THE REVOLT.
To have gained a week is to have gained a great deal.
Within this time the viceroy will succeed in replenishing his
coffers. His defterdar is very skillful in the art of getting money,
and who should understand the art if not the minister of finance? He
will find means to collect from the ulemas, from the rich sheiks,
and from the merchants, money enough to quiet his rebellious troops.
A week is a long period, and he will find means to satisfy them all.
But, after a few days, the terrible intelligence reaches Cousrouf
pacha: Taher Pacha is defeated; the stronghold Migne has been
captured by the Mameluke beys. Taher Pacha is defeated, and is
returning with his army-corps to Cairo!
"He shall not come, he must not come!" cried the viceroy, angrily.
"No, he must not come; as it is, we have rebellious soldiers enough
here now. They would unite with Taher's troops, and clamor for pay
again. And our coffers are empty. Send messengers to meet the
advancing troops, with instructions to General Taher to march with
his corps to Tantah, and there await further orders. In any case, I
forbid him to return here to Cairo. Is my capital to be made a camp?
Is it merely an immense barrack in which these insolent fellows are
to puff themselves up and do violence to all honest and respectable
people? It is enough to have to tolerate Mohammed Ali and his men
here. Taher Pacha shall not unite with them. Quick, dispatch the
messengers at once!"
The messengers, in accordance with the viceroy's instructions,
hastened forth in the direction from which Taher must come. But the
messengers did not meet him. He did not come by the expected route.
He had taken another--a secret messenger having come to him with
this warning:
"Hasten forward, Taher--you are to be kept at a distance from the
capitol! It is intended to withhold their pay from your soldiers!"
He did not know from whom this messenger came, but he believed him.
Resolved not to remain where a message from the viceroy could reach
him, Taher Pacha took another road, and, before another messenger
could reach him, Taher entered Cairo with his army. The uproar in
the streets, the shouting of the soldiers as they greeted their
friends, announced to the viceroy what had taken place. And in great
wrath he learned from the defterdar, who came running to the viceroy
in despair, that his fears were only too well founded.
Yes, it was as he expected. The soldiers had not gone to their
barracks; Taher had not come to seek repose in his house, but to
demand his and his soldiers' pay. "We are in rags, and starving; we
need shoes and clothes. Give us our pay, that we may satisfy our
hunger and clothe ourselves!"
"But how am I to pay them?" said the defterdar, addressing the
viceroy in anxious tones. "Our coffers are empty, and all resources
exhausted. I know not what to do or where to turn."
The viceroy sat gazing at him gloomily. Suddenly a thought seemed to
occur to him; his countenance brightened. "Mohammed Ali is shrewd
and fertile in resources. We must apply to him. He will help us out
of our difficulty. He is thoughtful, cool, and resolute. True, he
assumed a hostile attitude toward me a few days ago, but he must be
reconciled.
He must be prevented from uniting with Taher. The two united would
be a fearful combination against me."
He instructs the defterdar to go in person to Mohammed Ali to
request him to come to the viceroy. "We cannot pay the troops, but
we can find enough to pay the general's salary."
Cousrouf Pacha takes from his own private funds ten purses of gold-
pieces. He carries them himself to the apartment in which be intends
to receive the sarechsme.
In the mean while the minister of finance had, in accordance with
the viceroy's instructions, repaired with great haste to the palace
in which the sarechsme resided. A body of Albanian soldiers were
encamped about the palace. They called themselves the body-guard of
the sarechsme. The heart of the finance minister throbbed with
dismay when he beheld their daring, resolute faces.
"If this is the sarechsme's body-guard, then woe to the viceroy!"
said he to himself, as he ascended the stairway that led to the
general's apartment. With a trembling voice and humble demeanor, he
delivered the viceroy's message to the general.
"He begs you to come to him. He wishes to be reconciled to you; he
will himself hand you the arrearages of pay. But I entreat you, come
without your great suite--it might be wrongly interpreted. I mean
well with you; I am your friend. Do not come with your body-guard,
sarechsme."
"We two should understand each other better," replied Mohammed,
smiling derisively. "You tremble for me. I thank you, but see, I am
not trembling at all myself. He who pursues an honest course and is
faithful to his master and his service, has no occasion to tremble.
This you shall see, for I intend to go to the viceroy entirely
alone. Only my men shall at least know where I have gone, that is
all. Come!"
