mohammed ali and his house-第59部分

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；　before　he　steps　out；　young　Youssouf　stands　still；　draws　a　long　breath；　and　seems　to　summon　all　his　resolution　to　his　aid　to　resist　the　charm　that　carries　him　away。

〃If　she　knew　that　I　watched　her；　she　would　drive　me　from　her；　and　then　Youssouf　would　die。　Alas！　she　may　not　dream　that　I　love　her；　she　is　proud　and　unapproachable；　and　what　am　I　to　her？　The　poor　kachef　of　her　deceased　husband！　She　tolerates　me　as　she　tolerates　the　dog　that　is　accustomed　to　lie　on　the　threshold　of　her　door。　Alas；　I　should　die　if　she　knew　of　Youssouf's　love　for　her！〃

Kachef　Youssouf　is　handsome；　and；　were　it　not　the　noble　Sitta　Nefysseh；　exception　would　be　taken　to　a　woman's　having　so　handsome　a　kachef　in　her　service。　But　Sitta　Nefysseh　is　unapproachable；　virtue　attends　her　in　all　her　ways；　modesty　and　dignity　are　everywhere　her　companions。　No　one　dares　approach　her　chaste　reputation　with　even　a　breath　of　reproach。

Youssouf　steps　into　the　inner　court…yard；　he　lays　his　hand　on　his　brown　beard　and　strokes　its　curly　locks。

〃Be　a　man；〃　murmur　his　lips。　〃Be　resolute。　Alas！　I　could　endure　not　being　the　one　if　no　other　dared　approach　her。　But　here　comes　one　of　them　already。　He　can　approach　her　and　speak　of　love。　Woe　is　me！〃

With　profound　deference；　and　forcing　his　features　into　a　smile；　Youssouf　approached　Osman　Bey　Bardissi；　who　at　this　moment　came　into　the　court；　mounted　on　his　proud；　splendidly…equipped　steed；　and　followed　by　a　body　of　his　Mamelukes。

〃Is　your　mistress　at　home？〃　asked　Bardissi；　springing　lightly　to　the　ground；　and　throwing　the　purple…silk　reins　to　the　Mameluke　who　hurried　forward。

〃Yes；　Sitta　Nefysseh　is　in　the　park。　She　is　resting　in　the　kiosk；　and　I　will　announce　to　the　female　slaves　that　Osman　Bey　Bardissi　wishes　to　see　their　mistress。〃

〃Do　so；　Kachef　Youssouf；〃　said　Bardissi。　〃But　first　listen　to　me。　How　would　you　like　to　be　taken　into　my　service；　kachef？　you　are　too　good　for　this　life　of　inactivity？　If　you　desire　it；　I　will　ask　Sitta　Nefysseh　to　give　you　your　freedom？〃

〃Give　me　my　freedom？　I　am　free！〃　said　Youssouf；　regarding　Bardissi　with　proud　composure。　〃I　was　a　Mameluke　with　Mourad；　as　you　know。　My　noble　master　had　purchased　me；　he　loved　me；　and　often　told　me　I　should　remain　with　him　while　I　lived。　He　made　me　kachef；　first　kachef　of　his　house。　I　swore　eternal　fidelity　to　him　and　to　his　house；　and　I　will　keep　my　oath。〃

〃I　do　not　doubt　it；〃　replied　Bardissi；　in　kindly　tones；　〃I　only　mean；　Youssouf；　that　you　are　too　young　not　to　wish　to　wield　the　sword　and　join　us　in　the　conflict　that　is　soon　to　be　renewed。　Poor　Youssouf；　you　will　then　be　shut　out　from　our　ranks；　for　Sitta　Nefysseh　no　longer　sends　her　Mamelukes　with　us　to　battle；　she　now　uses　them　for　her　service　only；　and　I　am　certain　she　would　be　well　pleased　if　her　kachef　Youssouf；　as　it　becomes　him；　draws　his　sword　to　win　laurels　in　the　field。　You　can　make　something　great　of　yourself。　Look　at　me；　Youssouf：　I　was　what　you　are；　like　you　a　Mameluke；　also　like　you　a　kachef；　and　could　let　my　beard　grow；　and　now　I　am　a　Mameluke　bey；　and　three　thousand　servants　follow　me　to　battle。　You　might　accomplish　as　much；　Youssouf。〃

〃I　am　satisfied　with　what　I　am；　and　ask　for　nothing　more；〃　replied　the　kachef。　〃I　swore　to　Mourad　Bey　to　serve　him　and　his　house　my　life　long；　and　I　will　keep　my　oath：　I　therefore　entreat　you　to　say　nothing　to　Sitta　Nefysseh。　She　might　be　displeased。〃

