Mohammed Ali and His House [105]
I swear I will love you eternally! And now kiss me, too, and let this kiss be the vow of your eternal love for me!"
She kissed him passionately. "I love you, Mohammed, and you alone will I love on earth!"
He looks at her tenderly, and shudders, for her countenance is still deathly pale.
"I can no longer look upon your dear face, I cannot!" he cries, in tones of anguish. "I have a dread foreboding that I see you for the last time. Farewell, Masa, farewell! Pray for me, and for yourself, and for our love. Farewell, sweet being, my white dove, farewell!"
He folds her to his heart once more, and then away, away out into the night. He still hears behind him the tones of the sweet voice crying, "Farewell, farewell!"
Then all is still, and he rushes on through the darkness toward the stairway in the rock.
BOOK III.
THE MAMELUKES
CHAPTER I
REVENGE.
The night was mild and warm; the sea rested in silent majesty like a slumbering lion, and the wind seemed to hold its breath in order that his repose might not be disturbed. To be in the open air on such a night was good for the weak breast of an invalid, and Osman's father was therefore not surprised when his son expressed a desire to pass the night in the garden pavilion, in preference to remaining in the close apartments of the palace. He would be protected from wind and rain by the roof of the pavilion, and from all other sources of danger the two slaves that had been his faithful and devoted servants from his earliest youth would guard him. The two servants carried his cushions down into the garden, and Osman now lay there, wrapped in his silken coverlet; the two slaves were crouched down at his side. They were still there when the tschorbadji, before retiring for the night, came down to see his son once more and bid him good-night; and there they remained until all the lights were extinguished in the apartments of the tschorbadji as well as in those of the pacha. Then, when all had become still, one of them stooped down and addressed his master in low tones; after they had carried on a short, whispered conversation the slave arose and glided noiselessly away toward the garden-wall, which formed no obstacle to his progress--as the faithful servant could climb like a cat--and he was soon on the other side.
Osman remained on his couch, conversing in low tones with the other servant. Both were attentively observing the pacha's harem, and it surprised them to see that lights were being carried to and fro in the lower apartments at so late an hour.
"Something extraordinary is surely taking place there," murmured Osman, "and we must be on our guard, and listen to the slightest noise."
Hours passed, and the same activity was still being displayed in the harem; and from time to time the attentive servant perceived shadows flitting up and down the avenue that led to the harem.
Footsteps are now heard approaching. It is the slave Nadeg, and he comes swiftly to his master's couch, kneels down and speaks to him for some time in low, earnest tones. Osman rises from his cushions.
"The time has come, we must warn him, we must help him! Be quick, both of you!--Jabad, hasten to the summit of the rock. Here, take the pistol and give the signal agreed upon, three shots fired at short intervals.--But you, Nadeg, hasten down to the mouth of the cave again, and when, aroused by my shots, my friend comes out, call him, tell him I am awaiting him, and bring him to me at once. Oh, I am anxious on his account: be quick, that you may get there in time!"
The two walk stealthily and rapidly down the garden-path. Osman listens to their retreating footsteps, and, as they die away in the distance, he draws a breath of relief. They are good, zealous servants, and will obey his instructions faithfully. He listens again eagerly, and again looks over toward the harem, where be sees the lights still flitting about and shadows passing the windows.
Osman's heart tells him that something unusual, something that bodes no good to his friend, is going on there,
She kissed him passionately. "I love you, Mohammed, and you alone will I love on earth!"
He looks at her tenderly, and shudders, for her countenance is still deathly pale.
"I can no longer look upon your dear face, I cannot!" he cries, in tones of anguish. "I have a dread foreboding that I see you for the last time. Farewell, Masa, farewell! Pray for me, and for yourself, and for our love. Farewell, sweet being, my white dove, farewell!"
He folds her to his heart once more, and then away, away out into the night. He still hears behind him the tones of the sweet voice crying, "Farewell, farewell!"
Then all is still, and he rushes on through the darkness toward the stairway in the rock.
BOOK III.
THE MAMELUKES
CHAPTER I
REVENGE.
The night was mild and warm; the sea rested in silent majesty like a slumbering lion, and the wind seemed to hold its breath in order that his repose might not be disturbed. To be in the open air on such a night was good for the weak breast of an invalid, and Osman's father was therefore not surprised when his son expressed a desire to pass the night in the garden pavilion, in preference to remaining in the close apartments of the palace. He would be protected from wind and rain by the roof of the pavilion, and from all other sources of danger the two slaves that had been his faithful and devoted servants from his earliest youth would guard him. The two servants carried his cushions down into the garden, and Osman now lay there, wrapped in his silken coverlet; the two slaves were crouched down at his side. They were still there when the tschorbadji, before retiring for the night, came down to see his son once more and bid him good-night; and there they remained until all the lights were extinguished in the apartments of the tschorbadji as well as in those of the pacha. Then, when all had become still, one of them stooped down and addressed his master in low tones; after they had carried on a short, whispered conversation the slave arose and glided noiselessly away toward the garden-wall, which formed no obstacle to his progress--as the faithful servant could climb like a cat--and he was soon on the other side.
Osman remained on his couch, conversing in low tones with the other servant. Both were attentively observing the pacha's harem, and it surprised them to see that lights were being carried to and fro in the lower apartments at so late an hour.
"Something extraordinary is surely taking place there," murmured Osman, "and we must be on our guard, and listen to the slightest noise."
Hours passed, and the same activity was still being displayed in the harem; and from time to time the attentive servant perceived shadows flitting up and down the avenue that led to the harem.
Footsteps are now heard approaching. It is the slave Nadeg, and he comes swiftly to his master's couch, kneels down and speaks to him for some time in low, earnest tones. Osman rises from his cushions.
"The time has come, we must warn him, we must help him! Be quick, both of you!--Jabad, hasten to the summit of the rock. Here, take the pistol and give the signal agreed upon, three shots fired at short intervals.--But you, Nadeg, hasten down to the mouth of the cave again, and when, aroused by my shots, my friend comes out, call him, tell him I am awaiting him, and bring him to me at once. Oh, I am anxious on his account: be quick, that you may get there in time!"
The two walk stealthily and rapidly down the garden-path. Osman listens to their retreating footsteps, and, as they die away in the distance, he draws a breath of relief. They are good, zealous servants, and will obey his instructions faithfully. He listens again eagerly, and again looks over toward the harem, where be sees the lights still flitting about and shadows passing the windows.
Osman's heart tells him that something unusual, something that bodes no good to his friend, is going on there,