HASSAN OR THE CHILD OF THE PYRAMID (continued 7)

“Bring me a pipe,” said Ali Bey, suddenly turning to Murad and speaking in a loud stern voice. Murad never stirred, but stared in the Colonel’s face and opened his little tin box.

“Jaffier spoke the truth,” muttered the Colonel 409half aloud. “I thought he would not dare to deceive me; the imp is as deaf as a stone.” They then continued to drink their cans of arrack, which Murad refilled for them, while they spoke without reserve of the plans which they had met to arrange, and which were neither more nor less than to seize or kill Mohammed Ali and overthrow his Government.

“Are you sure of your Bashi-Bazouks, Ali?” inquired Osman Bey.

“Never fear them,” replied Ali; “the dogs are as savage as bears. We have drawn their pay from the Treasury, but we have not given them a para of it for some months, and have told them that Mohammed Ali refuses to pay them and threatens to bastinado any of them that demand their pay. They are all on guard at the Esbekiah Palace, and if he falls into their clutches he will not give us much more trouble. The difficulty is how to bring him there, for the guards at Shoobra are obstinate fellows, and would fight like devils!”

“I will manage that matter,” said Osman Bey. “Those Shoobra guards are from Delì Pasha’s regiment. I will go there to-morrow morning and ask an audience of Mohammed Ali, and will easily persuade him that those guards are not to be trusted, for that Delì Pasha wants to marry his daughter to that outlawed robber Hassan, who is now in Cairo, and as they have not been able to obtain his pardon, they are conspiring 410against the Viceroy and tampering with the guards, who are of Delì Pasha’s own regiment. Mohammed Ali will assuredly believe there is some truth in this statement, and will agree to my proposal of coming in at once to his palace at the Esbekiah.”

“Have you succeeded yet in introducing the brother of your man Ferraj into the household at Shoobra?” inquired another of the conspirators.

“Yes,” replied Osman Bey. “Hadji Mohammed is employed in the house, and tells me all that goes on. If our other plans fail, that scoundrel can do the job for us with a cup of coffee; and he must do my bidding, for he knows that a word of mine can send him when I will to the gellad [executioner] or the galleys.”

“How are your fellows, Nour-ed-din?” said Ali, the Colonel, addressing one of the conspirators. “Can we count upon them?”

“I am not sure,” replied the officer thus interrogated. “I have kept back their pay too, and have thrown out a few phrases to stir their discontent. They grumble enough, and if our first blow succeeds they will doubtless join us; but they are much afraid of Ibrahim Pasha. How is he affected in this matter?”

“We must not tell it him beforehand,” replied Osman Bey; “for with all his cruelty he is a craven at heart and might betray us, not from the love but the fear that he has for Mohammed Ali. Let us put the Old Lion out of the way, 411and I will answer for managing Ibrahim afterwards. He will not be very angry, depend upon it.”

They then exchanged a few more sentences to regulate their proceedings for the following day, of which Murad only caught the words, “You all meet at my house at noon.” This was spoken by Ali Bey, who as he rose up to go away almost stumbled over the prostrate form of Murad, who had rolled himself in his old torn cloak and lay on the floor feigning sleep, but listening with eager anxiety to the dangerous secrets of which he had accidentally been made the partaker.

“What is this son of a dog doing here?” said Ali Bey, pointing with his foot to the recumbent form of Murad.

“It is only the deaf and dumb child,” replied one of the others contemptuously.

“Supposing he should prove to be neither deaf nor dumb, nor asleep?” said the suspicious Arnàout.

“I will just give him six inches of my dagger in the ribs, and then I shall be sure that he is deaf and dumb.” So saying, he drew his dagger, and held over the boy’s face a half-expiring lamp that he snatched from the table. A start, a tremor, the slightest indication of consciousness, would have been Murad’s instant death-warrant; but the brave little boy bore the severe ordeal. Not a muscle nor a quickened respiration betokened aught but the quiet slumber of youth.

412“Pish!” said the rough savage, “his sleep is fast enough, whether he be deaf or not. Inshallah! before long my dagger will drink better blood than his.” So saying, he strode out of the café, followed by the other conspirators, who separated and went to their several homes.

For nearly an hour after they were gone Murad remained motionless collecting his scattered thoughts, which, unaccustomed as they were to dwell on conspiracies or political revolutions, seemed oppressed and overwhelmed by the terrible secret which he bore about him.

No sooner, however, did he recover from the terror which he had endured from the Arnàout’s dagger than he resolved at once to hasten to Hassan and tell him everything. This he did before dawn, as we have above mentioned; and our hero, having heard his tale, and made him repeat certain portions of it so as to feel assured of the accuracy of his memory, told Murad to remain in his room till he returned.

Having armed himself with a brace of pocket-pistols and a short dagger, which he concealed within his vest, he mounted his horse, and, accompanied by Abou-Hamedi, rode out towards the desert by the Gate of Victory. After skirting the desert for a couple of miles he turned to the left, through some cultivated fields and olive-plantations, until he found himself at the gates of the Shoobra garden. His only fear was that he 413might be denied access to the Viceroy; but he had made up his mind to demand it through his old acquaintance the medical interpreter.

Assuming, therefore, an authoritative air, he said to the gatekeeper in Turkish, “I wish to see the Hakim-Bashi, and my business with him is urgent.”

The man, influenced by Hassan’s commanding figure and the use of the Turkish language, immediately led the way to a small pavilion occupied by the hakim, and adjoining the private apartments of the Viceroy.

