“I am sorry for it,” said Delì Pasha, addressing Mr Thorpe; “but Hassan was perfectly justified, and Osman Bey only got what he deserved.”
The spectators and combatants were gathered into little knots and groups, all uttering similar sentiments, and some adding, “This is an unlucky thing for Hassan—Osman Bey never forgives—’tis a brave youth, but the cup of coffee or the dagger will be his fate.”[[59]]
After the breaking up of the games, Hassan, having given over Shèitan to the groom to be taken to the stable, before he re-entered the house cast a furtive glance upward at the well-known lattice in the harem. This time he could not be mistaken—a white forehead and dark lustrous eyes were certainly visible at the curtained aperture, but they were hastily and timidly withdrawn when they encountered his eager glance.
“’Tis she—’tis the star of my destiny—the life-blood of my heart,” said Hassan to himself, “whoever and whatever she may be. Well! she has this day seen that, humble and unknown as I am, the proudest bey in Egypt shall not insult me with impunity.” And he strode into the house so completely occupied with dreams of the future that he nearly ran against Ahmed Aga, who was coming to tell him that the Pasha had sent for him. On reaching the upper room where they were assembled, the Kiahia Pasha paid him so many compliments on his uncontested superiority over all his competitors that Hassan looked quite confused; indeed, he had been so much taken up with other thoughts that he had not been aware, until Delì Pasha called his attention to the fact, that the blood was still trickling from the wound he had received in his cheek.
“It is nothing,” said Hassan, smiling, and applying his handkerchief carelessly to it. “I hope Osman Bey’s back will suffer as little.”
“Hassan,” said Delì Pasha, addressing our hero, “the Kiahia informs me that in the course of a day or two our English guests are going to pay a visit to the Pyramids, and that he sends with them a guard of fifty horsemen. They have expressed a desire that you should join their party, as you are already old acquaintances. If you wish to do so, you have my full permission.”
Hassan accepted the invitation readily, for, notwithstanding the latticed window, from which it was difficult to tear himself away, he had an undefined longing to visit a spot connected with his earliest years and the mystery of his birth.
After the departure of the Kiahia and the Thorpe party, Delì Pasha detained Hassan alone and said to him—
“This is a bad business, Hassan; Osman Bey is now your enemy, and he is a dangerous man. I will tell you something of his life. Years ago, when he was in charge of some money to pay the troops, Mohammed Ali discovered that he had appropriated a portion of it to his own use, and forthwith caused him to be severely beaten and thrown into prison; after his release he accompanied Ibrahim Pasha to the war against the Wahabees, where he gained a high reputation—for, to give him his due, he is a good soldier—and regained his Highness’s favour. Since then Mohammed Ali, whose habit is to raise up those whom he has disgraced,[[60]] has made him a bey, and treated him with much regard. Now he is named to be my wakeel or vice-governor at Siout, and as I know him to be a cruel and revengeful man, I fear he will find some opportunity of doing you an injury.”
“I fear him not,” said Hassan boldly. “I have nothing to do with him; I serve your Excellency, and if he seeks a quarrel with me, let him do so; I am ready.”