He then glided stealthily to the rear of his tent,
and, raising the canvas, slipped in. No one was in this apartment
where his couch lay, but in the first one he heard loud voices. His
officers were speaking of him. They were making anxious inquiries
and conjectures as to where the general might be, and were
considering whether they should make further search for him or break
up camp and return to Cairo. They were the voices of his bim bashis
and boulouk bashis. Smiling, he listened for a time to their
conversation. He then drew back the curtain and stepped into the
outer apartment. A joyous shout greeted his entrance. They eagerly
rushed forward, and anxiously inquired where he had been, the
meaning of his absence, and if any evil had befallen him.
He gazed at them haughtily.
"Am I, the general, to be called to account by you, my officers?"
They instantly ceased speaking, and saluted him with profound
obeisance.
"I know," continued he, in milder tones, "that sympathy for me
prompted your inquiries, and will therefore tell you where I have
been. I rode last night, entirely alone, to Damanhour, where I knew
Youssouf Bey lay with his men. I wished to learn if we could reach
them in time, and therefore rode with the wings of the wind. When I
reached their camp, the battle had already begun. It was too late to
march to Youssouf Bey's assistance.
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