But let us drop this subject. Duty calls me away. And let
me repeat this, Osman, whatever outcries you may hear, whatever
fearful noises may resound through your cabin, remain quietly here;
remain here in peace, my Osman. The pack will soon be let loose, and
your Mohammed, whom you call good, has been chosen by Fate to howl
with it, and make common cause with the bloodhounds. Do not speak,
Osman. Through blood must I march onward to my goal! There is no
other road. Farewell, and remain here."
He ascended hastily to the deck, called the soldiers together, spoke
to them for a long time in low, impressive tones, and issued his
orders. They listened attentively to his words, and then hastily
began to carry out his orders. They load their guns, try the locks,
and then repair to the port-holes on the lower deck, and hold
themselves in readiness to fire at the word of command.
There is to be a merry chase to-day. But after what game? Who has
seen it? No one knows as yet.
The boulouk bashi will give the signal, and when he says "Fire!"
they will fire, no matter at what or at whom. The command will be
given, and they will obey. It will be their first deed of arms,
their baptism of fire.
The hour has not yet come. Mohammed is standing on the deck above,
leaning against the mast, his arms crossed on his breast, looking
over toward the shores of Aboukir.
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