Egypt -- History -- Mohammed Ali, 1805-1849 -- Fiction; Muhammad Ali Basha, Governor of Egypt, 1769-1849 -- Fiction
"Ada, my wife," said he, "I bid you a last farewell!"
She sobbed beneath her veil, and tears poured in streams from her
eyes.
"You weep on my account," said he; "that proves that I have at least
not made my wife unhappy, and that she is not glad to be alone."
"Ah, Mohammed," murmured she, "happy have you made me, and I owe you
thanks for many glad years!"
"And I thank you for these words," said he, gently. "I will take
them with me as an amulet to protect me without, in the world. Think
of me, and watch over my children. Care for them, and do not let
them become the drones or drudges of existence. Remember that their
father is a soldier, and that he remains one to the end! Raise my
children with reference to this! Have them instructed, Ada, for my
sons must not come as ignorant soldiers to my army!"
"To your army?" exclaimed Ada, regarding him in astonishment--"your
army?"
He started; his inmost thoughts had for a moment escaped his lips.
"The army in which I serve!" said he, quickly. "Have my boys taught
to read and write; this is necessary, believe me. And now, farewell,
and receive my thanks for all the beautiful days and years which you
have sought to bless me with!"
He did not say, "which you have blessed me with." He did not wish to
take leave of her with a falsehood on his lips, and his eye glanced
over toward the place where Masa had sunk beneath the waves. There
lay his happiness buried, and from that grave it had never risen.
Ada knew it not, he had never complained, and never seemed
discontented; she had thought him happy. His love and thirst for
revenge had hitherto slumbered, but now they were awakened to new
life. He would have vengeance on him who had murdered her he loved,
and heaped insult upon himself! He is now going out into the world,
where he must meet Cousrouf Pacha, and on him will he wreak
vengeance for all his wrongs and sufferings! Yes, his Masa, his
white dove, shall be avenged!
With such thoughts, Mohammed enters the boat that rapidly conveys
him to the ship where Osman stands on the deck awaiting him.
"Welcome, Mohammed! We are on the road to honor and renown!"
"Yes, my Osman, to honor and renown," responded Mohammed.
"And may Allah's blessing accompany you!" said the tschorbadji,
holding his son in his arms in a farewell embrace. He then enters
the boat that awaits him, and is rowed back to the shore.
Osman stands on the deck beside his friend; the soldiers stand
around, silent and respectful in the presence of their bim bashi,
and now the farewell gun is fired.
The governor, Ada, and the merchant, who stand in a group on the
shore, wave their handkerchiefs: "Farewell, farewell!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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