〃I　will　not；〃　replied　Bardissi；　〃remain　true　to　your　word。　And　now　go　and　inquire　whether　your　mistress　can　see　me。〃

Youssouf　hastened　to　where　the　slaves　were　still　singing　their　melancholy　song；　and　sent　one　of　them　down　into　the　park　to　inform　her　that　the　Mameluke　bey；　Osman　Bardissi；　had　come；　and　desired　to　see　her。

The　slave　advanced　timidly　to　the　entrance　of　the　kiosk；　and　announced　the　visitor　to　Sitta　Nefysseh；　who；　awakening　from　a　dream　she　had　dreamed　with　open　eyes；　gently　inclined　her　head。

〃He　is　welcome。　Conduct　him　to　me。Come　nearer；　ye　slaves；　and　seat　yourselves　behind　that　clump　of　rose…bushes。　You　can　sing　and　play　while　I　am　receiving　my　visitor；　for　Osman　Bey　loves　music。　Do　me　honor；　my　slaves；　and　sing　the　love…songs　of　Djumeil　and　his　Lubna。〃

Bardissi　cannot　see　these　musicians　as　he　advances　toward　the　kiosk；　conducted　by　the　slave；　he　only　hears　and　rejoices　in　their　song。

Sitta　Nefysseh　has　risen　from　her　cushions；　but　she　has　not　covered　her　face　with　the　veil　which；　fastened　to　her　hair　with　golden　clasps；　falls　back　over　her　shoulders。　The　widow；　and　above　all　the　widow　of　the　bey；　is　allowed　to　remain　unveiled　in　the　presence　of　a　friend。　The　great　prophet　never　commanded　that　the　wives　of　Moslems　should　appear　veiled　in　their　own　houses；　the　jealousy　of　their　husbands　had　gradually　imposed　this　burden　upon　them。　Conscious　of　her　own　worth　and　dignity；　Sitta　Nefysseh　feels　herself　free　to　disregard　such　requirement。　She　turns　her　lovely　countenance　with　a　gentle　smile　toward　the　advancing　bey；　and　Bardissi　feels　the　glance　of　her　large　eyes；　though　he　does　not　see　them。　He　feels　it；　and　moves　not；　a　slight　tremor　possessing　itself　of　his　entire　being。

What！　Bardissi　trembles！the　hero；　who　amid　the　din　of　battle　joyously　confronts　the　death…dealing　cannon；　who　never　trembles；　though　face　to　face　with　a　whole　forest　of　spearsBardissi　trembles　and　turns　pale！

Sitta　Nefysseh　sees　it；　and　her　smile　brightens。　〃Why　do　you　hesitate　to　approach；　Osman？　and　what　have　you　to　say　to　me；　friend　of　my　husband；　Mourad　Bey？〃

She　wishes　to　remind　him　that　he　had　been　Mourad's　friend。　He　well　understands　her　meaning；　and；　stepping　quickly　forward；　falls　on　his　knee　before　her；　and　reverently　kisses　the　hem　of　her　dress。

〃I　paused；　O　Sitta；　Rose　of　CairoI　paused　because　I　heard　the　song　of　the　slavesthey　are　singing　my　favorite　song。〃

〃The　song　is　known　to　you？〃　said　Sitta　Nefysseh。

〃It　is。　Do　you　know；　Sitta；　when　I　first　heard　this　song？〃

〃I　do　not；〃　replied　she；　shaking　her　head　gently。

〃May　I　tell　you？〃

〃Do　so；　seat　yourself　on　the　marble　stool　standing　at　the　entrance　of　the　kiosk；　and　tell　me。〃

She　falls　back　upon　her　cushion　with　the　easy　grace　of　a　swan。　But　Bardissi　does　not　take　the　seat　so　graciously　assigned　him。　He　steps　forward　and　remains　standing　in　front　of　Sitta　Nefysseh；　gazing　down　upon　her　with　reverence　and　delight；　as　though　his　glances　were　a　consecrated　gold…inworked　veil　in　which　he　wishes　to　envelop　her　lovely　form；　and　draw　her　to　his　heart。

〃Well；　Osman　Bey；　when　did　you　first　hear　this　song？〃

He　remains　silent　for　a　moment；　the　bees　are　humming　in　the　air；　the　fountains　flashing；　and　from　the　distance　the　words　of　the　song　the　slaves　are　singing　are　wafted　over　by　the　gentle　breeze：

〃Thee　alone　on　earth　have　I　loved。　My　longing　heart　is　drawn　to　thee。　And；　though　this　earth　were　heaven；　and　it　contained　my　Lubna　not；　I'd　wander　rather　through　the　gates　of　hell　if　I　but　knew　my　Lubna　there！〃

