He walked into the neat apartment. Sitta Nefysseh, who had again covered her face with her veil, stood proudly erect in the midst of the saloon. The two weeping women stepped nearer to their mistress, and asked if danger threatened her, and begged to be permitted to accompany her everywhere.
1
The cadi now returned and stood at the threshold, holding the velvet curtain aside.
"Be kind enough to enter, Sitta Nefysseh.""Not alone. My women will accompany me."
"No, they are to remain here. You alone are to enter. The women will await your return here."Sitta Nefysseh walked proudly into the next apartment. The curtain fell back behind her. Cousrouf, who lay stretched out on his silken cushions, smoking his chibouque, looked up at her through the clouds of smoke that enveloped him as she entered the room. She looked at him composedly, and remained standing at the door with so proud and dignified a bearing, such majesty in her whole appearance, that Cousrouf's insolence could not but succumb. He arose and advanced to meet her.
"I salute you, Sitta Nefysseh, widow of Mourad Bey!""I do not return your salutation. I have been conducted here from my house in an insulting manner, and I am now surprised to find that his highness seems only to have had me brought here in order to salute me.""I did not call you in order to salute you, but for an entirely different purpose," replied Cousrouf. "Seat yourself on the ottoman beside me, and let us converse.""Converse, highness? Friends and confidants sit down to converse with each other, but unfortunately we are neither," replied she, composedly, as she seated herself on the ottoman with the dignity of a princess. Cousrouf remaining standing, Sitta Nefysseh raised her hand and pointed to the divan. "To the viceroy belongs the seat of honor. I beg your highness to take that seat."He bowed slightly, and took the seat assigned him.
"I wished to beg Sitta Nefysseh's permission to seat myself at her side,to converse with her as a friend. You do not desire it, however--you wish to see in me the prince only. Let it be so. I am only the viceroy, and I have summoned you to appear before me.""Summoned, you call it?" cried she, passionately. "I call it being dragged here in a disgraceful manner!""Compose yourself, Sitta Nefysseh; let us converse calmly. I have grave reproaches to make.""Against me?" asked she, in astonishment.
"Yes, serious, grave reproaches! You are of the opinion, are you not, that every mistress is responsible for the actions of her servants?""I am, because, if one has bad and faithless servants, he should discharge them. Yes, it seems to me a master is responsible for his servants' actions.""And therefore, have I summoned you to this audience. Do you know what your kachef Youssouf has done?"Sitta Nefysseh trembled. It was fortunate that her veil concealed her features, and that Cousrouf could not see the deathly pallor that overspread her cheeks.
"My kachef?" said she, with forced composure. "Of what is he accused?""He is accused of attempting to bribe my soldiers, and incite them to revolt and treason.""That is not true!" exclaimed she, passionately. "That is a falsehood, and I tell you so to your face! My words are true. My kachef has never done such things; he is incapable of inciting any one to a breach of faith or to treason. He is the truest and best of my servants.""And yet it is true. Your kachef has incited my soldiers to treason.
The viceroy says it is true!" cried Cousrouf. "Youssouf attempted to corrupt one of my own soldiers, an Armenian, urging him to go over to Osman Bardissi. When the soldier refused, he promised to give him the same pay he now receives from me.""Highness, that is not true, I swear it is not!""Here is the proof!" answered Cousrouf, rising to his feet and taking from the table a paper, which he unfolded. "Here is the proof! Here it is, plainly written in his own handwriting! Herein your kachef Youssouf promises my soldier, Sadok Aga, to give him his whole pay, and even double the amount, if he will undertake to ride to Bardissi's camp and convey a letter to the bey. Here it is in his own handwriting, and signed by him.""Highness, I beg you to let me see the writing," said Nefysseh, extending her hand to take the paper. "Let me see it; I can read."Cousrouf did not comply with her request. He folded the paper, and laid it on the table again.
"It is unnecessary that you should read it. I insist that your kachef endeavors to corrupt my soldiers and induce them to desert to Bardissi's camp. This is clearly treason. As you yourself admit that a mistress is responsible for her servant's actions, I declare and shall hold you, Sitta Nefysseh, responsible for your servant's crime.""That you cannot do, highness! Youssouf is no longer my servant, is no longer in my house. I have discharged him, not because I thought ill of him, not because I desired to punish him, but because Iesteem him, because I know he was created for something better than to be only the servant of a woman. I discharged him because his courage and nobility of soul urged him to draw the sword and go out to battle. He has gone to Bardissi's camp to serve in the ranks of his Mamelukes.""That is to say," cried Cousrouf, in angry tones--"that is to say, Sitta Nefysseh, Mourad Bey's widow raises soldiers in her house for the army of our enemy!""Could your highness expect Mourad Bey's--the Mameluke chieftain's--widow to raise soldiers for the enemies of her deceased husband?"asked she, throwing her head back proudly. "Yet let me remark this:
