At this moment Mohammed's voice, in loud, angry tones, was heard in the adjoining room. The pacha smiled, and motioned with his head in that direction.
"You have seen Mohammed Ali, and you now hear him; he is a desperado, and will kill your father!"
"Yes," she murmured to herself, "he will now be pitiless, he will now kill him."
"But I," said the pacha, in gentle tones, "I have pity, and I will save your father."
"You will save him?" she said, tremblingly.
"I will," said he. "But hear me, Masa, charming crimson rose, hear me."
"I am listening," said she, sobbing.
He did not heed this, but stepped nearer, and bent down over her. "Masa, your jewelry I will not take, I want no such recompense; you shall even have money, all you may desire, if I can purchase you with it.
"Me, sir?" she cried, in horror. "You wish to purchase me?"
"Why are you so terrified? I have in my harem many women who are as beautiful and young as you are, and of much nobler birth, and they esteem themselves happy in belonging to me. But I tell you, Masa, I will hold you higher than them all. You shall rule over them all, and they shall all bow down before you, for Cousrouf Pacha will set them the example. By Allah! I swear it to you with the triple oath: not my slave, but my favorite, shall you be. Cousrouf Pacha will honor you as the first, as the queen of his harem."