THE INSURRECTION.
From the citadel the thunder of the artillery and the fierce shouts
of the people still resounded. Mohammed heard the uproar throughout
the entire night. The soldiers continually pressed forward to
replace their comrades shot down by the murderous volleys from the
fortress.
Mohammed remained quietly in his house. True, his soldiers have
joined the rebels, but who can hold him responsible, and why should
he expose himself to the danger of being refused obedience should he
demand it of them?
Taher Pacha thinks differently. During the night he had examined the
books of the defterdar, held a prisoner in his house, and had been
compelled to admit that he was innocent, and had no money with which
to pay off the soldiers.
On the following morning he announced to his soldiers that the
defterdar was innocent, and the viceroy alone guilty. He had
accumulated and possessed money and treasure, and could pay the
soldiers if he would. He had, however, determined to keep for
himself all the money sent from Stamboul for the troops.
The intelligence rapidly spreads among the soldiers that Cousrouf
has money, and can pay if he will.
"And pay he shall!" cries Taher Pacha. "I will march with you into
his stronghold. Woe to him; he has begun this work of slaughter, and
must take the consequences!"
The gates are closed and barred. What care the soldiers, encouraged
by their general's approach, for that?" The walls can be scaled!" No
sooner said than done. Like cats, the first climb over the high
wall, and the rest follow. The guards within are overpowered, and
the gates are thrown open. And now all rush in intent on victory,
and, above all, on obtaining money.
The viceroy's khaznadar advances to meet them with a body of
soldiers. Taher Pacha calls on him to surrender. The coward obeys,
and lays down his arms. Cousrouf sits quietly in his apartment,
little dreaming of what has taken place.
"Let them fight on; in a short time these rebels and traitors will
yield, and sue for mercy. I will have their heads severed from their
bodies, and sent to Stamboul as trophies of victory!"
But what does this strange noise mean?
A volley resounds from beneath Cousrouf's windows.
A Nubian rushes into his apartment, and announces, in tones of
dismay: "You are betrayed, the khaznadar has surrendered, and the
rebels are storming the palace."
Cousrouf bounds from his seat, hurls from him his chibouque, and
quickly girds on his sword.
"We will hurl them back. Let Mohammed Ali come with his troops. He
will vanquish them and overthrow the traitor, Taher Pacha. Right
royally shall Mohammed Ali be rewarded if he comes to my assistance;
and come he will. He is at least no traitor, and will never make
common cause with rebels. You, my Nubians, my body-guard, my brave
followers, ascend to the battlement and turn the guns upon the
rebels who surround us."
They obey his command, and their guns are soon thundering down into
the ranks of the rebels.
Mohammed does not come to the viceroy's assistance; he is ill, and
has been confined to his room ever since Taher Pacha has been
besieging the citadel with his soldiers. Nor will his illness permit
him to leave the house now, and his servant announces to all comers
and to the soldiers that the sarechsme is very, very ill.
After two days have elapsed, he asks the physician, who is feeling
his pulse, in a weak voice and with an air of indifference, how
matters are progressing at the citadel; whether the traitor, Taher
Pacha, still presumes to besiege the viceroy in his palace, and
laments his inability to fly to his master's, assistance with his
troops. When the physician tells him that the rebels had stormed the
citadel, and that Cousrouf had fled, Mohammed shudders and sinks
back upon his couch. Truly, he is very ill! How could this
intelligence otherwise have so fearful an effect?
"Yes, Cousrouf has fled; he hoped for your assistance in vain, and
was compelled to yield when it did not come. Yes, sarechsme, he fled
secretly through the back gate of the citadel into the desert with
his faithful body-guard and his women."
"And Taber Pacha?" asks Mohammed, eagerly.
"Taber Pacha has proclaimed himself caimacan. On my way here I met
the cadi of the sheiks going to the citadel to present the robe of
fur to the caimacan, in token of their recognition."
Loud and derisive laughter resounds from Mohammed Ali's lips.
"Really the sarechsme is very ill, and in a fearful state of
excitement! His head may be affected by it. It may become
dangerous."
The physician prescribes cooling applications for his head, and goes
in person to superintend their preparation.
The door has hardly closed behind the physician, when Mohammed
bounds from his bed.
"Now I am no longer il! The time for action has come!"
He calls one of his Nubian slaves.
"Hasten, my Saneb--hasten to the camp of the Mameluke beys. You will
find them near Petresin, on the banks of the Nile. Seek Osman Bey
Bardissi, and say to him: 'The time has come; await, beside the
great Pyramid at Gheezeh, him with whom you conversed there two
weeks since; await him there with all his forces.' Have you
understood me? Repeat my words."
The Nubian repeated what he had said, word for word.
"And now hasten away, time is precious, and my message is
important."
Hardly had the Nubian departed, when messengers came to summon
Mohammed to the citadel, to Taher Pacha, the new caimacan. With a
profound bow, Mohammed replies that he will immediately do himself
the honor of waiting on the caimacan.
He calls his servants to his assistance, and puts on his gala
uniform, mounts his splendidly-caparisoned steed, and, followed by a
small body-guard of eight men, gallops through the streets to the
citadel.