With a haughty smile, the defterdar following, he descended the
broad stairway of his palace, and cordially greeted the soldiers
standing about the gateway, who received him with shouts of joy.
"Be patient, my friends, I entreat you, be patient, and await my
return. I will return in an hour; wait here for me that long. Should
I not return by that time, seek me."
The defterdar, who hears every word of this, murmurs to himself: "It
will be necessary to acquaint his highness with this, that he may be
on his guard, and not detain the sarechsme in his fortress too long.
The consequences might be dangerous."
In humble terms he begs to be permitted to hasten in advance to
announce his coming to the viceroy. The sarechsme assents with a
gracious inclination of the head, and smiles benignantly on the
finance minister.
"We understand each other right well, my good defterdar. You are
right; go in advance, and announce me to the viceroy."
He waited a short time in the court-yard, conversing with the
soldiers who gathered around him to complain of their wrongs.
"I am going up to the citadel to the viceroy, in your interests.
Wait patiently for an entire hour," repeated Mohammed.
He then mounts his horse and rides up to the citadel. The defterdar
has hardly had time to convey the warning to the viceroy:
"Do not detain him here too long, highness. If he remains here
longer than an hour, his soldiers will come up here after him in
open revolt. Taher's troops have not gone to their barracks, and are
only awaiting the signal to join them."
Cousrouf nodded his assent, and muttered to himself: "I was wrong in
not treading this viper under foot in Cavalla; now it intends to
bite me--I feel it, it intends to bite me; but it shall not. I will
draw its fangs."
His Nubian slave now enters and announces to his master that the
sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, stands without, awaiting his pleasure.
Cousrouf's countenance quickly assumes a friendly expression.
"Leave me, defterdar, and await me in the next room. I shall not
detain the sarechsme long."
The defterdar withdrew, and the Nubian slave opened the door to
admit the general. With a military greeting, Mohammed Ali entered,
and advanced toward the viceroy, who, on this occasion, received him
standing, and not indolently reclining on his cushions, as was his
habit; he even stepped forward to meet him, extending his hand, and
saluting more cordially than usual.
"Sarechsme, when we last met, it was in anger. This I have deeply
regretted, for you know what I think of you."
"Yes, highness, I know what you think of me," replied Mohammed,
quietly.
The viceroy saw the derisive smile that played about his lips.
"I think well of you, Mohammed! I expect great things of you, and
know that you are the truest and most devoted of my servants."
Mohammed looked up at him with a strange, inquiring glance. "Of your
servants, highness? I did not know that I was one of them. I am
devoted to you, as the general of the viceroy's troops should be,
yet both of us are the servants of our master, the grand-sultan, at
Stamboul."
"You are right, both of us are servants, the grand-sultan is master
of us both; but I am his representative here, and it therefore
follows that the proud sarechsme need not blush when I call him my
faithful servant, as I stand for him in the place of the grand-
sultan. And it is because you recognize in me his representative,
and because you have sworn to serve him faithfully, that I have such
confidence in your devotion to me."
"Highness, I am faithful to my oath, faithful to the grand-sultan,
and faithful to you. I deeply regret that discord has arisen between
you and me, ever devoted to you as I am. But let us not speak of
this. I suppose you have called me on account of my troops. They
have long received no pay; they are without food, and their clothes
are in rags. They need and demand their pay. I, as their protector
and general, must insist on your compliance with their just demand."
"The week within which I promised to pay them has not yet elapsed,
four days still remain," said Cousrouf, suppressing his rage with
difficulty; "therefore wait for your soldiers' pay, but you,
Mohammed, you shall not wait. See how I honor and esteem you! There
lie ten purses of gold-pieces, that is your salary. I joyously give
it you out of my own private funds. Take your pay, my sarechsme!"
He pointed to a little marble table, on which the ten purses,
through whose meshes the gold-pieces glittered, were laid in a row.
"I accept them, highness. It is my salary, and I am justly entitled
to it. I accept them, and, though you only gave me my due, I
nevertheless thank you for having done so."
"And you are now reconciled, Mohammed Ali, and no longer angry?"
said Cousrouf, in flattering tones.
Mohammed bowed profoundly.
"How could I presume to be angry with your gracious highness? You
know my devotion to you, Cousrouf."