When Hassan entered he found the Doctor sitting in a comfortable dressing-gown drinking his cup of coffee and looking over the last Italian journal. When he saw our hero, and received his salutation, he seemed sorely perplexed, for a year and a half of hardship and exposure had changed the youth into a powerful man; yet the frank, open countenance, not easily forgotten, was there unchanged, and it was not necessary for him to name himself, for the hakim broke out suddenly, “Cospetto di Bacco! it is Hassan himself. Why, man, I am glad to see you—no, I am not; I am sorry to see you, for you must be mad. You know that you are under arrest and forbidden to leave your father’s house—the Viceroy will never forgive disobedience to his orders.”

“Excellency,” said Hassan gravely, “I have come upon a matter of life and death, and I must see 414the Viceroy immediately and alone. It is not my life or death that is at stake, but one of greater value to me, to you, and to Egypt.”

“Per Bacco!” said the hakim, “your forehead looks like a thunder-cloud, and you speak like a man who is in earnest. You wish to see the Viceroy immediately and alone, you say?”

“Immediately,” repeated Hassan impatiently; “and alone.”

“But,” replied the cautious physician, “Mohammed Ali is a fearless man—the world knows it; but would it be usual, would it be right, that he should be left alone with——” Here the worthy physician hesitated as he cast his eyes upon the powerful figure before him.

“With a freebooter and outlaw, you would say,” interposed Hassan, with one of his frank smiles. “But I am not an assassin. I only said alone because I know not who of all his Highness’s attendants are trustworthy! However, I suppose you are, and therefore if the Viceroy pleases, you may be present, and you may hold a loaded pistol at my ear all the time that I am in his Highness’s presence.”

“I ask your pardon,” said the Italian hakim, offering his hand. “I did not mean to offend or to hint at your being an assassin; but you know what mischievous tongues wag in these Turkish serais, and how I should be blamed were I not cautious in all that regarded the safety of my chief. 415Now help yourself to a cup of coffee, and I will do your commission at once.” So saying, the hakim disappeared through a side-door that communicated directly with the Viceroy’s apartment. In five minutes he reappeared, and making a sign to Hassan to follow, led him to a small room where Mohammed Ali was seated in the corner on a divan covered with rich crimson damask.

“You have broken your arrest,” said Mohammed Ali, fixing his piercing eyes on Hassan as he entered; “I trust you have sufficient reason for your disobedience.”

“Your Highness shall judge,” replied Hassan, “when you have heard what I have to tell. I knew that I had already given you such serious ground of offence that I would not for a light cause have added another to the list.”

“Wallah! it is true that you have committed enough already in pillaging my villages and my people,” said Mohammed Ali sternly; “let that pass for the present, and say what you have to say before the Hakim-Bashi.”

Hassan proceeded to give a clear and distinct account of the conspiracy as communicated to him by Murad. The expressive features of Mohammed Ali underwent various changes during the narration, and his fingers more than once clutched the handle of the sword that lay across his knee when Hassan mentioned the names of the conspirators.

416As soon as Hassan had concluded his narrative, Mohammed Ali, bending his shaggy brows on the speaker, said, “By the head of my father, if this tale be true, I will defile the graves of the fathers and mothers of these ungrateful dogs. But how can I feel assured that the whole is not an invention of this crazy, mutilated child?”

“I believe it is all true,” said Hassan with simple earnestness, “for the boy, though dumb, is faithful and intelligent. I am sure he would not deceive me, neither has he knowledge sufficient to refer to all these names and plots if he had not heard them as he states. Moreover, it is easy for your Highness to ascertain some points which may satisfy you as to the truth of the whole.”

“Which points?” said the Viceroy hastily.

“First,” replied Hassan, “is it true that a man called Hadji Mohammed, the brother of Osman Bey’s servant, Ferraj, has lately entered your Highness’s service?”

“That is true,” interrupted the hakim; “for I have seen the fellow, and an ill-looking dog he is.”

“Secondly,” continued Hassan, “if the boy’s story be correct, Osman Bey will visit your Highness within an hour or two, and recommend you to leave Shoobra and go into your palace of the Esbekiah, where Ali Bey’s Bashi-Bazouks are on guard.”

“That is true,” replied the Viceroy; “a few 417hours will remove all doubt. Hakim-Bashi, you remember that only a day or two ago the Kiahia wrote a note to say that some strange rumours were afloat as to these Bashi-Bazouks and another regiment being almost in mutiny from not having received their pay.”

“It is so,” replied the hakim, “and I went to the pay-office, by your Highness’s order, and got Ali Bey’s receipt for the whole amount due to them duly sealed and certified. I have it here,” and he produced the paper in question.

“These hornets must be crushed, and there is no time to be lost,” said the Viceroy in a musing tone; then suddenly bending his shaggy eyebrows on Hassan, he added, “Young man, you have done your duty in bringing us this news, bad though it be. What is the course which it is now best to pursue?—speak your mind.”

“Nay, your Highness,” said Hassan modestly; “if my arm or my life can be of use, they are at your service, but I am too young and inexperienced to offer an opinion in the presence of the best soldier in Islam.”

“Nevertheless,” replied the Viceroy, a certain malicious fun twinkling in the corner of his keen grey eye, “I would have your opinion, even though I should not choose to follow it. If all be true that I have heard, you have shown more skill in eluding or defeating my troops with your lawless band of vagabonds than could have been 418expected from so young a beard. I would see whether your wit be as sharp, now that you profess a desire to serve me. Speak, therefore, and without fear or reserve.”

After a few moments of reflection Hassan replied, “Were I to speak as my own impulse would prompt, I should say to your Highness, Summon to your side the Pashas, Beys, and regiments in whom you can trust, place me in the foremost rank, and let us straightway attack, bind, or destroy these conspirators.”

Mohammed Ali read in his bright, eager glance and bold, open front the sincerity which dictated these words. Hassan continued, “But I know that your Highness would gladly avoid, if possible, the bloodshed of your subjects, and the punishing the ignorant and the misled in the same degree as the scoundrels who have misled them. I therefore suggest that we meet stratagem with stratagem, and when Osman Bey comes, let your Highness pretend to be persuaded by his arguments, and agree to go into the Esbekiah Palace to-morrow. This will throw them off their guard, and all the conspirators will be gathered at Ali Bey’s house. Meanwhile I have a trusty follower here, little known in Cairo, for whose fidelity I will answer with my life: let him go forthwith to the Kiahia with a few lines, written by your Highness’s order, instructing him to send a regiment that he can trust, and two or three hundred horsemen silently 419and secretly to the Esbekiah before dawn to-morrow; let two or three guns be placed there, pointed at Ali Bey’s house and your Highness’s palace; let Delì Pasha take five hundred men from this regiment at Shoobra and march it at the same hour and in silence to occupy the gardens behind Ali Pasha’s house and the road to Boulak; let the guards in the citadel be doubled at night, and the regiment of Dervish Bey, now encamped outside of the town, be brought in to keep in check that of Nour-ed-din, which is supposed to be in a state of mutiny. My follower shall then pass the night among them, and when they know that they have been cheated of their pay by their own officers, they will not raise a musket against your Highness. The most difficult task is to manage these Bashi-Bazouks, but I am not without hopes of reclaiming them without bloodshed. Let your Highness give me that receipt of Ali Bey’s for their money, and let me hide it under my belt; order me now to be seized and taken by your soldiers into the guard-house of the Esbekiah Palace, where you intend to have me tried and judged to-morrow. As soon as it is known that Hassan the outlaw is confined there, they will flock in numbers to see me; I will talk with them; I will show them the receipt, and explain to them how they have been cheated and duped by Ali Bey. Inshallah! at dawn to-morrow, when the troops close in on all sides to surround the 420Bey’s house and take prisoner himself and his confederates, I will have these Bashi-Bazouks’ minds so changed that instead of fighting against your troops they will cry ‘Long life to Mohammed Ali!’”

While Hassan was speaking the Viceroy never took his piercing eyes off the young man’s countenance, and when he had concluded he said—

“Hassan, you have not disappointed me: your plan is good, and I will have it followed out. But I do not like to send you in among those mutinous Bashi-Bazouks; they are bloodthirsty fellows, and if they find from your speech that you are exhorting them in my behalf to return to their duty, they will tear you to pieces.”

“Fear not for me, your Highness,” replied Hassan calmly. “In dealing with and leading turbulent spirits like these I have had much, too much, experience; let me try it once more in a good cause, and if my life is sacrificed, why, Allah is merciful, and your Highness will perhaps tell Delì Pasha and Dervish Bey that Hassan was not unworthy of your trust.”

A bright gleam shot from the eyes of Mohammed Ali as he replied—

“You are a brave youth, Hassan, and all shall be done as you desire. Go in with the hakim to his room, prepare the letters, and despatch your messenger. Allah be with you.”

Hassan retired, and in a short time Abou-Hamedi 421was despatched with the letters and full verbal instructions. An hour later our hero was arrested and sent into the Esbekiah Palace under a strong guard, and the news was spread all over Cairo that Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm was to be tried and judged on the following day.

Hassan had not left the Shoobra gardens more than an hour when Osman Bey arrived and demanded an audience, which was immediately granted, the Hakim-Bashi remaining in attendance on his chief.

After the usual preliminaries of respect and compliment, Osman Bey proceeded to unfold the object of his coming, which proved to coincide exactly with what had been stated by Hassan. The Viceroy listened in silence, and although Osman Bey could not avoid noticing the fire that gleamed in those deep grey eyes, he attributed it to the anger felt by Mohammed Ali against those whose treacherous designs he had pretended to expose.

“We thank you as you deserve for your communication,” said the Viceroy, “and we will take all the requisite precautions. To-morrow, as you recommend, we will go to the palace of Esbekiah.”

“May your Highness’s life be prolonged,” replied Osman Bey. “I rejoice to find that you have seized that dangerous robber Hassan. I met him on the road under the escort of your Highness’s guards.”

422“Yes,” said the old chief. “Inshallah! to-morrow you shall see him treated as he deserves—you shall see that Mohammed Ali knows how to punish traitors.”

“Inshallah!” replied Osman Bey, taking his leave with a salutation of profound respect.

Scarcely was he out of sight ere Mohammed Ali muttered between his hard-set teeth, “Dog! hyena! serpent! Inshallah! to-morrow he shall see and feel how traitors are punished! Hakim-Bashi, you are a learned man, and read many books: I never read anything but men’s faces, and, Mashallah! I rarely read them amiss. I have long had my eye mistrustfully on this scoundrel: look from his false and malignant countenance to the open face and clear bold eye of Hassan; why, man, there is truth written there as plainly as in the Fat’hah.^[113] I have been somewhat slow in forgiving him because he has a daring spirit that requires to be checked, and example requires that acts such as he has committed should be punished; but if he survives and succeeds to-morrow, by the head of my father, I will reward and promote him!”

“I am glad to hear your Highness say so,” said the good-natured hakim, “for I liked him from 423the first day that I saw him; and his Bedouin education, added to the insults received from that hypocritical traitor, offer some excuse for the lawless life that he led for a while.”

“Wait till to-morrow. Bakkalum, we shall see,” said the Old Lion, smiling grimly. “Now send me Abd-el-Kerim, who commands the regiment on duty here. He, I know, is faithful, and I will give him orders for his night march on the gardens to the rear of Ali Bey’s house, as Hassan suggested. Mashallah!” he continued, “did you notice how clear and complete were his plans to entrap and secure the scoundrels, after saying that he was too young to offer an opinion. Wallah! if ever I am obliged to send my troops there, that Hassan shall command a division.”

“Send your troops where, your Highness?” said the hakim inquiringly.

