Mourad's widow, and those who
accompanied her, entered this tent.
He lay on the divan, smoking his chibouque. But upon her appearance
at the entrance to the tent, he sprang to his feet.
"You here, Sitta-you in the camp at Aboukir?"
"I have come to speak with you," she replied, earnestly.--"Let the
rest leave the tent. Mourad's widow can be alone with the man whom
her deceased husband called his dear friend."
He waved his hand imperiously, and all the servants with drew from
the tent, closing the gold-embroidered curtains behind them.
"Speak!" said the bey, in deferential tones. "Your servant hears,
and is ready to obey your commands."
"I have not come to command," replied she; "I have come to warn you,
Osman."
"To warn me, Sitta?"
"Yes, Osman. You have allowed yourselves to be deceived by the
flattering words of those who call themselves your friends, but can
never be other than your enemies. Do you suppose that the sultan
will ever give you, his hated enemies--you, the haughty Mameluke
beys-your rights and your freedom? I, who gazed in my dying Mourad's
eyes and read his last thoughts, I say to you, that the sultan will
not rest until death has closed your lips forever, or until you have
closed his! I tell you they are planning your destruction. Do not
ask from what source my information comes. The wise man will listen
and take the advice of the woman who was his friend's wife.
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