"You see, I obey you, as it beseems your slave to do," said he, springing to his feet; "and he now begs to be permitted to enter your service again."
"My service?" said she, with an air of astonishment. "Mourad's widow is not so proud and not of such high rank as to desire to have a troop of Mamelukes in her service. You know I liberated all my Mamelukes at my husband's death; and how could I, who have so few servants about me, dare to take a Mameluke bey into my service? No, such honor were too great for me. You, Youssouf Bey, must go out into the world again. You will still accomplish many great deeds, and do me honor. For, when your deeds are spoken of, people will say: 'He was once a Mameluke with Mourad Bey, and afterward the kachef of Sitta Nefysseh. It was in Mourad's house that he grew up and became a hero.' That suffices for me, and Sitta Nefysseh will rejoice in your renown."
"Sitta Nefysseh!" cried he, in tones of anguish, "you drive me from you! I have done as you commanded. I went out to battle and did not seek death, because you had forbidden me to do so, but fought like a lion, and earned a name. Now that I have returned, you refuse to give me the one reward I desire. While the bullets whistled about me, amid the din of battle, I thought only of Sitta Nefysseh, who would bid me welcome when I returned home, and restore to me my place in her house. This was the only reward I sought. And now you drive me from you!"
She had listened to him in breathless suspense. It was bliss to hear his words, yet her countenance must not betray her. She slowly raised her eyes, and then gazed at him, long and fixedly.
"Youssouf Bey," said she, "you cannot remain with me, and though it may seem hard to you to-day, to-morrow you will confess that it is impossible. Youssouf Bey was not created for such purposes. He is a hero! Without, your men await you. Return to them. Those who imagine that peace has entered the city with you are in error. There are still many laurels to be earned by Youssouf Bey on the battlefield. Go and gather them!"
"They have no charms for me; I desire only to look on you, to love you, Sitta Nefysseh! To remain with you and dream of bliss, and perhaps—"
"Be still!" cried she, interrupting him. "Do you wish my women to hear what your folly dictates? Mourad's widow commands you to be silent. Now you have terminated our interview. Go, join your men!"
"Forgive me, Sitta, forgive me! By Allah, I entreat you, do not deal so severely with your poor Youssouf! You are lustrous, yet also cold like the diamond! You know no mercy; for, alas, you know not love! Yet, I conjure you, be merciful; do not drive me from you; and I swear that I will speak no more of love, but only serve you as your faithful slave!"
"Let us terminate this interview," said she, in a low voice. "I shall remain convinced that you should not stay in my house, and you will therefore go."
"I must go!" cried he, in despairing tones, "yet others may approach you! The great Bardissi will be welcome, and L'Elfi may also come. They may speak to you of their love and adoration, but me you command to depart!"