“Peace, man,” said Mohammed Ali, recovering from a momentary fit of abstraction. “I was thinking of—of—of—perhaps of Darfour and Abyssinia.” A scarcely perceptible smile lingered on the lips of the medical interpreter, who had for some time suspected the ambitious views of his chief on Syria and Asia Minor, but he made his salam in silence and withdrew.

Meantime, while Abou-Hamedi was faithfully delivering the letters and messages intrusted to him, Hassan was no less diligent in the execution of the difficult task which he had undertaken. 424After being ushered into the precincts allotted to the Bashi-Bazouk guard, which included all the extensive area in front of the palace itself, Hassan remained for a considerable time apart, as if undesirous of communicating with them. His object was that they should come to him; nor was he long in attaining it.

Struck by his commanding figure and features, some of the loiterers about the door inquired his name of the guards who had brought him, and when they learnt that it was Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm, of whom they had heard so much, all flocked around him to scan more closely the appearance of the celebrated outlaw. Neither had he much to fear from their hostility, for being themselves engaged in a mutinous rising against the Government, they looked upon him as a sure ally during the outbreak expected on the morrow.

The intelligence of his capture and presence among them soon reached the farthest part of the barracks, and it happened that seven or eight were there who had formed a part of the band which, under Osman Aga’s guidance, had made so unsuccessful an attack on Hassan near Siout, and whom, it will be remembered, our hero had dismissed unhurt, after giving them some dinner and some money, and telling them it was a pity to see such fine fellows in so mean a service.

These men no sooner heard of his presence in 425their barracks than they hastened to greet him, calling out as they approached—

“Welcome, Hassan eed-el-maftouha, do you not remember us? We were of the party whom you treated so well when we were in your power, and when you sent back Osman Bey to Siout on a donkey.”

“I believe, comrades,” he replied, “that on that day I maltreated none excepting Osman Bey, and he had deserved it at my hands.”

“He was a brute,” said the first speaker, lowering his voice; “but Ali Bey, our present chief, is better: he always takes our part against those who rob and injure us.”

“Who are they who rob and injure you?” inquired Hassan.

“Why, Mohammed Ali, to be sure, and his rascally Paymaster-General.”

“I had always heard,” said Hassan, “that Mohammed Ali paid his brave Bashi-Bazouks regularly.”

“He used to do so,” said the fellow sulkily; “but for eighteen months we have not had a piastre of pay. See, our clothes are all in rags, and we have nothing wherewith to buy a pound of tobacco or a little rice water.^[114] Ali Bey and Osman Bey have petitioned and laboured for us in vain. But we will have our rights. Inshallah! we shall see something to-morrow.”

426“Yes, our rights and our pay, or else blood and plunder!” said half-a-dozen rough voices around.

It is unnecessary to detail all that passed between Hassan and the mutineers; suffice it to say that he completely gained their confidence, and occupied himself during the remainder of the day in ascertaining the character and views of those who seemed the more influential among them.

It was not his purpose to attempt putting in execution the plan that he had formed until nightfall, when the gates would be shut and none could go out to give notice of his proceedings to Ali Bey, whose house was only separated from the palace by a walled garden. No sooner had that hour arrived than Hassan desired those whose confidence he had gained, including the men from Siout, to call together all the regiment in front of the guard-house, as he had something of importance to communicate to them, and guards on whom they could depend were placed at the front and postern gates to prevent the ingress or egress of any one unchallenged.

As soon as they were all assembled he said in a clear and sonorous voice, that was heard by the farthest of that rough and turbulent band—

“Comrades! some of you have known me personally, and most of you have heard of Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm: did you ever hear of him that he aided the tyrant to trample on the oppressed, or the rich to plunder the poor?”

427“Never!” shouted a score of voices.

“Did you ever hear,” he continued, “that he was sparing of his blood or his money, or that he ever betrayed a comrade?”

“Never!” shouted they again.

“Then, by Allah!” said Hassan, “he never will. He is here among you now alone. You may take his life to-night, or the Government may take it to-morrow; but so long as he has an arm to strike, it shall strike at the false and the oppressor in defence of the oppressed!”

“Hassan for ever!” shouted they again; “he is the man for us! Let us see the Government come to take his life to-morrow!”

“Then,” said he, raising his voice above the tumult, “if you believe me and trust me as you say, let me tell you that you have been falsely betrayed!”

“We know it!” they cried. “We have been betrayed; we have been robbed of our pay, and we will have it now, and plunder to boot!”

“You have been robbed and betrayed,” said Hassan in a deep, stern voice; “but you know not the robbers nor the traitors who have injured you. I now denounce them to your just anger—they are Osman Bey, Ali Bey, and your own officers! who have drawn your pay and have spent or locked it up themselves, in order to lead you to mutiny and to destruction!”

It is impossible to describe the confusion that 428prevailed in that lawless assemblage at the conclusion of this speech. Some shouted, “It is false!” others cried, “Kill him; he is a spy of Mohammed Ali!”

Pistols were drawn, daggers gleamed in the fitful torchlight; many cried, “Down with Ali Bey and the traitors!” but still the more numerous and moderate party in the regiment called aloud, “Proof! proof! we must have proof!”

“Proof you shall have, if you will be silent and patient like men, and not scream like the bakkal’s wives before the câdi.”^[115]

Silence having been restored, Hassan called aloud, “Bring hither those torches, and come to my side any of you who can read!” Half-a-dozen approached in answer to this appeal.

“This is not enough,” said Hassan; “where is the yuzbashi^[116] who commands the guard? Let him also come forward.” That functionary had hitherto remained a distant spectator of the scene; but he was now urged forward by some of his own men to the spot where Hassan stood, who 429shouted as they advanced, “Proof! proof! we want proof!”