〃If　I　but　knew　my　Lubna　there！〃　repeated　Osman　Bey；　in　low；　tremulous　tones。〃You　wish　to　know　when　I　first　heard　this　song？　I　will　tell　you。　It　was　on　the　evening　of　a　bloody　day　of　battle；　I　had　ridden　at　the　side　of　our　great　chieftain；　Mourad　Bey。　He　called　me　his　friend；　his〃

〃His　favorite；〃　said　Sitta　Nefysseh；　interrupting　him。　〃He　said　he　loved　you　like　a　brother；　and　would　confide　to　you　without　fear　or　hesitation　all　he　loved　besthis　wife；　his　childknowing　that　they　would　be　guarded　and　held　sacred　as　though　they　were　in　the　holiest　niche　of　the　mosque。　Yes；　my　noble　husband　loved　you。　And　now；　speak　on。　You　had　gone　out　to　battle。〃

〃Yes；　it　was　a　bloody　day。　The　angel　of　death　hovered　over　us；　and　the　swords　of　the　enemy　swept　heavily　upon　our　ranks。　A　sabre…stroke　dealt　by　Bashi　Seref　fell　upon　the　sword…arm　of　my　noble　friend；　striking　him　down　and　disabling　him。　The　Turk　was　preparing　to　deal　a　second　blow；　when　I　struck　him　to　the　earth　with　my　ataghan。　I　then　bore　my　friend　from　the　conflict　to　his　tent；　and　there　you　were；　Sitta　Nefysseh。　You　received　the　hero　from　my　arms；　and　for　the　first　time　I　saw　your　unveiled　countenance。　I　then　returned　to　the　battle；　and　took　Mourad's　place　at　the　head　of　his　Mamelukes。　Whether　it　was　anger　over　the　wounding　of　my　friend；　or　the　bliss　caused　by　the　lovely　image　I　had　beheld；　I　know　not；　but　my　arm　was　strong　and　mighty；　and　love　and　heroism　exulted　in　my　heart。　I　called　out　to　the　Mamelukes；　‘We　must　and　will　die　or　conquer！'　But；　being　still　too　young　to　die；　and　loving　life　too　well；　we　conquered。　The　enemy　was　driven　from　the　field；　and　ours　was　the　victory。　We　encamped　on　the　field　after　the　bloody　conflict；　and　then；　having　won　the　victory；　I　felt　privileged；　when　evening　came；　to　repair　to　Mourad's　tent　to　report　our　success。

〃No　one　was　there　to　announce　me；　I　drew　back　the　curtain　and　entered　the　first　room。　No　one　was　there；　and　the　curtain　of　the　inner　apartment　of　the　tent　was　half　drawn　aside。　I　went　no　farther；　knowing　that　the　wounded　Mourad　lay　there　on　his　cushions；　and　that　Sitta　Nefysseh　was　with　him。　I　knew　this　because　I　heard　her　singing；　she　sang　her　beloved　to　sleep　as　a　mother　lulls　her　babe　to　rest；　or　as　the　houris　sing　in　paradise；　when　they　in　wondrous　melody　announce　the　joys　of　heaven　to　dying　mortals。

〃I　remained　standing　in　the　tent　and　listened　to　your　song；　Sitta　Nefysseh。　You　sang　to　your　husband　of　love　and　happinesssang　in　sweet　words　what　Djumeil　says　to　his　Lubna：　‘Nature　breathes　love。　The　bird　in　the　air　sings　of　love；　the　spring　which　bubbles　at　your　feet　murmurs　of　love；　the　rose　that　blossoms　in　the　garden　sheds　love's　fragranceall　is　love　and　bliss。　Woe　to　them　who　know　nothing　more　of　love；　woe　to　them　who　bear　a　cold　heart　in　their　bosom。'　This　you　sang；　Sitta　Nefysseh；　and　I　stood　listening；　entranced。　What　I　then　felt　was　so　all…absorbing；　so　divinely　beautiful；　that　I　was　unwilling　to　have　the　harmony　of　that　sweet　moment　broken　in　upon　by　the　voice　of　man。　I　silently　withdrew；　your　song　informed　me　that　Mourad　slept　and　was　in　heavenly　bliss。　I　noiselessly　left　the　tent；　and　stepped　out　into　the　night。　The　moon　shed　its　soft　light　around；　enveloping　the　white　tents　scattered　over　the　plain　and　the　terrors　of　the　day　in　a　heavenly；　silver　veil。

〃I　did　not　return　to　my　tent　that　night；　howe