Mohammed Ali and His House

e once more enthroned in the citadel. Cairo r

he citizens could once more pursue their daily avocations in tranquillity, and bands of

, their hopes are vain. In Cairo there is peace, for Ismail Bey, the oldest and wisest of the Ma

der subjection to their sarechsme, Mohammed Ali. But, without,

ps followed him there, and has not his reputation drawn many to his standard? And are there not many who refuse to

han he started from Damietta, where he had lain encamped w

that their united forces should march out to meet the enemy, Hassan Bey be

y now marched out, Moh

side by side; the Al

ront; behind them ca

oui

him, and had stormed the village of Fareskour, in which the bey had fortified himself.

manded re-enforcements, which were given him. With these, he again advanced toward Damietta, followed by Mohammed and Bardissi with their powerful columns. With great haste, Cousrouf set about making Damietta strong enough to defy

grand-sultan at Stamboul has appointed me viceroy; the rebels have d

his soldiers to encourage them to ma

s followers; the scouts sent out returned with the inte

the mounted troops. Now they were separated from the enemy by the canal only,

r passage to the other

n is, how are we to d

hefs, were called together in a council of war. For a long time their delib

places in the canal, I have been told; and, if some one could be found willing to incur the danger of making inquiries

Youssouf, stepping forward. "I will go over to

" said Bardissi, "but consider that yo

performance of my duty! I will

se the first sentinel on the wall

will not be able to recognize in me the k

et, entirely unarmed, a plain brown cap on his head, and carrying, suspended to a strap over his shoulder,

ly with them in the Arabian tongue, and told them of the enemy who was approaching, but

erefore chatted with him unreservedly. Much was told the fellah of the want

people, with a sigh. "There are shallow places

ch he was exposed, and he passed the entire day strolling around in Damietta. But, when night came, he hastened to the canal, and

person. He hastened to the camp to Bardissi, to bring the glad intelligence that there is a place where the

d your reward, and you shall have it! I appoint you kachef o

delight. He thought of Sitta Nefysseh, and rejoiced in his suc

nceforth? O Sitta Nefysseh, if the time were only come when on bended knee I can say to you: 'Your servant has returned, but he is no longer a po

conducted by Youssouf to the plac

Osman Bey, and beside him Mohammed Ali. The passage must be effe

hes their shoulders, and they can hardly retain their foothold. Kachef Youssouf must ha

side, rushes after him, grasps him wit

man Bey, you hav

hat I was at your si

shore. Bardissi embraces Mohammed, and congratulates him on their sa

, the days of your

, rejoice in your coming overthrow. O Allah,

e where the cannon are in position, cut down the gunners before they can giv

rter is given. They massacre all who fall into their hands; every house is sacked and then burned. On the square in front of Fort Lesbe, a column of soldiers, Cousrouf Pacha at its head, sitting proudly erect on his steed, still op

e, and it sinks to the ground. With difficulty he su

awing his ataghan. "Let us fight our way thr

aims Bardissi, his uplifted swor

is grasped, and h

e, Bardissi!"

save Cousrouf's

to me, Bardis

few words were uttered, that Mohammed's motive

," cried Mohammed, t

urling it far from him

ed him firmly in the e

, make you m

breast. Yes, he is vanquished and a prisoner, a prisoner of his worst enemy. He could be in no worse hand

ss enemy! With him are vanquished all his followers, and not

usrouf a prisoner to Cairo, to the

one else is in the room. Without, the sentinel is pacing to and fro, and in an adjoining room lie t

voluntarily he carries his hand to his belt. He is unarmed! He c

g time no word is spoken. At last Cousrouf raises his eyes and endeavors to look his enemy in the face; but he cannot. So terrible, so threatening is his expression, that C

a mask; you placed it on my countenance, and I allowed you to do so, and awaited

nd now his glance was firm,

wear a mask. He who now stands before me is hardly a human bein

geance personified. Cousrouf, I have awaited this hour for thirteen years. Am I not to en

lf the victor. I am he! This your thirst for vengeance proclaims. It tells me that the wound in your heart still burns. And who gave you this wound? I, Cousrouf Pacha, and therefore do you seek vengeance on me. The wound still bleeds, and I am triumphant! Yes, I am the victor. You should see your own cou

ountenance, and his eyes gleamed fiercely. He grasped the dagger in his

him with a trium

e longed for it after

ce. His arm sank slowly to his side, a

were her murderer, not her judge! You were not her master, she was not your slave. Her death was not lawful; you could not condemn her, and therefore do I call you a common murderer. I know that murderers are slain, that blood is atoned for by blood. This punishment the heart dictates, and this punishment the

being led a prisoner into the citadel, where I once ruled your master, and where Mohammed Ali, the sarechsme by my grace, so often knelt in the dust before

emember, Cousrouf Pacha-that, too, is a part of Mohammed Ali's revenge-had I slain you, all your sufferings would have been at an end! But you shall live and suffer for many a long year to come! For Cousrouf Pacha caused Mohammed Ali to suffer