"
"Long live Mohammed Ali! Long live the generous sarechsme!" cried
one of the soldiers, and the cry was taken up and repeated by all
the rest.
"It is needless to go to the soldiers, for the sarechsme tells the
truth. Let us return to the defterdar; he must and shall pay us!"
The revolting soldiers surged on up the street. Mohammed, however,
returned to his solitary apartments with a clearer brow and a more
derisive smile on his lips:
"This was well done, and can tend only to my advantage. Taher Pacha
will not be much pleased, either, when his soldiers tell him of the
presents made by me to mine. The waves are surging higher and
higher, but I see the boat in which I am to ride over them safely.
The golden oars only are wanting, but I shall find them, too!"
He called the Nubian, and commanded him to tell his bim bashis he
desired to see them. And when they came he conversed with them for a
long time, and gave them his orders. The soldiers were to remain
quietly in their quarters, and not to mingle with the revolters.
"Wait quietly for three hours, and, if you receive no message from
me by that time, him bashis, you may allow the soldiers to go out
and satisfy their curiosity. Now go and wait until then."
The insurgents had again repaired to the house of the defterdar,
situated on the square of the Esbekieh.
For the second time they fiercely demanded money, and called for the
defterdar with such savage cries that he was compelled to show
himself.
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