It seemed to him that a
sigh escaped her breast.
"No," said she, in a low voice.
"No?" shrieked, rather than cried, Youssouf. "I may not return!"
"You may not return, Kachef Youssouf. I have long recognized that it
ill became a young man to pass his days here in ease and quiet,
while his friends, his brothers, are confronting the enemy on the
battlefield. You said it would disgrace Youssouf if he left his
mistress in danger; but it seems to me that the disgrace is much
greater when a youth, born perhaps to become a hero, spends his days
in inglorious ease, reclining on soft cushions. Consider that Mourad
Bey never laid aside his sword. Remember that, when the trumpet
sounded, he was ever the first to the field. He would have
considered him his enemy who should have said to him: 'Remain at
home, and repose on your cushions while your brethren are facing
death for the fatherland!' I think you should endeavor to follow his
example. You must follow his example! Kachef Youssouf, I will tell
you what is written in the letter you are to take to Osman Bey. I
announce to him that I send the truest and bravest of all kachefs,
and I beg him to take you to battle with him. I announce to him that
I give him for the fatherland, and the most faithful friend I have,
and beg him to place you at the starting-point, from which you are
to run your race as a hero.
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