Taher Pacha, reclining on Cousrouf s cushions and smoking his
chibouque, receives Mohammed with lively manifestations of delight.
"See what a man can make of himself, Mohammed? Here I lie, smoking
Cousrouf's chibouque on Cousrouf's cushions!"
"I congratulate you on your magnificence, and hope you may long
repose there."
"It is to be hoped that I shall," replied Taher Pacha. "Fortune
smiles on the daring. Had you been bold enough, you might now be in
my place, Mohammed Ali; but you probably shrank from incurring the
risk. I acted boldly, you perceive, and mine is now the viceroy's
crown. Why did you not grasp it? you needed but to stretch forth
your hand."
"And you did grasp it. Allah was gracious to you. I dared not; it
seemed too far from me. And then, I admit, my head is too small for
so heavy an ornament!"
"I feel strong enough to bear this burden," said Taher, laughing,
"and now that I have it, I shall also know how to secure myself in
its possession. All Cairo already recognizes me in my new dignity,
and your recognition is now alone wanting, Mohammed Ali."
"I bow in all humility before the caimacan, and shall also recognize
him as viceroy as soon as an answer is received from Stamboul."
Taher smiled graciously. "And now receive my first instructions,
sarechsme. Send messengers to the Mameluke beys, I desire to make
peace with them; I wish them to be my friends. We have had bloodshed
enough. United with the Mamelukes, we shall be able to defy our
Turkish enemies."
"I am of the same opinion," replied Mohammed, bowing profoundly.
"Then carry out my instructions at once."
"Your command shall be obeyed without delay," replied Mohammed, as
he turned and left the apartment.
"He does not know what he is doing. It would have been dangerous for
me to send a messenger to the Mamelukes. Now, in his assumed
authority, he empowers me to do what I have long since done in my
own interests. O Taher Pacha, you think yourself entitled to the
throne because you have scaled the walls of the citadel; you are,
however, grievously mistaken."
After three days the messenger reached the bardissi's camp, and
delivered Mohammed's message.
Osman Bardissi shouted with delight. "The sarechsme keeps his word,
and is about to unite with us. Come, ye Mamelukes, let us march to
Gheezeh to meet our ally."
On the third day of their march the Mamelukes reach their
destination, and encamp on the banks of the Nile, near Gheezeh.
Early on the following morning an officer in a glittering uniform
rides into the Mameluke camp, accompanied by a small body-guard.
Bardissi recognizes the officer and joyously greets him, and Sheik
Arnhyn, who rides at his side.
"There comes the brave sarechsme, Mohammed Ali; he keeps his word,
and comes to unite his forces with ours."
"A hearty welcome, Mohammed Ali; a hearty welcome from me, and from
all of us!"
"A warm greeting to you, Bardissi!" cried Mohammed, extending his
hand.
There they stood, hand-in-hand, gazing at each other thoughtfully
and earnestly. The others had respectfully withdrawn.
"We are both thinking of the past, Osman Bey," said Mohammed, with a
soft smile. "You see I have not forgotten the name you impressed on
my memory at Cavalla."
"Nor have I forgotten your name, Mohammed Ali," replied Bardissi.
"The boys who defied each other at Cavalla have become men, and
friends, too, have they not, Mohammed?"
"Yes, friends, too, I hope, Bardissi; and I press your hand in token
of my friendship."
"And I yours. I am your friend, and welcome you heartily to our
camp. But where are your forces? We have assembled here to meet
them; are they not coming?"
"They will soon come," replied Mohammed; "my army awaits my orders.
I have hastened here in the mean while to tell you that I am your
faithful friend and ally. Great events have taken place in Cairo,
and others are now impending. Wait a short time, and I shall
probably be able to bring you the troops of the new caimacan, Taher
Pacha, as well as my own. The caimacan wishes your friendship and
alliance, and sends me as his messenger. But, as I have already
said, I advise you to wait. The caimacan's rule is an overbearing
one, and strange events are about to take place in Cairo. I do not
wish to take part in them, and have therefore come here with a small
escort. My soldiers are encamped near Cairo, and await my orders to
march here. I came alone to prove that I trust you, and, with your
permission, will remain here with you a few days."
"That was nobly thought and nobly done, Mohammed; you honor us more
by coming alone than if you had come with all your forces," cried
Bardissi, as he embraced Mohammed.
"Now you are mine, Mohammed, and I love you with all my heart.
United with you, my hero, we can defy all the Turks that may be sent
over from Stamboul."
Mohammed was right; strange events soon occurred in the palace of
the caimacan at Cairo. The revolt which he had helped to excite had
not yet subsided. He had turned the wild herd loose, but was now
unable to manage it. The soldiers demanded their pay of the caimacan
as savagely as they had demanded it of Cousrouf.
But where was the necessary money to be obtained? Money was the
pretext on which he began the revolt, and now he finds himself
enthroned in the palace as caimacan with empty coffers, Cousrouf
having taken with him whatever treasure he possessed. He had invoked
curses upon himself by endeavoring to procure money by force and
extortion. What had become of the promises solemnly made to the
people by the caimacan on the first day of his rule?--
"Peace and quiet shall prevail in the land, and happiness be the
portion of the much-tormented inhabitants of Cairo."
