ridiculed me, and said I was not as good as they, could do nothing,
didn't even know how to steer a boat. And then we laid a wager, and
I won my wager; and they shall pay the tribute, and acknowledge me
to be their captain. I call all you men to witness that I am the
captain of the boys of Cavalla."

The men looked at each other, amused and astonished at the same
time. He speaks like a child, and yet haughtily, like a monarch. His
words are childish, and yet so full of energy. And many of them
thought they could read in the book of the future that a great
destiny awaited the poor boy Mohammed Ali. "He is poor, to be sure,
and will have much hard fighting to do with the storms of life. May
the same success he has met with against the storms of the sea to-
day also attend him hereafter against the storms of life!"

Toussoun Aga stretches out his hand to take that of his nephew
Mohammed, to lead him to the rock above, to his mother, but the boy
quickly rejects the proffered assistance.

"I can ascend the rock to my mother alone; I am not weak and
terrified, uncle. Go on, I will follow."

And, as he says this, he crosses his hands behind his back. The rest
now cry out:

"Look at his hands! Look, they are bleeding!"

Toussoun now takes the boy's hands in his own, against his will, and
opens them. They are covered with blood, that oozes out of the raw
flesh.