, beside his own cushions. "Now come, too, tschorbadji, and seat yourself at our side, and let us smoke the chibouque together for the last time." "The pipe of peace, Cousrouf Pacha, as the savages do when seated together for the last time in their wigwam," said Osman, smiling.
"You are my prisoner," cried Mohammed, tearing the sword from Cousrouf's hand, and hurling it far from him. He then grasped him by the shoulders and looked him firmly in the eye. "Cousrouf Pacha, I, Mohammed Ali, make you my prisoner." Cousrouf makes no reply, but only gazes defiantly upon his enemy; gradually his head sinks down upon his breast.
"Their heads shall fall upon the block to-morrow morning, at the hour of prayer," said Mohammed, in so firm and clear a voice that his words were heard by Cousrouf Pacha, who had just entered the hall. "He is right, tschorbadji," said he, bowing his head with great dignity. "Yes, he is right! If the rabble are rebellious, let the heads of some of them fall! Order and law must reign!
Thus will Mohammed Ali be avenged!" In his heart he swears this oath. His lips do not quiver; no feature of his countenance betrays what is passing within. Cousrouf stands still before him, and lays his hand on Mohammed's shoulder. "Look at me, Mohammed!" The latter looks up, and the eyes of both are firmly fixed on each other.
The soldiers demanded their pay of the caimacan as savagely as they had demanded it of Cousrouf. But where was the necessary money to be obtained? He had invoked curses upon himself by endeavoring to procure money by force and extortion. What had become of the promises solemnly made to the people by the caimacan on the first day of his rule?
I hope I am understood by Cousrouf Pacha!" "I regret that I can neither understand nor explain these strange words. But you must feel, tachorbadji, that I have to deny myself the pleasure of remaining longer with you in the company of this wild young man, whose mind seems bewildered by the honors conferred on him. Enjoy yourselves in quiet repose, and be happy at your feast."
The victors have decided to send Cousrouf a prisoner to Cairo, to the citadel where he once sat enthroned. Mohammed entered the apartment in a half-burned house of Damietta in which Cousrouf was confined. None else is in the room.
"And you are now reconciled, Mohammed Ali, and no longer angry?" said Cousrouf, in flattering tones. Mohammed bowed profoundly. "How could I presume to be angry with your gracious highness? You know my devotion to you, Cousrouf." "Prove it! Give me your advice. You know the country, you know the city; your eye is quick, and you observe much.
This is our last meeting, yet you shall often hear of me, and this I tell you in advance: Cousrouf Pacha, where you stood in your power and magnificence, there shall Mohammed Ali stand. He will, however, be more powerful than you were, and no one shall deal with him as he has dealt with you. No one shall depose him from his place, be assured of this, and remember it in your solitude at Imbro.
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