“Are you one of those,” said Hassan, fixing a stern and penetrating look on the yuzbashi, “who have taken a share of these brave men’s pay, and withheld it in order to induce them to revolt?”

“I?” said the astonished yuzbashi. “No, Wallah! No pay have I seen myself for a year. See the holes in my shoes, and these ragged clothes; do these look like robbing the pay of my men? By the beard of my father, it is the Government who have robbed me and them of our due! But who, in the name of the Prophet, are you who are haranguing my men, and questioning me as if you were a miralai [general]?”

“I applaud your spirit,” replied Hassan frankly. “My name is Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm, my voice has no authority excepting that of truth, and I have no motive but to prove to these brave men who they are who have wronged and betrayed them. Canst read, yuzbashi?”

“Ay, Wallah! that can I. For two years was I clerk in a divan before I entered the army.”

“Well, then, read that aloud to your men,” said Hassan, placing a paper before him.

As the yuzbashi read the contents all the words in Turkish which correspond to “cheat,” “rogue,” “traitor,” and “scoundrel” burst in succession from his half-closed lips.

430“What is it? what is it?” shouted a score of impatient voices at once.

“It is a receipt in full showing that the Paymaster has regularly placed in the hands of Ali Bey the whole amount of pay due to you up to last month. And here is Ali Bey’s seal at the bottom. I can swear to it, as I have often to countersign papers bearing his seal.”

Curses on Ali Bey’s father, mother, and all his ancestors, now issued in torrents from the lips of the indignant assemblage; and not the least loud in venting maledictions was the yuzbashi who had been unjustly suspected of sharing in the peculation of his superiors.

Hassan watched in silence the progress of the storm which he had raised; for he rightly judged that they would soon return to ask his advice as to the course which they should now pursue. Nature had formed him to lead either in the council or in the field such rough, bold spirits as those by which he was surrounded, and they now came back to ask him what was to be done as naturally as if he had been appointed their chief.

“My brave fellows,” said Hassan, “if your eyes are now open, and you are satisfied that you have been deceived and betrayed by your officers, there is but one course by which you can save yourselves and punish them.”

“Name it,” shouted a score of rough voices.

“You know that I was brought here this morning 431from Shoobra; while there I was neither blind nor deaf. I can swear to you by the head of my father that the treachery of Ali Bey, Osman Bey, and the others is known to Mohammed Ali. Even now troops from all quarters are surrounding this palace and Ali Bey’s house in the darkness of night. At daybreak you will see them with your own eyes—escape or resistance is no longer possible.”

“Curses on Ali Bey’s head and on his father’s grave!” shouted the yuzbashi; “what dirt has that vile dog caused us to eat! But you have not told us yet, Hassan, what is to be done. Are we to stay here and be butchered like sheep?”

“Allah forbid!” said Hassan. “I will answer with my head that if you follow my counsel not a hair of your beards shall be touched. How many men are there now in Ali Bey’s house?”

“If we count his and Osman Bey’s, and Nour-ed-din Binbashi’s Mamelukes and followers, there may be two hundred of them in the house and buildings round his courtyard,” replied the yuzbashi.

“A mere handful,” said Hassan scornfully; “you are enough to master them in five minutes. My advice, then, is this. As the Beys do not know that your eyes have been opened to their treachery, they will of course admit you at any hour. Let the yuzbashi knock at the gate and say that he has something of importance to 432communicate to the Bey; he will be admitted at once. As soon as the gate is opened for his admittance, a party of us following close behind him will rush in and overpower the bowàbs or sentries that may be there. We will then let in the remainder of our brave fellows, leaving only a small guard in this palace, and we will go and make prisoners of the Beys and all their followers. When Mohammed Ali’s troops appear in the morning I will go out to their commanders and tell them that you had been deceived and misled, but that you had now returned to your duty, in proof of which you had seized and were ready to deliver up to them the conspirators. I will answer for you receiving your full pardon and your full pay besides.”

“Mashallah!” cried several voices, “the plan is good; let us follow it at once.”

“It is not so easy as it seems,” said a cautious old fellow, who had a habitual dread of his commander. “Ali Bey is a desperate and dangerous man to take; he has always four pistols in his belt, and he fights like a devil.”

“Give me a sword, my lads, and leave Ali Bey to me,” said Hassan, his eyes lighting up as they always did at the approach of strife.

“Hassan’s the leader for us!” shouted one of those whom he had released at Siout—“open hand in peace, and iron hand in the fight.”

As he spoke his own and half-a-dozen other 433swords were offered to Hassan’s choice. Selecting with the eye of a connoisseur the trustiest blade, he said, “Now, my lads, let us go; but remember, no bloodshed excepting in self-defence. Our business is to take them alive; and, Wallah! we will take them if you are firm and steady. Now assemble at the gate in silence, and be ready.”

Whilst the men were collecting for the expedition, Hassan whispered to the yuzbashi the course that he was to pursue, adding, “I do not know you, but I shall be close to you and observe you well. If you are faithful, you will be rewarded; but if you attempt to betray us, your head shall be the first to fall.”

“You shall see,” answered the yuzbashi with a grim smile, “whether I do not pay my debt to Ali Bey and those other scoundrels.”

The evening was now advanced, the Ezn-el-âshah^[117] had long since been chanted from the mosques, but there seemed to be no symptoms of retiring to rest in Ali Bey’s house. He himself, surrounded by Osman Bey, Nour-ed-din, and the other leaders of the conspiracy, were seated in his large salamlik, or reception-room, arranging their plans for the morrow and discussing eagerly the course they should adopt towards Ibrahim Pasha after they had got rid of his father.

All of them felt confident that he would gladly 434profit by their crime; but few felt sure that he would not punish its authors.

