"Do you really suppose I can answer you?" said Mohammed, gently. "Look at me; I wear the uniform of a Turkish general, and am in the grand-sultan's, and, more immediately, in Cousrouf Pacha, the viceroy's service. I am a soldier, who, wearing his uniform, must ever be mindful that he has sworn the oath of fidelity. Moreover, I am your prisoner. Do you suppose it would beseem the soldier to treat with his enemy against his commander-in-chief? Would it, do you think, become the prisoner to accept the proposals of him who for the moment is his master; would it not look as though the prisoner wished in this manner to purchase his freedom? And now answer me, Bardissi!" "This is my answer," said Bardissi, bowing his head with a smile: "You are free, and no longer a prisoner. You were entrapped, and brought here, because I wished to speak with you. This I have done, and now you are free. And now your decision, if you please!" "Osman Bey Bardissi is far too great a hero, and far too brave a soldier and honorable man, not to know what emotions agitate my soul. See, I wear a general's uniform, and my army corps is awaiting me! You cannot suppose that I will abandon them, or incite them to treason! As yet, I serve the viceroy alone," he continued in a lower voice, "and, as yet, I do not know that I can depend entirely on their fidelity." "However, you do not say 'no' to my proposals?" said Bardissi. "I say wait, Bardissi! He who wishes to attain fortune must not grasp at it with too quick a hand. He may catch hold of a corner of its mantle, but fortune itself might escape him. Only he who is calm and collected can depend on securing it, Bardissi. Therefore, I say, wait! Yet, this will I say, in addition," continued he, his countenance assuming a milder expression, "Give me your hand before we part. It is the hand of a brave man, and I am glad to press it in my own." Bardissi joyously laid his broad, sinewy hand in Mohammed's, and grasped it firmly. "I repeat it, Bardissi, wait. In eight days you shall have an answer from me. Perhaps it will, be communicated to you through common report--perhaps secretly. Therefore, name some one through whom I can communicate with you." Bardissi made no answer, but glanced uneasily at Mohammed. The latter smiled. "You are suspicious; you have already experienced too much treachery from your enemies not to fear Mohammed Ali might prove like the rest. I require no answer. In case of necessity, I will send you an answer through Mourad's widow, Sitta Nefysseh." "Sbe is our mistress, and we all reverence and obey her as we should, the widow of our great chieftain." "I know you all honor and love her!" said Mohammed, with a slight smile. "May I now depart?"