He followed her with his eyes, however, and saw
how her long flowing garment adjusted itself to her lovely figure,
and how her white veil fluttered about her noble head, enveloping it
as with a delicate white cloud.
"Would that I were the wind that kisses your cheek!" murmured he,
lost in contemplation of his idol. "Would I were the sand your foot
blesses with its touch! To die near you, beholding you in death,
were heavenly bliss."
Sitta Nefysseh had disappeared behind the clump of bushes. Kachef
Youssouf still stood before the kiosk. He listened. The music had
ceased. He knew that his mistress was returning with her women to
the house. He hastily glanced around the garden, fastening his
large, black eyes, on every bush, as if expecting to find an enemy
concealed there. No one is to be seen. Only Heaven and the bees in
the air see Youssouf as he rushes into the kiosk, picks up the rose,
presses it passionately to his lips, and then conceals it in his
bosom.
CHAPTER XI
THE COUNCIL OF WAR.
From the day of their first meeting, when Cousrouf Pacha appointed
Mohammed Ali sarechsme, the new general had proved his bravery and
his shrewdness in many a skirmish and battle with the Mamelukes. He
had already captured from them two strongholds, and had returned
victorious from every battle with them. Cousrouf praised his fortune
at having such a general at his side.
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