Important words, of great and dangerous import, must they have been,
that fell slowly one after the other, like drops of blood from the
pacha's lips, for, from time to time, a deathly pallor overspread
Mohammed Ali's cheeks, and a slight shudder coursed through his
whole being. The pacha looked at him keenly, and said in a low
voice, "One can see that you are a novice."
"Yes, a novice," replied Mohammed, "but I shall soon become
accustomed to blood, and cease to recoil from dead bodies."
"Then you will achieve success in Egypt," said the pacha. "The air
here is freighted with the scent of corpses, and the sea and the
Nile have often been reddened with blood. We will see, boulouk
bashi, if the waves at our feet are not once more made red with
blood, and not with the rays of the setting sun. And now, boulouk
bashi, it will be shown whether you have understood what I have
said, and whether you are the man to execute my orders."
"I am your servant, excellency," replied Mohammed, quietly. "The
soldier has no will of his own. I am an instrument in your hands,
and I will faithfully carry out your orders."
"Then you will awaken to-morrow as bim bashi. And I believe that
will only be the first step toward the fame that awaits you. I like
you, boulouk bashi, and I wish you a brilliant career. And when you
shall have reached the summit of renown, then remember, boulouk
bashi, that it was I who gave you the key to the gates of honor.
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