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She wishes to remind him that he had been Mourad's friend. He well understands her meaning, and, stepping quickly forward, falls on his knee before her, and reverently kisses the hem of her dress. "I paused, O Sitta, Rose of Cairo I paused because I heard the song of the slaves they are singing my favorite song." "The song is known to you?" said Sitta Nefysseh. "It is.
Woe to them who know nothing more of love, woe to them who bear a cold heart in their bosom. This you sang, Sitta Nefysseh, and I stood listening, entranced. What I then felt was so all-absorbing, so divinely beautiful, that I was unwilling to have the harmony of that sweet moment broken in upon by the voice of man.
"I remained standing in the tent and listened to your song, Sitta Nefysseh. You sang to your husband of love and happiness sang in sweet words what Djumeil says to his Lubna: `Nature breathes love. The bird in the air sings of love; the spring which bubbles at your feet murmurs of love; the rose that blossoms in the garden sheds love's fragrance all is love and bliss.
"Is your mistress at home?" asked Bardissi, springing lightly to the ground, and throwing the purple-silk reins to the Mameluke who hurried forward. "Yes, Sitta Nefysseh is in the park. She is resting in the kiosk, and I will announce to the female slaves that Osman Bey Bardissi wishes to see their mistress." "Do so, Kachef Youssouf," said Bardissi. "But first listen to me.
They were looking for treasure, highness, and they found nothing. Sitta Nefysseh was considered rich, and that was perhaps her crime; or will your highness be kind enough to inform us if Sitta Nefysseh is accused of any other crime!" "She is," replied Cousrouf. "She is accused of the most shameful of all crimes.
And in his songs he also intimates that the dagger-stroke which lay the general low near the palace, was dealt at the instigation of the jealous bey. Who does not know Sitta Nefysseh, the benefactress of the poor, the proud heroine who fought at her husband's side, who shared with Mourad the dangers of war, a heroine in battle, a gentle, modest woman in the harem? All is still about her.
He heard this cry, and muttered between his teeth, "These rebels shall pay for this!" The shouting populace conducted Sitta Nefysseh in triumph through the streets. The cadi was loudly applauded, and the viceroy derided. These shouts were not only heard by the viceroy, but also by Mohammed Ali in his silent chamber, and they brought a smile to his lips.
The people who had accompanied the carriage remained without, yelling and shrieking: "Sitta Nefysseh is imprisoned let us liberate her!" Sitta Nefysseh had left her carriage, and was now following the cadi, who walked in advance. Behind her came the two women, followed by the officers. Thus the procession moved in profound silence up the broad stairway and into the grand reception saloon.
While Lord Hutchinson and Sitta Nefysseh returned with the wounded to Alexandria, where the wives of the disabled and dead Mamelukes were weeping and lamenting, Mohammed Ali returned to the ship. The soldiers were nearly all disembarked; silence reigned in the ship, and its blood-stained deck alone bore evidence of the murderous deed that had been done.
Do you not see his eyes fixed on you with an angry expression, and do not his lips ask his friend how he can betray friendship? What was your promise to Mourad? To honor and guard his wife while you lived." "And I will, Sitta Nefysseh. I do guard and honor her, but I also love her as ardently as ever man loved woman!" exclaimed Bardissi, in passionate tones.
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