Of course, Muhammad Ali knew that he was taking part in an extraordinarily dangerous gamble—what he had done earlier had effectively been defying orders on the eve of battle. But the stakes on the table were simply too rich; he was willing to risk losing his life for them.
Just as the sun neared the horizon, unrest suddenly broke out among the defenders outside Cairo. Before long, they threw down their weapons and fled back into the city. An officer galloped up to Muhammad Ali and said excitedly in Albanian, "My lord, the Egyptians have retreated! According to the soldiers we captured, Ibrahim's main force has been defeated by the French. More than a hundred thousand French Soldiers will cross the Nile River tomorrow morning." Muhammad Ali's expression remained unchanged. He mounted his warhorse and personally rushed to the front lines to direct the pursuit of the routed enemy.
No one saw him let out a long breath at the instant he raised his riding whip.
The next morning, Muhammad Ali rode slowly outside Cairo, his eyes fixed intently on the ancient, prosperous city. An officer caught up with him and called anxiously, "My lord, Cairo's forces have all scattered. We need only launch an attack to seize this place at once, but why are you..."
Muhammad Ali raised a hand to cut him off and said coldly, "Are you questioning my orders? Everyone stays where they are and awaits orders!"
Naturally, he knew Cairo was already within his grasp, but he was waiting for news from across the river.
Without French support, at most he could claim the merit of "capturing Cairo," and might even have to offset it against the offense of violating military orders. What he wanted was far more than this little gain.
He waited until