"Prove it! Give me your advice. You know the country, you know the
city; your eye is quick, and you observe much. I know Mohammed Ali
never walks indolently through the streets; his eye sees more than
other eyes, his ear hears more than other ears; he knows far more
than any of my servants. O Mohammed, if many of them were like you,
I need not be anxious and pass sleepless nights. But you, Mohammed,
are wise and shrewd, and have much experience and knowledge of the
world. Advise me, sarechsme, as to the means of raising money. I
myself, I confess, am at a loss to devise new means of replenishing
my empty coffers."
"I thank you for the high honor you do me," replied Mohammed.
"Advise you, the wise and experienced statesman! How flattering such
a privilege to me! Yet, unfortunately, I must confess that I know
not what to advise. But," he suddenly added, "one thing occurs to
me. You have taxed the merchants, you have taken money from the
ulemas, you have exacted it from the sheiks; but one thing you have
forgotten--to tax the women, highness!"
"The women!" said Cousrouf, recoiling a step. "How could I tax the
women? What women?"
"The wives of the Mameluke beys!" replied Mohammed. "You were
gracious enough, highness, to permit these ladies to remain here in
their palaces, in which they were accustomed to live like
princesses."
"I gave my word, Mohammed Ali, that the wives of the Mameluke beys
should remain here, and that they should not be molested. I gave my
word. I did it because I knew that the people would suffer if the
rich ladies, whose splendid house holds give employment and food to
so many people, should be banished from the city. I did it for this
reason, and must now keep my word."
"And they shall remain here unmolested, highness. Their liberty is
not to be curtailed, neither is any harm to be done to their
persons. But they must yield to necessity, and surrender some of
their treasure. Mourad Bey's widow alone is very rich."
"Rich and courted by all the world!" cried Cousrouf Pacha. "All
Cairo is devoted to her! She is honored like a saint almost."
"Because she is rich," replied Mohammed, quietly. "The rich are
always honored; the world falls down and worships them; but let them
become poor, and the world drags them into the dust, and thus
avenges itself for its former humiliation. Sitta Nefysseh, Mourad's
widow, is rich. Her apartments, I am told, glitter with golden
dishes and vases, gold and silver coins are piled up in closets, and
whole chests are filled with jewelry and precious stones of every
description, brought home by Mourad from his wars."
The viceroy's eyes sparkled.
"It would certainly be desirable to get possession of some of this
treasure, yet we cannot become robbers. If we could do so by lawful
means, it would be well. Tell me of some such means, Mohammed Ali."
"I know of no such means, highness," said Mohammed, shrugging his
shoulders. "I only know that Sitta Nefysseh, as it is said, has a
secret understanding with the beys, the comrades of her deceased
husband. As I understand it, you only promised the wives of the
Mamelukes permission to remain here, and protection under the
condition that they were to abstain from all intercourse with the
Mameluke beys. Yet it is known that Osman Bardissi and L'Elfi Bey,
the two Mameluke chieftains, were not long since in Cairo, and that
they paid the Sitta a visit. They both love her. They adore her, and
defy every danger in order to see her. Of this I am certain,
highness."
"If this is true," cried Cousrouf, "I have some pretext for calling
her to account."
"And true it is, I assure you," replied Mohammed. "I myself saw
Bardissi as he stepped out of the back gate of the park and mounted
his horse, and a short time before I saw L'Elfi. Perhaps they had
both come for money for the payment of their troops."
"I well know, myself," said Cousrouf, "that Mourad's widow is very
rich, and generous to her friends. I will see her this very day, and
this very day shall she be called to account."
"But by whom?" asked Mohammed, quickly. "The cadi and the sheik will
not answer; for they, like all Cairo, love Sitta Nefysseh."
"Then I will call her to account myself!" cried Cousrouf, in
resolute tones.
"But have you proofs of her guilt?" asked Mohammed. "Sitta Nefysseh
is wise, and knows how to defend herself. Therefore proofs, and not
the accusation only, are needed."
"I shall secure proofs! When we are determined to accuse any one,
proofs are never wanting. Else of what use were our clerks and
police? And now you may go, sarechsme. I thank you for your advice,
and will quickly proceed to raise money from the Sitta before she
suspects any thing. I thank you once more for your advice, Mohammed,
and I shall always remember that you are the shrewdest and most
faithful of all those who surround me--you perceive, I no longer
say, of my servants. Let me say, as I most gladly do, Mohammed Ali--
let me say, the most faithful of my friends! Does that please you?"
Mohammed replied with a profound bow only, and then silently
withdrew.