Instead of peace, he has brought upon them new discord and revolt;
instead of happiness, new misery.
In order to appease the wrath of his soldiers, he caused a number of
the leading citizens to be arrested, and, upon their refusal to pay
the money demanded of them, several of them were stretched on the
rack, and others beheaded.
Finally, nothing remained to the new caimacan but to do as Cousrouf
had done, and meet the demands of his soldiers with the statement
that he had no money, and could not pay them.
The savage cry of the soldiery for pay was renewed in front of the
citadel day after day with increased fierceness, and at last the two
bim bashis, Moussa and Ismail Aga, were sent up to the citadel to
the caimacan to make a final appeal for pay on the part of the
soldiers.
He received them with a proud, gloomy look, asked why they came, and
how these rebellious soldiers dare approach him in such a manner.
They bowed their heads, and, as they approached the caimacan,
entreated him in humble tones to satisfy the just demands of the
soldiers. They conjured him to do so for the sake of peace, and for
his own sake. The soldiers were in a highly excited state, and
disposed to adopt extreme measures.
"To adopt extreme measures!" cried Taher "How dare you address such
words to me?"
"We have been sent to you by the troops, highness, and must act
according to our instructions. Once more, we implore you to pay the
soldiers!"
"And once more I repeat to you that I neither can nor will pay
them!" cried Taker, furiously. "If the traitors dare to threaten me,
I will lay their heads at their feet!"
"Then we had best begin with you!" cried the bim bashis, rushing
upon him, and running him through with their ataghans. They then
severed the head from the body, opened a window, and hurled it down
to the soldiers, who received it with shouts of delight, and then
rushed into the palace.
The caimacan's faithful Armenians threw themselves in their way, and
a murderous conflict arose on the stairway, and in all the halls and
apartments of the palace. The conflict extended to all the streets
of the city, and the work of slaughter was carried on all over
Cairo.
Taker Pacha is dead, murdered! The magnificence of the new caimacan
is at an end after a rule of scarcely twenty days. The intelligence
reaches Gheezeh, where the Mamelukes are encamped, and where the
sarechsme Mohammed Ali is sojourning. He smiles as he hears it.
"I told you to wait. But now I say, let us hasten to Cairo! Let
messengers be sent to my troops, instructing them to march out to
meet us, and the Armenians will, I think, also join us. The time has
come. Let us hasten to Cairo, ye Mameluke beys!"
The camp resounds with shouts of delight, and the Mameluke beys
mount their steeds, and place themselves at the head of their
followers to begin the march.
Mohammed Ali also mounts his horse, but, before he turns, glances
around, and sees the Bedouin sheik Arnhyn, who is about to mount his
dromedary, and calls him to his side.
"Well, Arnhyn, your dromedary is here, but I miss your daughter in
the palanquin!"
"She is at home in the tent awaiting my return, sarechsme!"
"In her father's tent, still?" said Mohammed, smiling. "She has not
yet followed to his tent him who has kissed her, and made her his
wife?"
"No, sarechsme, she is still in her father's tent, and there, she
says, she will remain. Many fine young men have wooed her, for she
has been made rich by the spoils her father gathered on the plain of
Damanhour. Yes, Arnhyn will give his daughter a rich dowry, and
there are wooers enough. But Butheita is a strange child! When a
handsome suitor comes, and I beg her to follow him to his tent, she
shakes her head, rejects his gifts, and laughs at his sweet words.
'You are ugly!' says she, laughing. 'I will love only the handsomest
of men, and him only will I follow to his tent.' That is what
Butheita says, sarechsme!"
"And that is what she should say," replied Mohammed, smiling. "Bear
a greeting to Butheita from me, when you return home, sheik, and
tell her she is right in waiting until he comes whom she will gladly
follow to his tent, and who may kiss her. Tell her to wait
patiently, for Allah will surely send her the man she can love.
Greet Butheita for me."
He mounts his horse, and gallops off to where the Mameluke beys are
awaiting him in order to begin their march to Cairo.
The Mameluke beys and Mohammed Ali enter Cairo in triumph. Taher
Pacha's Armenians have joined him, and, together with his Albanians,
they form a magnificent corps. The delighted people of Cairo cry out
to Mohammed: "Oh, give us peace, brave sarechsme! Let the day of
peace at last dawn over unhappy Cairo!"
Mohammed had conferred with the leaders of the Armenians, and, with
their consent, the citadel was tendered the Mameluke beys as a
residence. They joyfully accepted it, and proudly took up their
abode in the fortress.
Mohammed Ali, however, returned to his own house, and when he had
reached the retirement of his apartment, and no one could see, he
raised his arm threateningly in the direction of the citadel.
"You are in my residence, ye Mamelukes," muttered he. "You are now
the toasters of Cairo, but I swear that I will drive you out of my
palace, as I drove out the viceroy, Cousrouf Pacha. I am awaiting my
time. It has not yet come, but I now know that it will come!"