Such was Hassan’s extraordinary fleetness of foot that he had distanced all pursuers when the Bey, rising from the ground and holding a handkerchief to his bleeding face, roared aloud in fury to his kawàsses and Bashi-Bazouks to mount in pursuit. “A hundred purses to any one who takes him dead or alive!”
It may well be believed that a reward of such unheard of magnitude sent many of the greedy soldiers to their saddles with all possible speed.
Hassan meanwhile sped his way to the sheik’s tomb, beneath which he found a friendly young Mameluke of the Pasha’s mounted and holding Shèitan by the bridle.
“Quick, quick!” said the youth; “here is your belt and pistols—they are primed and loaded; here your sword and dagger; in these small bags, firmly tied to the saddle, are your clothes and purse. Away, away to the right, round these palms; I will gallop off to the left and shout as if in pursuit.”
With a grasp of the hand, and without exchanging another word, Hassan fastened his arms in his girdle, and vaulting into the saddle, went off at full speed; while the young Mameluke galloped off in the opposite direction, shouting aloud, and followed, as he expected, by the first horsemen who came up, and who, supposing him to be in sight of the fugitive, hastened in pursuit, hoping to snatch from him the coveted prize of one hundred purses.
One of the mounted kawàsses only, a powerful fellow, and greedy, like the rest, to secure the promised reward, had heard the sound of Shèitan’s retreating hoofs, and followed in the right direction; nor was it long ere, leaving the palm-grove and entering on the adjoining open fields which bordered the desert, he caught a view of Hassan in full flight before him. Well knowing that he could trust, if necessary, to his horse’s speed, Hassan did not wish to distress him at the commencement of a chase the length of which was uncertain. He contented himself therefore with going on at a moderate hand-gallop, which soon allowed the impatient kawàss to gain on him. Hassan perceiving, as he came nearer, that the man was armed like himself with sword and pistols, drew one of the latter from his belt and quietly awaited his adversary’s approach.
The kawàss, thirsting for the hundred purses, and trusting to his skill in the use of his weapon, galloped by our hero, discharging his pistol as he passed. The ball whizzed by Hassan’s head, but missed its mark; and, driving the stirrup into Shèitan’s flanks, he brought him quickly within range of his opponent, when he fired with so true an aim that the kawàss fell dead at the first shot.
“Fool!” said Hassan; “what harm had I done you that you must strive to take me?”
He dismounted, and, seeing that no other pursuers were in sight, dressed himself in the kawàss’s clothes, and throwing the body into an adjoining ditch, added a second brace of pistols to his own means of defence, and led off his late opponent’s horse, which he resolved to retain or turn loose as circumstances might render it advisable.
A few days after these events Delì Pasha, who had been released from his attendance on the Viceroy, and had performed the voyage up the Nile in a light Government canjah, arrived at Siout, where he learnt the various “moving incidents” that had occurred in his household: the imminent peril of his favourite child, rescued by the devoted courage of Hassan, her name become the subject of scandal in connection with that of her deliverer, and the disgraceful punishment awarded to his khaznadâr by Osman Bey, who, as Delì Pasha well knew, had gratified his own revengeful hatred under a semblance of zeal for the honour of his chief.