As he spoke, the yuzbashi, followed by a number of his men, entered the room, and the first words that he uttered were—
“Bey, I can no longer control these men: they demand justice and their pay.”
“Justice and our pay!” said a number of rough voices, as they kept pouring into the room.
“You shall have it, my lads, to-morrow—pay and plunder to your heart’s content,” said Ali Bey. “Only be patient to-night, and you shall have vengeance on those who have robbed you of your right.”
“They shall have it now!” cried Hassan, coming suddenly forward, sword in hand.
“And who in the name of the Prophet may you be?” said Ali Bey.
“Wallah! Wallah! it is that traitor scoundrel Hassan Ebn-el-Heràm,” cried Osman Bey, astonished at the sudden appearance of our hero, whom he had seen some hours before under arrest.
“Present!” said Hassan in a deep, stern voice; and immediately the Bashi-Bazouks, who now lined the side of the room, presented their pistols at the knot of conspirators seated at its upper end.
“Ali Bey, Osman Bey, and you others who have deceived and betrayed these brave men by withholding their pay, their hour of vengeance is come, not against Mohammed Ali to-morrow, but against you to-night. Yield yourselves prisoners, or I give the word to fire.”
“Never!” cried Ali Bey, springing with the others to his feet. “We have adherents below enough to punish these mutinous scoundrels.”