This was, however, refused him,
and he was at last compelled to yield, and give up the citadel.
Through the little side-gate that leads down to the Nile, Courschid,
accompanied by a few faithful followers, left the citadel, and was
conveyed in boats, that lay in readiness, down the river to Boulak.
From there, after a brief sojourn, he continued his journey to
Alexandria, and then on to Stamboul.
While Courschid is descending the secret stairway to leave the
citadel, Mohammed All and his warriors are ascending the hill in
triumph, marching to the strains of stirring military music. The
garrison of the fortress lay down their arms, and all cry,
exultingly: "Long live Mohammed Ali, our new viceroy!" He still
hears it as he enters the grand apartment where Courschid has been
in the habit of receiving him. He still hears it as he steps out
upon the wall of the fortress, and looks down upon the wondrous
city, at the Nile, at the palm-trees on the green shore beyond, and
at the yellow desert, on whose verge the pyramids tower aloft.
"Long live our new viceroy, Mohammed Ali!"
This cry resounds from a thousand voices, and Mohammed gazes out
upon the beautiful, heavenly world that is now his own, and an
ecstasy that almost makes his heart stand still, possesses his soul.
"Long live the Viceroy of Egypt!"
"I have reached my goal. I am the viceroy.
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