These shouts were not only heard by the viceroy, but also by Mohammed Ali in his silent chamber, and they brought a smile to his lips. He had stayed in his apartments all day, and had also commanded his soldiers to remain in their quarters. "It works well," said he to himself. "These shouts show how good was the advice I gave him. Shrewd as you are, Cousrouf, you are beaten at your own game. The people are contented to know you, enthroned in the citadel. They dreamed of happiness and peace, and called you a just ruler. I have opened their eyes. Today, they know Cousrouf to be an unjust ruler, and love him no longer. You enraged them most when you dared to insult the woman who is most honored in Cairo. From this moment, not only the men, but, what is far worse, the women, are arrayed against you." He had risen and was walking to and fro in his apartment. From time to time he stopped at the window to listen to the cries that resounded from the streets, and then resumed his walking. "What curses good Cousrouf must be invoking upon my head at this moment! He will have discovered by this time that his good friend Mohammed still somewhat resembles the 'insolent lad,' as he always called him, of Cavalla. You have schooled me well, Cousrouf; you have converted the insolent lad into a lion who wears the skin of a fox. You were pleased with the fox, stroked his fur, and called him your devoted servant. But, only wait, the fox-skin will soon fall to the ground and disclose the lion ready to destroy you. Yes," continued he, "wait but a few days longer, and this transformation shall take place. It must take place. The week will soon have elapsed, and then Bardissi must have my answer. Cousrouf shall hear it and quake in his citadel. Everything is ready, and my new friends shall soon hear from me." Suddenly he stopped before the window and listened attentively. Fierce and savage cries had succeeded the shouts of joy. The voices of women and children were now hushed, and the hoarse tones of men only could be heard. He hastily stepped back from the window. No, he must not be seen. If seen, he might be called and compelled to join in the movement against his will, and the time has not yet come. He must still wait. He stood still in the middle of the room, and listened to the uproar that came. "This is revolt! These are soldiers!" said he to himself, stepping to the door of the antechamber, and beckoning to a slave. "What is the meaning of this uproar?" "I know not, sarechsme. Shall I go down to inquire?" "Go down, mingle with the crowd, and find out what it means, and then return to me as quickly as possible." The Nubian hastened to do his master's bidding. Mohammed continued to walk to and fro. The uproar, as it came nearer, had become intelligible. "We want money! Give us bread! We are hungry. and must have our pay!" Such were the savage cries that resounded from the street below.