"Coursechid Pacha is deposed, and we elect Mohammed Ali Pacha to be our governor! Is this your will?"
"It is our will!" shout the populace, exultingly. "Courschid is deposed, and Mohammed Ali is our governor! Long live Mohammed Ali!"
His head bowed down on his breast, Mohammed stands listening to the grateful words: "Long live Mohammed Ali!"
The cadi re-enters the apartment. "You have heard their voice! Now show yourself to the people. They have chosen you. Step out upon the balcony with us, that they may salute you."
"It shall be as you say," said he, after a pause. "The people call me, and I will greet them. May Allah assist me in advancing their welfare!"
The cadi takes his hand and leads him out. Without, the assembled thousands shout exultingly: "Long live our new governor! Our caimacan! Our viceroy! Long live Mohammed Ali Pacha!"
These strains resound so loudly through the city, that they reach the citadel. Everywhere in the streets exulting voices cry: "Courschid Pacba is deposed, and Mohammed Ali is our governor!"
"I am alone viceroy here in Cairo," is the burden of a missive penned by Courschid in the citadel, and, sent down by him to the cadi and sheiks. "I alone am viceroy. Upon me the grand-sultan at Stamboul has conferred this dignity, and a message will soon come from our master announcing to you his decision with regard to the rebel, Mohammed Ali. Until then I will assert my authority, and I appeal to all faithful subjects, and to all who do not wish to hazard their future with the rebels, and to perish with them, to rally to the support of their lawful ruler."
And large numbers did so, many fearing, no doubt, the decision expected from Stamboul.
But Mohammed was undaunted, and besieged the citadel of Cairo with his faithful Albanians.