“He dare not punish us,” said Ali Bey boldly; “we are too many. See here,” he continued, drawing a paper from his vest, “here are the seals of twenty-five, none of whom are without power or friends. He may, indeed, affect to be angry at first, but he will be obliged to pardon and reward us.”

While he was yet speaking a servant came in and said that the yuzbashi, Suleiman Aga, followed by a number of the Bashi-Bazouks, was without, and wished to see the Bey.

“These fellows,” said the latter to his companions, “are ready for any mischief. I have worked them up to such a pitch of discontent that I can scarcely prevail on them to defer plundering the palace until to-morrow, when we shall have Mohammed Ali in our power. Let him come in.”

As he spoke, the yuzbashi, followed by a number of his men, entered the room, and the first words that he uttered were—

“Bey, I can no longer control these men: they demand justice and their pay.”

“Justice and our pay!” said a number of rough voices, as they kept pouring into the room.

“You shall have it, my lads, to-morrow—pay and plunder to your heart’s content,” said Ali Bey. “Only be patient to-night, and you shall have vengeance on those who have robbed you of your right.”

435“They shall have it now!” cried Hassan, coming suddenly forward, sword in hand.

“And who in the name of the Prophet may you be?” said Ali Bey.

“Wallah! Wallah! it is that traitor scoundrel Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm,” cried Osman Bey, astonished at the sudden appearance of our hero, whom he had seen some hours before under arrest.

“Present!” said Hassan in a deep, stern voice; and immediately the Bashi-Bazouks, who now lined the side of the room, presented their pistols at the knot of conspirators seated at its upper end.

“Ali Bey, Osman Bey, and you others who have deceived and betrayed these brave men by withholding their pay, their hour of vengeance is come, not against Mohammed Ali to-morrow, but against you to-night. Yield yourselves prisoners, or I give the word to fire.”

“Never!” cried Ali Bey, springing with the others to his feet. “We have adherents below enough to punish these mutinous scoundrels.”

“Ali Bey,” replied Hassan sternly, “your adherents are already overpowered—your whole plot is known to Mohammed Ali—his troops surround your house—you have no means of defence or escape; you can only now trust to the Viceroy’s clemency.”

“You, at least, shall never live to boast of this treachery,” cried Osman Bey, who was literally 436foaming with rage, as he drew his sword and sprang upon Hassan.

The result was such as might have been expected where strength, skill, and coolness were on one side and ungovernable fury on the other. Scarcely a few seconds elapsed ere Osman Bey’s sword-arm, severed by one cut, fell to the ground.

“Bind up his wound and secure him,” said Hassan coolly to one of the Bashi-Bazouks who was near him; and without deigning another look at his fallen adversary, he addressed himself to Ali Bey, saying—

“I would fain avoid useless bloodshed; will you yield yourselves prisoners or not?”

Ali Bey, though a cruel and vicious man, was not deficient in courage; but the hapless fate of his confederate, the determined language and commanding appearance of Hassan, and the formidable row of pistol-barrels that gleamed at his back, might well have intimidated a bolder spirit. In the countenance of his companions he read nothing but dismay, so he replied, “We yield ourselves,” and sullenly threw his sword on the floor at Hassan’s feet.

His comrades followed his example, and in a few minutes they were all disarmed and pinioned. Their persons were searched by Hassan’s order, and he thus obtained possession of the paper to which the seals of the conspirators had been affixed.

437Hassan spent the remainder of the night in visiting all the quarters of the house and seeing that the prisoners of all ranks were duly guarded. The Bashi-Bazouks who had witnessed the summary chastisement that he had inflicted on Osman Bey, and who seemed to feel an intuitive conviction that he was armed with the authority which he assumed, obeyed him without a murmur.

No sooner had the day dawned than he took the yuzbashi and a few more of the men to the roof of the house, whence he showed them two field-pieces already in position in their front and the troops of Mohammed Ali drawn up and surrounding them on every side.

“Did I speak the truth,” said Hassan, “when I told you that if you continued in mutiny you would be cut off to a man?”

“Wallah! Hassan, you spoke the truth,” they replied. “Our only hope is now in you, for you said that if we obeyed you we should have our pay and our pardon.”

“Fear not, I will make my words good. I will go out now alone and speak to the officer in command of these troops in front: I think I should know him.”

Descending from the roof, he walked alone out of the gate and advanced to the front of the column, the Bashi-Bazouks watching his movements from the roof and from the windows with the deepest anxiety.

438“Mashallah!” cried one, “what miracle is this? See, Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm is embracing that old officer, who by his uniform must be a Bey or Pasha. He is embracing also another younger officer: see, they are coming this way.”

“I know them well,” cried a soldier beside the first speaker. “The old officer is Dervish Bey the Swordsman, a brave old fellow; I served with him in Arabia: the other is Reschid, khaznadâr of the Kiahia Pasha.”

“Ajaib!” (Wonderful!) exclaimed several voices, “that Hassan the outlaw should be so familiar with these Beys.”

As they slowly approached the front of the palace Hassan had time to explain briefly to his father the events of the night, and the manner in which he had effected the capture of the conspirators.

On hearing his report Dervish Bey desired Reschid to ride with all speed to Shoobra to inform Mohammed Ali of what had passed, and to ask his further orders. He also sent messengers to inform Delì Pasha and the commanders of the other troops that had been drawn towards the palace that the conspiracy was already crushed.

“What news?” said the Viceroy to Reschid as the latter entered his salamlik breathless and dusty from his gallop.

“May your Highness’s life be prolonged; the conspirators are all prisoners awaiting your sentence.”

439“El-hamdu-lillah!” (Praise be to Allah!) said the Viceroy. “Had you much fighting? did the scoundrels make a stout resistance?”

“We had no fighting at all,” said Reschid, smiling; “Hassan did it all himself.”

“How was that?” said Mohammed Ali, surprised.

“In the course of the night he explained to the Bashi-Bazouk regiment how they had been misled, robbed, and betrayed by their officers; he showed them Ali Bey’s receipt, proving that your Highness had done them no injustice. Having convinced and brought them back to their duty, he led them into the adjoining house to arrest their own officers. Osman Bey made a sudden spring at him, but Hassan cut his arm off, and the rest surrendered without resistance.”

“Aferin! [bravo!] Hassan,” said Mohammed Ali; then turning to Reschid, he added, “Let them await my coming at the palace; I will be there within the hour.”

In less than the time specified the Viceroy appeared at the Esbekiah Palace gates mounted on Nebleh, who had become his favourite charger, and surrounded by a numerous guard. Having received the reports of his Pashas and generals as to the events of the night, and the names of the conspirators captured at Ali Bey’s house, he said in a loud and stern voice—

“Let Ali Bey, Osman Bey, and Nour-ed-din, who have robbed the troops of their pay, incited 440them to mutiny, and conspired against the Government, suffer the doom of traitors—off with their heads; and their villages, houses, and properties are confiscated. Let that villainous servant of Osman Bey named Ferraj, whose crimes are known to me, and his brother, Hadji Mohammed, who came into my service to poison me, receive one thousand blows of the stick; let the other prisoners await further inquiry and orders. Where is Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm? Let him stand forth.”

Our hero, thus called upon, came out and stood in front of that numerous assemblage.

“Hassan,” said Mohammed Ali, “if the disgrace imposed upon you by that dog Osman Bey led you for a time to forget your duty, your fidelity and good service now and on former occasions deserve reward; you are a worthy son of a worthy father. Hassan, son of Dervish Bey, I appoint you in the place of the traitor Ali Bey to the command of the Bashi-Bazouk regiment which he betrayed or misled. I grant them, for your sake, a full pardon, and they shall have all their arrears of pay. I present you also with the houses, lands, and property of Ali Bey, which have been forfeited to the Government.”

“May your Highness’s honour and prosperity be boundless as your bounty,” said Hassan, coming forward to kiss the Viceroy’s sleeve. He then retired a few steps, awaiting further commands or the signal to withdraw.

441He thought not of the lands or the wealth he had acquired, but one of the brightest dreams of his youth was realised: he had been publicly recognised, by one whom he held to be the hero of the age, as a worthy son of the gallant Dervish Bey. This was the feeling which filled his breast with a bounding and tumultuous joy, and his eye sought and met that of his father. But Hassan’s thoughts were speedily recalled to the presence in which he stood by the voice of Mohammed Ali, who, once more addressing him, said—

“I have rewarded your services only as you deserve; I wish now to add a favour from myself. Have you any request to make? Speak it boldly.”

“If your Highness will pardon my freedom, I would ask you to give to my friend Reschid the command of the regiment vacant by the punishment of Nour-ed-din. These men, like the Bashi-Bazouks, have been misled by the treachery of their commander; but when they learn how they have been deceived, their hearts and swords will return to your Highness’s service. I have seen the courage and fidelity of Reschid put to the proof, and under him that regiment will be as true and efficient as any in your army.”

“What say you, Kiahia?” said Mohammed Ali to his chief Pasha; “shall Hassan’s request be granted?”

“Hassan has robbed me of a good khaznadâr,” 442said the old Kiahia, smiling, “but he has given your Highness a good colonel, so I must forgive him; neither will I deny that Reschid’s fingers, when employed on the seal or the pen, are always itching for the lance and the sword.”

“Be it so, then,” said the Viceroy; “make out the order to our War Office and we will seal it. And now, Hassan, as you would not ask anything for yourself, I must select for you. Strength and youth, and, Mashallah! good looks and a good name you have; it is a shame that you remain unmarried,—I have chosen you a wife from a noble harem, and I will give her a dower myself.”

Hassan’s lip grew pale and quivered as he said in a hesitating voice—

“Pardon me, your Highness, if I decline the honour. I have made a vow that——”

Here Mohammed Ali interrupted him, saying—

“Peace, delikànloo,”^[118] and he fixed on the young man one of those piercing glances in which anger and humour were so strangely blended that it was difficult to know which was predominant. “Is there already so much wind of prosperity in your head that you despise the alliance of the daughter of Delì Pasha?”

At the sound of that name the blood rushed to Hassan’s temples. He dared not testify his rapturous delight before so many witnesses. Mohammed Ali read it in his eyes, while the lips only said—

443“Your Highness has loaded me with benefits that the gratitude and service of a life cannot repay.”

“How obedient he became at once as soon as he heard the name,” said Mohammed Ali in an undertone to Delì Pasha, who stood near him.

“Your Highness knew their attachment,” said the old soldier gratefully; “to see them united under the shadow of your protection was my fondest wish.”

The Viceroy now retired into the palace, and on entering his private apartment said to his Hakim-bashi—

“There is one thing yet I forgot to learn from Hassan; send him here immediately, and send my seal-bearer into Ali Bey’s house with a guard, and tell him to seal every door, box, and cupboard till Hassan goes in to take possession, otherwise the thoughtless boy will find nothing but empty walls.”

Our hero was just receiving the congratulations of his father and Delì Pasha when he was directed to reappear immediately in Mohammed Ali’s presence. On entering the room the Viceroy said to him—

“When you captured the conspirators, did you learn anything certain of their numbers or associates without? Wallah! I forgot myself, or I 444would have ordered the scoundrels to be tortured to make them tell before their heads were cut off.”

“Men under torture,” said Hassan, “often tell falsehoods to gratify spite and revenge; but I took from Ali Bey’s vest a paper supposed to contain the seals of all those who had joined his plot. I have not shown it either to the Kiahia or to my own father, for I thought it might contain names which, for various reasons, had better be known to none but yourself.”

