Egypt -- History -- Mohammed Ali, 1805-1849 -- Fiction; Muhammad Ali Basha, Governor of Egypt, 1769-1849 -- Fiction
From the day of their first meeting, when Cousrouf Pacha appointed
Mohammed Ali sarechsme, the new general had proved his bravery and
his shrewdness in many a skirmish and battle with the Mamelukes. He
had already captured from them two strongholds, and had returned
victorious from every battle with them. Cousrouf praised his fortune
at having such a general at his side. Mohammed Ali showed himself so
zealous and devoted in his service that the viceroy listened to his
advice only, and called him his favorite and confidant.
"Truly, I am a happy man," said Cousrouf to himself. "I am the ruler
of a great kingdom. I have friends at my side in whom I can confide,
and who will assist me in all my plans, executing all I determine.
Who knows but that a great future still awaits me, and that the
crown which now hangs suspended over my head may not one day adorn
it in reality? Mohammed shall aid me. He is the bravest of the
brave, and the wisest of the wise."
He walked to and fro in his room as he said this to himself, his
countenance radiant with smiles.
"I will soon have my wives brought to me, and my daughters also. Who
knows, perhaps it were well to chain the sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, to
my side with still closer bonds? Who knows? Sometimes a strange
presentiment comes over me when I look at him. Mohammed's eyes
sometimes glitter so strangely and angrily, but he is conscious of
it at once, and then becomes more gentle and devoted than ever.
There are times when I distrust him. It were perhaps well to fasten
him to my side so firmly that he cannot free himself. Yes, I had
best give him one of my daughters in marriage. He must be submissive
and devoted to his father-in-law at all times," said he, in low
tones, "Sometimes I think his smooth countenance conceals a gloomy
soul, and that Mohammed Ali has not yet forgotten the evil done the
young lad in Cavalla. But these are mere fancies. He has proved on
every occasion that he no longer thinks of it. I will have him
called and study his countenance while speaking with him."
He sent one of his slaves to request the sarechsme to come to him.
After a few minutes Mohammed entered. He bowed profoundly before
Cousrouf, and seemed delighted when invited to seat himself beside
the pacha on the divan, and smoke the chibouque with him.
"Tell me, Mohammed, how old are you?" asked Cousrouf, after a pause,
blowing clouds of smoke from his lips, and seeming to regard the
general with kindly composure. "How old are you?"
"I hardly know, highness," replied Mohammed, smiling. "But let me
count. I believe I was fifteen when, at Cavalla, I first had the
happiness of meeting you, my distinguished master."
"Let us proceed with the calculation," said Cousrouf. "I remained
three years in Cavalla. By Allah, they seemed to me to be three
centuries! Yes, I remained there three years, and you were therefore
eighteen when I left Cavalla?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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