It was a splendid spectacle, the wide plain with its array of gayly- decorated tents, with its great squares, on which the Mamelukes mounted on their proud steeds, displayed their skill with the spear and the gun, exciting the admiration of the Turks by their skill and agility. All was festivity, and life was enjoyed as though it were an uninterrupted chain of pleasures. Yet there were some who felt less contented than these Mameluke beys, some who had learned from the French that promises and assurances of friendship were not always to be relied on. Many of the beys had brought their wives with them, for the wives of the beys enjoyed greater liberty than those of the Turks, and they could move about among the tents, with as little constraint as in the streets of Cairo. The Mameluke honors his bey's wife, and bows down in the dust before her, when she passes by with head erect and veiled countenance, followed by her slaves. On this, the fourteenth day of their sojourn at Aboukir, the Mamelukes also bow profoundly before a woman who, followed by two servants, is passing down between the double row of tents, and whisper to each other: "This is the wife of our greatest chieftain, the deceased Mourad Bey! How does it happen that she has left her beautiful palace in Cairo? For what purpose has Sitta Nefysseh come to Aboukir?" And when she had passed, the Mamelukes raised their heads and followed with their eyes the white form as it swept on between the tents, and observed with astonishment that Mourad Bey's widow had stopped at the tent of the bey who was now their first chief, at the tent of Osman Bey Bardissi. Mourad's widow, and those who accompanied her, entered this tent. He lay on the divan, smoking his chibouque. But upon her appearance at the entrance to the tent, he sprang to his feet. "You here, Sitta-you in the camp at Aboukir?" "I have come to speak with you," she replied, earnestly.--"Let the rest leave the tent. Mourad's widow can be alone with the man whom her deceased husband called his dear friend." He waved his hand imperiously, and all the servants with drew from the tent, closing the gold-embroidered curtains behind them. "Speak!" said the bey, in deferential tones. "Your servant hears, and is ready to obey your commands." "I have not come to command," replied she; "I have come to warn you, Osman." "To warn me, Sitta?"