"What curses good Cousrouf must be invoking upon my head at this moment! He will have discovered by this time that his good friend Mohammed still somewhat resembles the 'insolent lad,' as he always called him, of Cavalla. You have schooled me well, Cousrouf; you have converted the insolent lad into a lion who wears the skin of a fox. You were pleased with the fox, stroked his fur, and called him your devoted servant. But, only wait, the fox-skin will soon fall to the ground and disclose the lion ready to destroy you. Yes,"continued he, "wait but a few days longer, and this transformation shall take place. It must take place. The week will soon have elapsed, and then Bardissi must have my answer. Cousrouf shall hear it and quake in his citadel. Everything is ready, and my new friends shall soon hear from me."Suddenly he stopped before the window and listened attentively.
Fierce and savage cries had succeeded the shouts of joy. The voices of women and children were now hushed, and the hoarse tones of men only could be heard. He hastily stepped back from the window. No, he must not be seen. If seen, he might be called and compelled to join in the movement against his will, and the time has not yet come. He must still wait.
He stood still in the middle of the room, and listened to the uproar that came.
"This is revolt! These are soldiers!" said he to himself, stepping to the door of the antechamber, and beckoning to a slave. "What is the meaning of this uproar?""I know not, sarechsme. Shall I go down to inquire?""Go down, mingle with the crowd, and find out what it means, and then return to me as quickly as possible."The Nubian hastened to do his master's bidding. Mohammed continued to walk to and fro. The uproar, as it came nearer, had become intelligible.
"We want money! Give us bread! We are hungry. and must have our pay!"Such were the savage cries that resounded from the street below.
"Ah, I understand," said Mohammed to himself ; "these are Taher Pacha's soldiers! He has marched with them into the city, to begin the work on his own account; Taher is ambitious, and wants the viceroy's throne. He begins the work of rebellion for himself, he will end it for me; though I can as yet take no active part in it! OSitta Nefysseh, you have brought me a step nearer to the throne, and Taber is advancing me another. Wait, Mohammed, only wait."The Nubian returned and announced that a revolt had broken oat among Taber Pacha's soldiers. They had gone to the citadel, and savagely demanded their pay. The viceroy had received a deputation sent by them, and told them to go to the defterdar, and demand payment of him in the viceroy's name. In accordance with this demand, the soldiers had then repaired to the house of the defterdar, and had, upon admission being denied them, broken down the doors. The minister of finance, however, rid himself of them by telling them to demand their pay of Mohammed Ali, who had a few days before received ten purses of gold from the viceroy for the payment of the troops.
"And now the soldiers have come here," said the Nubian, in deferential, anxious tones. "They have surrounded the house, and demand their pay. They are furious, and swear by Allah and the prophet that they will not rest until they have received the money due them. They complain, too, of being sent from house to house like beggars.""The poor fellows are right," said Mohammed.
Fierce cries now resounded from below:
"We will not be trodden under foot like dogs! We are no beggars!
Give us our pay, Mohammed Ali! The defterdar sends us to you! You have our money, and we want it!"He sprang to the window, tore it open, and, in tones that were heard above the uproar, commanded silence.
"The defterdar has deceived you. I have no money! I will come down to you."He quickly stepped back from the window, and laid the sword, dagger, and pistols, that hung in his belt, on the table.
"They shall see that I am not alarmed. I will go down to them unarmed."No, Mohammed Ali is not alarmed, they all perceive as he appears among them unarmed, and motions the soldiers, that are rushing upon him, back, with a wave of the hand.
"Stand back, soldiers, and do not forget that I am the sarechsme.
Not your general, but yet, like you, in the viceroy's service.""Does he also pay you as he does us? " asked a soldier, in mocking tones. "Do they also give you empty promises instead of money?""That is an insolent question," said he. "I will, however, answer it, because I choose to do so. They do not pay me. They gave the sarechsme, after he had waited in vain for many months, ten purses of gold; they owe him more. Ask my soldiers what I did with this money. I shared it with my soldiers as a general should. I retained five purses, for this amount was due my creditors. The other five purses I gave to my soldiers--not as their pay, the viceroy owes them that, but as a present from me. I have received no other money--I swear to this by Allah and the prophet. Go to my soldiers and ask them if this is not true, and then do as you think proper.""Long live Mohammed Ali! Long live the generous sarechsme!" cried one of the soldiers, and the cry was taken up and repeated by all the rest.
"It is needless to go to the soldiers, for the sarechsme tells the truth. Let us return to the defterdar; he must and shall pay us!"The revolting soldiers surged on up the street. Mohammed, however, returned to his solitary apartments with a clearer brow and a more derisive smile on his lips:
"This was well done, and can tend only to my advantage. Taher Pacha will not be much pleased, either, when his soldiers tell him of the presents made by me to mine. The waves are surging higher and higher, but I see the boat in which I am to ride over them safely.