“Mashallah!” said Mohammed Ali, “though you are sometimes a delikànloo, you have a head fitted for older shoulders than yours; but I have long known that you could keep a secret. Do you remember the night that you passed in a certain palace near the Nile?”

“Did your Highness know of that?” said Hassan in surprise.

“Everything that passed,” replied Mohammed Ali. “One of the blacks in the service of that lady was a spy in my pay: her conduct compelled me to have recourse to these measures, but I have taken that house away from her. The old woman who plotted with Ferraj to entice you into the house is at the bottom of the Nile. You behaved nobly, and you have nobly kept secret events which, if known, would have brought disgrace on my family. Go on as you have begun, and, Inshallah! so long as Mohammed Ali lives 445you shall not want a friend. Now you may retire.”

Hassan kissed the hand extended to him and left the presence with an exulting heart, repeating as he went out the Arabic proverb, “The husbandman prayed for a shower, and, lo! an abundant rain,” which answers to our proverb, “It never rains but it pours”—i.e., that blessings, like misfortunes, seldom “come single” in life.^[119]

A month has passed, and Hassan’s mother has wept tears of joy on the breast of her long-lost son, and they have reiterated to each other the mysterious attraction which had linked them in sympathy from the first moment that they had met in Delì Pasha’s house, and Zeinab Khanum (whom we have so long known as Fatimeh) has refused to leave Amina, now doubly dear to her, until her marriage.

And Amina—who can paint her happiness?—a happiness such as not once in a century can fall to the lot of a daughter of Islam: to be united to one whom her virgin heart has so long worshipped as an idol—one whose courage and 446devotion she has so surely proved—one whom her pure and trusting heart tells her, and tells her truly, will love her alone.

What an intensity of joy is mingled with the blushes on her cheek as she tries on the diamond ornaments with which the munificence of Mohammed Ali had decked the bride of Hassan. For his sake she is content to allow the busy tirewomen to exhaust their efforts in enhancing the brilliancy of her beauty: they stain her delicate fingers with henna, they draw a shaded line of kohl along the lids of her large and lustrous eyes, and they anoint her redundant tresses with the most sweet-scented unguents of Araby.

As Mohammed Ali had undertaken to dower the bride, all the city seemed disposed to take a share in the marriage festivities. For a week Hassan’s house had been illuminated every evening, and had been open to all visitors. Lambs, fowls, pilaws, and sweetmeats were demolished wholesale, and thousands of the poor were daily fed in the courts below.

The last day of these ceremonials had now arrived, and Amina was conducted in state to her bridegroom’s house. The procession, of immense length, was preceded by a band of tumblers or buffoons, who amused the public by their antics and somersaults; while in front of them walked a sakkah, or water-carrier, staggering under the weight of an enormous goat-skin sack filled with 447sand and water, which entitled him (if he could carry it to the bridegroom’s house without setting it down) to a liberal present. Some malicious urchin contrived, unperceived, to cut a large hole in the bottom of the skin, and escaped in the crowd. The sakkah, feeling the water trickling down his legs and the lightened load on his back, soon became aware of the trick that had been played him, and attributing it to the tumblers and jugglers behind him, turned round and began to belabour them with his half-empty sack, covering them from head to foot with sand and water, to the infinite amusement of the spectators.

Behind these buffoons there followed several open cars, one containing a kahweji, or maker of coffee, with the implements of his profession; another a helwaji, or sweetmeat-maker; a third a faterji, or pancake-maker,—all of whom dispensed their good things to the bystanders as they passed.

After these came a band of musicians, who were followed by a dozen married ladies of rank mounted on white donkeys, their saddles adorned with crimson silk and gold embroidery: to these succeeded a troop of unmarried girls on donkeys similarly accoutred.

Then came the bride, veiled from head to foot, a cashmere shawl over the veil concealing completely her face and figure from the envious eyes of the spectators.

448It is usual for brides of rank to ride on donkeys, but on this occasion Amina was mounted on Nebleh, splendidly caparisoned by the Viceroy’s order, the beautiful Arab’s embroidered reins being held by eunuchs who walked on each side of her head. The procession was closed by a party of Mamelukes richly accoutred and a band of Turkish music.

On reaching Hassan’s house the bride and her attendants sat down to a repast prepared for them, the bridegroom being, according to etiquette, absent at the bath. After a certain time he returned with his party and a cortége scarcely less numerous than that of the bride.

On entering the house he left his friends to refresh themselves below, while he went to an upper apartment where Amina was seated, still completely veiled, between Zeinab Khanum and one of Delì Pasha’s wives.

Agreeably to custom, Hassan went through the form of giving to each a piece of money, called the “unveiling fee” (for up to that moment the bridegroom is supposed not to have seen the face of the bride); the two elder ladies retired, and Hassan was left alone with Amina. According to the prescribed rules of their faith, he gently lifted the veil from her face, saying as he did so, “In the name of Allah, the compassionate, the merciful.”

But not strange to each other were those eyes 449that now exchanged their glances of unutterable love. Not the blush of a timid virgin on first seeing the stranger who is hereafter to be her tyrant was the rosy hue that tinged the neck of Amina as she listened in breathless silence to the prayer which, according to Mohammedan rite, he uttered before he ventured to embrace his wedded bride. Placing his right hand on her head, he said with a deep-toned earnestness which thrilled to her heart—

“Oh, Allah, bless me in my wife, and bless my wife in me. Unite us, as thou hast united us, for our good, and separate us when thou hast decreed to do so, likewise for our good.”

Here let us take the veil which Hassan had removed from Amina’s head and hang it over the portal of the room where their love is crowned with that “sober certainty of waking bliss,” which heretofore they had only seen in the visions of hope and in the land of dreams.

THE END.

450PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.