"We declare him removed from his office; we declare him deposed from the throne," cried the cadi, solemnly; and the sheiks repeat the cry: "We declare him removed from his office; we declare him deposed from the throne!"
And in the streets without, the people shout exultingly: "We declare him deposed from the throne!"
Mohammed listens to these unusual outcries, and his countenance is grave and solemn.
"You depose him from the throne, O cadi! But whom will you put in his place?"
He asks the question slowly and quietly, and no one knows how wildly his heart throbs within him. He is aware that the crisis is at hand, and that what he has dreamed of since his boyhood, and worked and toiled for during four long years, is now about to be decided. "Whom will you put in his place?"
"Yourself, Mohammed Ali!" cried the cadi, solemnly. "Yes; you must rule in Courschid Pauha's stead, for we are convinced that your aim will be the welfare of the people."
"Me!" said Mohammed Ali, recoiling a step as if startled, and the pallor which overspread his face could have been caused by alarm as well as by joy.
"No, it is impossible, you cannot select me; I am not worthy of so great an honor."
"You are worthy of this honor, and the people invest you with it through me," cried the cadi. "Come, Mohammed Ali, Caimacan of Cairo, our governor and master! I proclaim you to be such, in the name of the people."
While Mohammed silently shakes his head, the cadi hastily throws open the wide doors that lead out upon the balcony of the house, steps out and proclaims, in such loud tones that the assembled thousands who fill the spacious square can hear him: