THE INSURRECTION.

From the citadel the thunder of the artillery and the fierce shouts of the people still resounded. Mohammed heard the uproar throughout the entire night. The soldiers continually pressed forward to replace their comrades shot down by the murderous volleys from the fortress.

Mohammed remained quietly in his house. True, his soldiers have joined the rebels, but who can hold him responsible, and why should he expose himself to the danger of being refused obedience should he demand it of them?

Taher Pacha thinks differently. During the night he had examined the books of the defterdar, held a prisoner in his house, and had been compelled to admit that he was innocent, and had no money with which to pay off the soldiers.

On the following morning he announced to his soldiers that the defterdar was innocent, and the viceroy alone guilty. He had accumulated and possessed money and treasure, and could pay the soldiers if he would. He had, however, determined to keep for himself all the money sent from Stamboul for the troops.

The intelligence rapidly spreads among the soldiers that Cousrouf has money, and can pay if he will.

"And pay he shall!" cries Taher Pacha. "I will march with you into his stronghold. Woe to him; he has begun this work of slaughter, and must take the consequences!"The gates are closed and barred. What care the soldiers, encouraged by their general's approach, for that?" The walls can be scaled!" No sooner said than done. Like cats, the first climb over the high wall, and the rest follow. The guards within are overpowered, and the gates are thrown open. And now all rush in intent on victory, and, above all, on obtaining money.

The viceroy's khaznadar advances to meet them with a body of soldiers. Taher Pacha calls on him to surrender. The coward obeys, and lays down his arms. Cousrouf sits quietly in his apartment, little dreaming of what has taken place.

"Let them fight on; in a short time these rebels and traitors will yield, and sue for mercy. I will have their heads severed from their bodies, and sent to Stamboul as trophies of victory!"But what does this strange noise mean?

A volley resounds from beneath Cousrouf's windows.

A Nubian rushes into his apartment, and announces, in tones of dismay: "You are betrayed, the khaznadar has surrendered, and the rebels are storming the palace."Cousrouf bounds from his seat, hurls from him his chibouque, and quickly girds on his sword.

"We will hurl them back. Let Mohammed Ali come with his troops. He will vanquish them and overthrow the traitor, Taher Pacha. Right royally shall Mohammed Ali be rewarded if he comes to my assistance;and come he will. He is at least no traitor, and will never make common cause with rebels. You, my Nubians, my body-guard, my brave followers, ascend to the battlement and turn the guns upon the rebels who surround us."They obey his command, and their guns are soon thundering down into the ranks of the rebels.

Mohammed does not come to the viceroy's assistance; he is ill, and has been confined to his room ever since Taher Pacha has been besieging the citadel with his soldiers. Nor will his illness permit him to leave the house now, and his servant announces to all comers and to the soldiers that the sarechsme is very, very ill.

After two days have elapsed, he asks the physician, who is feeling his pulse, in a weak voice and with an air of indifference, how matters are progressing at the citadel; whether the traitor, Taher Pacha, still presumes to besiege the viceroy in his palace, and laments his inability to fly to his master's, assistance with his troops. When the physician tells him that the rebels had stormed the citadel, and that Cousrouf had fled, Mohammed shudders and sinks back upon his couch. Truly, he is very ill! How could this intelligence otherwise have so fearful an effect?

"Yes, Cousrouf has fled; he hoped for your assistance in vain, and was compelled to yield when it did not come. Yes, sarechsme, he fled secretly through the back gate of the citadel into the desert with his faithful body-guard and his women.""And Taber Pacha?" asks Mohammed, eagerly.

"Taber Pacha has proclaimed himself caimacan. On my way here I met the cadi of the sheiks going to the citadel to present the robe of fur to the caimacan, in token of their recognition."Loud and derisive laughter resounds from Mohammed Ali's lips.

"Really the sarechsme is very ill, and in a fearful state of excitement! His head may be affected by it. It may become dangerous."The physician prescribes cooling applications for his head, and goes in person to superintend their preparation.

The door has hardly closed behind the physician, when Mohammed bounds from his bed.

"Now I am no longer il! The time for action has come!"He calls one of his Nubian slaves.

"Hasten, my Saneb--hasten to the camp of the Mameluke beys. You will find them near Petresin, on the banks of the Nile. Seek Osman Bey Bardissi, and say to him: 'The time has come; await, beside the great Pyramid at Gheezeh, him with whom you conversed there two weeks since; await him there with all his forces.' Have you understood me? Repeat my words."The Nubian repeated what he had said, word for word.

"And now hasten away, time is precious, and my message is important."Hardly had the Nubian departed, when messengers came to summon Mohammed to the citadel, to Taher Pacha, the new caimacan. With a profound bow, Mohammed replies that he will immediately do himself the honor of waiting on the caimacan.

He calls his servants to his assistance, and puts on his gala uniform, mounts his splendidly-caparisoned steed, and, followed by a small body-guard of eight men, gallops through the streets to the citadel.

Taher Pacha, reclining on Cousrouf s cushions and smoking his chibouque, receives Mohammed with lively manifestations of delight.