Osman
Bey had promised to show his horsemanship to-day; and it was a
beautiful spectacle to see him coursing along on his splendidly-
caparisoned black charger, his sword uplifted in his hand. His eyes
sparkled even more lustrously than the gems in the agraffe of the
crescent on the sultan's turban. In the sash that encircled his
waist glittered a pair of pistols and the jewelled hilt of a dagger,
and whoever beheld Osman Bey said to himself:" This is a man! a hero
who recoils from nothing!" Lightly bounding, his nostrils expanded,
his eyes glowing, he now rode his steed around the wide circle of
Mamelukes and Turks. With uplifted sword he then approached the
horse that stood tied to a stake in the middle of the circle.
Trembling, and neighing anxiously, it saw the hero bearing down upon
it at a full gallop; then Osman's sword glittered in the air, and
the horse's head fell to the ground, severed from the body by a
single blow. Loud and exulting shouts rewarded the bold rider for
this proof of his wonderful skill and strength, and Osman bowed
smilingly to the right and to the left, and then again drew in his
reins, and made his steed bound as lightly and coquettishly as
though it had learned its arts from the bayaderes.
Yes, Osman Bey is a great hero, and they all regard him with
astonishment, the Mamelukes with joyous smiles, the Turks with
serious countenances.
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