When the physician tells him that the rebels had stormed the
citadel, and that Cousrouf had fled, Mohammed shudders and sinks
back upon his couch. Truly, he is very ill! How could this
intelligence otherwise have so fearful an effect?
"Yes, Cousrouf has fled; he hoped for your assistance in vain, and
was compelled to yield when it did not come. Yes, sarechsme, he fled
secretly through the back gate of the citadel into the desert with
his faithful body-guard and his women."
"And Taber Pacha?" asks Mohammed, eagerly.
"Taber Pacha has proclaimed himself caimacan. On my way here I met
the cadi of the sheiks going to the citadel to present the robe of
fur to the caimacan, in token of their recognition."
Loud and derisive laughter resounds from Mohammed Ali's lips.
"Really the sarechsme is very ill, and in a fearful state of
excitement! His head may be affected by it. It may become
dangerous."
The physician prescribes cooling applications for his head, and goes
in person to superintend their preparation.
The door has hardly closed behind the physician, when Mohammed
bounds from his bed.
"Now I am no longer il! The time for action has come!"
He calls one of his Nubian slaves.
"Hasten, my Saneb--hasten to the camp of the Mameluke beys. You will
find them near Petresin, on the banks of the Nile. Seek Osman Bey
Bardissi, and say to him: 'The time has come; await, beside the
great Pyramid at Gheezeh, him with whom you conversed there two
weeks since; await him there with all his forces.
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