The hour had not yet passed, and his soldiers waited peaceably, as
he had commanded them. The Nubian slave of the viceroy followed his
horse, carrying the ten purses of gold-pieces. The general
dismounted at the door of the palace, and waited till the slave had
come up and taken the golden treasure into his house. Mohammed then
went to the grand hall and sent word down by a servant, that a
deputation of twenty-two of his men were to come up to him. The
sarechsme received them standing beside a table, on which lay the
ten purses of gold pieces. He greeted them cordially.
"I saw the viceroy in your behalf, and begged for your pay. I was
told that the week had not yet expired, and that you should wait.
The viceroy, however, my soldiers, paid me the salary due me. They
had forgotten to pay my salary ever since I have been in Egypt; it
has therefore now become a considerable sum. I have received ten
purses of gold, and I am really in need of this money to meet my
household expenses. But who knows when you will receive your pay? We
a11 share danger and want together, however; therefore let us share
the good things of this world together. Five purses I will keep for
myself, five purses belong to my soldiers. My housekeeper will go
down into the courtyard with you, and distribute the money among
you. I give it, not as your pay, but as a token of my friendship and
satisfaction."
"Long live our general!" shouted the men; and they rushed forward,
fell on their knees, and kissed his garments. He bade them rise,
called his housekeeper, and gave him the five purses. The latter
then went down with the soldiers to the courtyard. Mohammed followed
them with his eyes, his countenance lighted up with a peculiar smile
"Now they are mine! With the money I gave them, I have bought their
souls! Yes, they are mine! The seed I have sown is ripening. O
Cousrouf, only follow my advice! Insult the one woman who is above
all honored and esteemed in Cairo, the one before whom all bow in
reverence--insult her, that the harvest-day of my revenge may soon
come! But one thing still remains to be done: Sitta Nefysseh must be
warned."
He stealthily stepped out into the garden through the side gate.
Unseen by his soldiers he hastily crossed the park, and, opening a
small door in the high wall that surrounded it, stepped out into the
street.
It was silent and deserted. No one saw the cautious sarechsme,
closely enveloped in his mantle, wend his way hastily through the
narrow alleys to a little house that stood alone in the outskirts of
the city. He crossed the threshold without meeting any one. All was
still in the dark, narrow passage. He opened the door of the
chamber. On a mat sat an old woman, weaving woolen cloth.
"Are you the mother of Kachef Youssouf?" asked the sarechsme.
She turned around. "Yes, I am. You have not come to arrest my son?
He has not gone out to battle, he remains in Cairo, and is the
faithful servant of his gracious mistress, Sitta Nefysseh."
"That I know. I have not come on a hostile errand, but merely to
speak to him. Where is he?"
"Where he always is, master, with his gracious mistress. If you wish
it, I will call him; a door opens from this house into Sitta
Nefysseh's park, and I know where my son is to be found."
"Then call him quickly."
The old woman hastened away. In a short time she returned with her
son Youssouf.
"Do you know me?" asked Mohammed, advancing to meet him.
"Yes, who does not know the brave sarechsme, Mohammed Ali?"
"Do you love your mistress? " asked Mohammed
Youssouf looked at him with an expression of dismay and anxiety.
"I mean, you love her as it beseems every faithful servant to love
his mistress-you are ready to do her every service?"
"Yes, sarechsme, so do I love her," replied Youssouf, in low tones.
"Then listen! Come close to me--it is a secret. I tell you of it for
your mistress's sake; reward me by letting no one know who told
you."
"I swear that I will not, sarechsme!"
"Go to your mistress and tell her to have all her treasure, her gold
and silver plate, and all her other valuables, put in a safe place.
You probably have some such places in your cellars or vaults. It
must be done quickly. Say a dream has warned you or what you will,
but do not name me!"
He enveloped himself in his mantle, and hurried back to his palace,
in which all was now still. The soldiers had gone out to spend the
present given them by their general in joy and revelry. Mohammed was
again alone in his chamber. e walked to and fro, reflecting on all
he had done, with silent self-applause :
"It would have been unfortunate had he found Sitta Nefysseh's
treasure. It would help him out of his difficulties. That would
never do. You are falling, Cousrouf! and it is I who am hurling you
down! Your peril increases with every hour! You have only to insult
Sitta Nefysseh, and all Cairo will rise up in arms against you. Let
that be your last deed! Then, Cousrouf, when you have fallen, you
shall know who has destroyed you!--Masa, sleep quietly in your cold
grave! You are being avenged!"