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"You have deserved your reward, and you shall have it! I appoint you kachef of my guard, and give you a command of one hundred Mamelukes." Youssouf's countenance lighted up, and his eyes sparkled with delight. He thought of Sitta Nefysseh, and rejoiced in his successful feat, and 'in his reward, because she would be pleased.
She seemed to be struggling to regain control of herself. Youssouf's eyes rested on her in a glance of such passionate tenderness that she felt it without seeing it. "I have a final commission to give you," said she. "A command, mistress! You know that your slightest is a command for me, and would be carried out if I should die in the performance!" "Die?" said she, with a slight start.
Youssouf Bey is his lieutenant, his favorite, and his master is desirous that he alone shall reap the golden fruit of victory. If he is defeated, Mohammed is to march to Youssouf's assistance with all possible speed.
She tolerates me as she tolerates the dog that is accustomed to lie on the threshold of her door. Alas, I should die if she knew of Youssouf's love for her!" Kachef Youssouf is handsome, and, were it not the noble Sitta Nefysseh, exception would be taken to a woman's having so handsome a kachef in her service.
She well knows that Youssouf Bey is wounded unto death that there is no hope of recovery: Yet she does not weep. With Allah all is possible, and he may be gracious. A miracle may occur; Youssouf's youthful vigor and his heroic nature may yet vanquish Death. Perhaps her love may preserve him. Grant, merciful Allah, that it be so!
"I thank you; I will drive out at once with two of my women; you may ride beside my carriage." Sitta Nefysseh arose and left the kiosk. She passed close by him, and her white veil lightly touched Youssouf's shoulder. He stood as if touched by a magic wand and fixed to the spot. He could not follow his mistress, who walked proudly toward the place where the women awaited her.
A cry resounds from her lips, and she sinks down. "O Allah, watch over him! Let him return! I love him I love him so dearly!" An hour had scarcely elapsed since Youssouf's departure when two of her maids rushed into Sitta Nefysseh's presence with anxious looks. She lay on the divan, her countenance entirely concealed, to hide her tear-stained features.
"I thank you, Osman Bey, you have saved my life." "And I thank Allah that I was at your side and could save it." Finally they succeed in getting over, and now they stand on the other shore. Bardissi embraces Mohammed, and congratulates him on their safe passage. He then grasps Youssouf's hand, and thanks him once more. "Now, good Cousrouf, the days of your rule are numbered."
Much was told the fellah of the want of the soldiers, and of the longing of the people to see the war terminated. "If they could only get over," said some of the people, with a sigh. "There are shallow places, here and there, where a passage would be easy." Youssouf's manner was careless and indifferent, but nothing escaped him.
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