"Yes, who does not know the brave sarechsme, Mohammed Ali?"
"Do you love your mistress? " asked Mohammed
Youssouf looked at him with an expression of dismay and anxiety.
"I mean, you love her as it beseems every faithful servant to love his mistress-you are ready to do her every service?"
"Yes, sarechsme, so do I love her," replied Youssouf, in low tones.
"Then listen! Come close to me—it is a secret. I tell you of it for your mistress's sake; reward me by letting no one know who told you."
"I swear that I will not, sarechsme!"
"Go to your mistress and tell her to have all her treasure, her gold and silver plate, and all her other valuables, put in a safe place. You probably have some such places in your cellars or vaults. It must be done quickly. Say a dream has warned you or what you will, but do not name me!"
He enveloped himself in his mantle, and hurried back to his palace, in which all was now still. The soldiers had gone out to spend the present given them by their general in joy and revelry. Mohammed was again alone in his chamber. e walked to and fro, reflecting on all he had done, with silent self-applause :
"It would have been unfortunate had he found Sitta Nefysseh's treasure. It would help him out of his difficulties. That would never do. You are falling, Cousrouf! and it is I who am hurling you down! Your peril increases with every hour! You have only to insult Sitta Nefysseh, and all Cairo will rise up in arms against you. Let that be your last deed! Then, Cousrouf, when you have fallen, you shall know who has destroyed you!—Masa, sleep quietly in your cold grave! You are being avenged!"