"It would have been unfortunate had he found Sitta Nefysseh's treasure. It would help him out of his difficulties. That would never do. You are falling, Cousrouf! and it is I who am hurling you down! Your peril increases with every hour! You have only to insult Sitta Nefysseh, and all Cairo will rise up in arms against you. Let that be your last deed! Then, Cousrouf, when you have fallen, you shall know who has destroyed you!--Masa, sleep quietly in your cold grave! You are being avenged!"
Mohammed Ali's warning to the kachef Youssouf had not been disregarded. In the secret vault, the entrance to which had been confided by Mourad Bey to his wife on his deathbed, Sitta Nefysseh's treasure now lay in security.
No one in the house knew of this vault; Sitta Nefysseh had confided it to the kachef Youssouf only, and they two had conveyed all her valuables to this hiding place.
When all was completed, and the Sitta had retired to her apartments, Youssouf announced himself, and, upon being admitted, stepped humbly forward, fell on his knees, and handed her the keys.
She looked at him in surprise. "What does this mean? What do you bring me?"
"The keys to the vault. This one opens the inner, and the other the outer door."
"You will keep them for me, Youssouf," said his mistress, inclining her beautiful head.
"You confide them to me," said he, his countenance radiant with delight. "You wish to confide to your slave the keys to your treasure?"
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