"Your words come like music from your lips; such sweet
words I never heard before. You speak as the scha-er sings, whom I
once heard when with my father in Tantah. Oh, speak on, sing on, for
songs round from your lips!"
"If my words are songs, yours are tones of the harp," murmured he.
"Oh, tell me, Butheita, where are we going? Who has commanded you to
bear me away thus?"
"Did you not hear? I obey the commands of my father, who is in Osman
Bey's service. I do not know what they want of you, yet I believe
they fear you, and wish to keep you from taking part in the great
battle to-morrow. Yes, I know they fear you, for you are a hero.
Now, I know how a hero must look, for you are a hero, and your eyes
are as mighty as a host of armed warriors. Oh, now I understand why
Osman Bey fears you, and why he offered my father so rich a reward
to keep you from taking part in to-morrow's battle."
"That is it, that is then the reason I am led away captive," cried
Mohammed, not in threatening or lamenting tones, but joyously, for
he feels that Cousrouf has answered the question with which he had
vainly tormented himself; he had hesitated, now he feels that he has
advanced a step farther toward his aim. Now he knows what he has to
do; Fate has pointed out the road to his goal through Butheita, and
he feels that she will lead him on until he reaches the throne seen
by his mother in her dreams, and becomes the avenger of her he
loved, of his Masa.
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