Mohammed Ali and His House [216]
hour, and had renewed his addresses, and because he would never forgive you if I chose you instead of himself. And now this fearful disaster has overtaken us all! Treachery has stained our streets with blood! The Mameluke beys have left the city in wild flight! You, Youssouf Bey, have, however, remained here, and now I may tell you all, avow all that I feel and have endured and suffered in secret. I may tell you that I love you, and Allah will be merciful and gracious, Youssouf. We are united in love. The seal has fallen from my lips, and they dare proclaim what I feel. Oh, my Youssouf, there is a bright future in store for us; you will recover, and be strong and happy!"
"I am already well," murmured he. "All is well with me, Sitta Nefysseh, for you love me, and in your love I shall regain health and strength."
His lips cease to speak, and a tremor courses through his whole being.
"Youssouf!" cries she, in tones of anguish--"Youssouf! Oh, stay with me, do not leave me!"
In response to her call, he opens his eyes and gives her a tender look.
"Yes, Sitta Nefysseh, I shall remain with you throughout all time, throughout eternity, for love is eternal."
His lips are hushed, but his eyes still gaze up at her, for a moment, with the lustre of life; then they grow dim and cold, and slowly the veil of death sinks down over his countenance. The lips that but now spoke the words, "I love you," are hushed forever!
Bowed down over him, her eyes axed intently on the features from which the last traces of life are vanishing, she sees the kiss that Death has imprinted on his lips; and the last smile slowly fade from his countenance.
And again she neither weeps nor laments; she only tears the veil from her head with a wild, despairing movement, and lays it over the countenance of her beloved dead.
"Sleep, Youssouf, sleep beneath my veil! You are dead, and my happiness dies with you--I shall be a living monument to your memory! I shall live in poverty and solitude, Youssouf, and the treasures which you buried for me beneath the earth shall remain there, a subterranean monument to my love. They shall never see the light of day! You have buried my treasures, and I will bury my greatest, holiest treasure--you, Youssouf Bey; and with you Sitta Nefysseh buries her youth, her love, and her grandeur, to be henceforth only a poor widow, who lives in solitary retirement, a prey to sorrow. Sleep, Youssouf Bey! You will awake with me above, to an eternal life--sleep, Youssouf!"
She lifts the veil once more, and kisses the forehead, now cold as marble; she then replaces it softly, and leaves the room.
CHAPTER XIV
COURSCHID PACHA.
A new viceroy is enthroned in Cairo, the viceroy Courschid Pacha, and it is again the old story of wars, want of money, and oppression of the people.
Courschid Pacha! What is he but a continuation of all the other viceroys, governors, and caimacans who have ruled in Cairo since Egypt has belonged to the Turkish empire? New taxes, new extortion, and new wars. For the Mameluke beys have assembled on the plain of Gheezeh and formed new plans, recruited their ranks with Arabians and Nubians, and prepared to take the field against the rulers in Cairo, and above all against their most hated enemy, the pacha Mohammed Ali.
Such was the dignity conferred upon Mohammed by Courschid Pacha, upon his entrance into Cairo, in the name of the grand sultan.
It is not to war against Courschid Pacha that the Mamelukes are assembling their forces. To destroy Mohammed Ali, the soldier-king, the real ruler in Cairo, is their aim; and, in order to accomplish this, they even humble themselves before the viceroy, who is already involved in a conflict with Mohammed. They seek to treat with him, and with the grand-admiral of the Turkish fleet, sent by the Sublime Porte to Alexandria to restore peace to the distracted country. To him, the grand-admiral, the Mameluke beys address a letter offering their services:
"The undersigned, knowing that your highness has come to Egypt to put an end to the
"I am already well," murmured he. "All is well with me, Sitta Nefysseh, for you love me, and in your love I shall regain health and strength."
His lips cease to speak, and a tremor courses through his whole being.
"Youssouf!" cries she, in tones of anguish--"Youssouf! Oh, stay with me, do not leave me!"
In response to her call, he opens his eyes and gives her a tender look.
"Yes, Sitta Nefysseh, I shall remain with you throughout all time, throughout eternity, for love is eternal."
His lips are hushed, but his eyes still gaze up at her, for a moment, with the lustre of life; then they grow dim and cold, and slowly the veil of death sinks down over his countenance. The lips that but now spoke the words, "I love you," are hushed forever!
Bowed down over him, her eyes axed intently on the features from which the last traces of life are vanishing, she sees the kiss that Death has imprinted on his lips; and the last smile slowly fade from his countenance.
And again she neither weeps nor laments; she only tears the veil from her head with a wild, despairing movement, and lays it over the countenance of her beloved dead.
"Sleep, Youssouf, sleep beneath my veil! You are dead, and my happiness dies with you--I shall be a living monument to your memory! I shall live in poverty and solitude, Youssouf, and the treasures which you buried for me beneath the earth shall remain there, a subterranean monument to my love. They shall never see the light of day! You have buried my treasures, and I will bury my greatest, holiest treasure--you, Youssouf Bey; and with you Sitta Nefysseh buries her youth, her love, and her grandeur, to be henceforth only a poor widow, who lives in solitary retirement, a prey to sorrow. Sleep, Youssouf Bey! You will awake with me above, to an eternal life--sleep, Youssouf!"
She lifts the veil once more, and kisses the forehead, now cold as marble; she then replaces it softly, and leaves the room.
CHAPTER XIV
COURSCHID PACHA.
A new viceroy is enthroned in Cairo, the viceroy Courschid Pacha, and it is again the old story of wars, want of money, and oppression of the people.
Courschid Pacha! What is he but a continuation of all the other viceroys, governors, and caimacans who have ruled in Cairo since Egypt has belonged to the Turkish empire? New taxes, new extortion, and new wars. For the Mameluke beys have assembled on the plain of Gheezeh and formed new plans, recruited their ranks with Arabians and Nubians, and prepared to take the field against the rulers in Cairo, and above all against their most hated enemy, the pacha Mohammed Ali.
Such was the dignity conferred upon Mohammed by Courschid Pacha, upon his entrance into Cairo, in the name of the grand sultan.
It is not to war against Courschid Pacha that the Mamelukes are assembling their forces. To destroy Mohammed Ali, the soldier-king, the real ruler in Cairo, is their aim; and, in order to accomplish this, they even humble themselves before the viceroy, who is already involved in a conflict with Mohammed. They seek to treat with him, and with the grand-admiral of the Turkish fleet, sent by the Sublime Porte to Alexandria to restore peace to the distracted country. To him, the grand-admiral, the Mameluke beys address a letter offering their services:
"The undersigned, knowing that your highness has come to Egypt to put an end to the