In the detailed account which I gave you, my dear Louis, of my
honeymoon, I described pretty nearly the history of every day which has
passed since I last wrote. "Happy nations have no history," said a wise
man; happiness requires no description. First then, you must understand
that I am now writing after recovery from the natural excitement into
which my strange adventures had plunged me. Three months have passed; I
am now enjoying my life like a refined vizir, and no longer like a
simple troubadour of Provence, transported of a sudden into the Caliph's
harem. I have recovered my analytical composure.
As you may well imagine I set to work, after the second day, to learn
Turkish, an easy task after my studies in Sanscrit. Add to this that,
with the aid of love, my houris have learnt French, with all the
marvellous facility and linguistic instinct of the Asiatic races. You
will not be astonished to learn, then, that I can now share with them
all the pleasures of conversation; a happy result which will permit me
henceforth to furnish a more complete description of their different
characters.
Having said this, I will give you in the present letter, with a view of
enabling you to understand this narrative more perfectly, the most
precise details upon the following subjects:
First--The organisation, laws, and internal regulations of my harem;
Second--Full-length portraits of my odalisques, and a description of
their characters;
Third--A careful dissertation upon the advantages of polygamy, and its
applicability to the moral regeneration of mankind.
I will first confess, without any presumption, that the ingenious system
established for the conduct of my harem is all due to my uncle
Barbassou, who, as much as any man in the world, was always particularly
careful to maintain what the English term "respectability." In the eyes
of the whole neighbourhood, nay, even of my own household, Mohammed-Azis
is an exile, a person of high political rank, to whom my uncle had given
a hospitable retreat.
Barbassou-Pasha always addressed him respectfully as "Your Excellency,"
nor did any servant in the château speak in different terms of him. He
had had the misfortune to lose one of his daughters--so the story
goes--for he seems to have had originally five. Whether his daughters
are young or old, no one knows. In the interior of the Kasre all the
services are performed by Greek women, who do not know a word of French;
they never go out of doors. The gardeners have to leave the gardens at
nine o'clock in the morning. All these arrangements, as you will
perceive, are extremely correct. The story about Mohammed is a very
plausible one; his solemn and melancholy expression together with his
solitary life, are thoroughly in conformity with the fallen grandeur of
a minister in disgrace. He is writing, according to report, a memoir in
justification of his conduct. He works at it both day and night, and it
is well-known that I very often sit up quite late with him, in order to
assist him in this task.
As for me, I do not suppose you imagine that, like the Knight Tannhauser
on the Venusberg, I am continually wasting my spirit and my strength
over what Heine calls "the sweets and dainties of love;" or that the
philtres of Circe have transformed me into a hog like the companions of
Ulysses.--Go gently, my dear fellow! I am a representative of the
learned cohort, please to remember! I keep a careful diary of my
observations, from which I intend to draw up a report for the Academy.
Like those bold investigators of pathological science who inoculate
themselves with a deadly virus in order to study its effects upon
themselves, I, a serious analytical student, am devoting myself to a
course of experiments in pure sensualism, to the sole profit of
Science. Without restrictions, but in full consciousness of the high
mission which I have undertaken; without cheating myself with too small
a dose of the intoxicating draught, I act like an honest Epicurean. I
take of the voluptuous delights of my harem as large a dose as an
intelligent and refined student of nature ought to require, but without
imprudently overstraining the springs of sensation. Armed with the
dexterity of superior wisdom, I, floating on this Oriental stream of
Love, know how to remain faithful to my charge, by avoiding the rocks of
satiety and the shipwreck of illusions.
Every day then, about three o'clock, after having devoted the morning to
my business affairs or to my "Essays on Psychology," I go to El-Nouzha,
and stay there usually until the middle of the night. However, I
sometimes go there of a morning, for a bath; I am teaching my houris to
swim. I must tell you that in this matter, indispensable for the comfort
of the sultanas, Barbassou-Pasha designed a marvel. In the middle of an
island in the lake (which is taken from the delightful garden of
See-ma-Kouang, the famous Chinese poet), picture to yourself a great
marble basin surrounded by a circular arcade, a sort of _atrium_ open to
the sky. Under a colonnade and in its cool shade, a fine Manilla mat
covers the flag-stones. The base of the inner walls is enlivened with
frescoes, after Pompeian and Herculanean models. Round the white pillars
cling myrtles and climbing roses, reaching up to the terrace ornamented
with vases and statues, which stand out in relief against a mass of
purple drapery. Here are set capacious divans in leather, hammocks,
carpets, and cushions to recline upon. Such is the aspect of this
enchanting place. On many a hot morning we have breakfasted there, and
it is from there that I write to you to-day, dressed in a Persian robe
with wide sleeves, while around me sports my harem; affording me,
therefore, an excellent excuse for at once proceeding to sketch the
portraits of my _almées_.
In all beings the internal character is so closely allied to the
external form, that it appears to be only an equation of the latter.
Thus certain features of the face announce peculiarities of nature,
inclinations, and instincts even to the vulgar; the physiologist, with
his more special knowledge, discovers quite a series of concealed
revelations in the innermost recesses of that pretty sphinx which
constitutes God's masterpiece, and which we call woman. In the same way
grace is always the result of the harmony of lines; from the slightest
outline, from the position of a dimple, or the tension of a smile, from
a glance, or from the most transient gesture, one can always trace the
origin of a feeling, and lay bare the mind. Thus, at this moment, I
behold Hadidjé leave the water, and saunter quietly in the direction of
Nazli and Zouhra, who are reclining on cushions and smoking cigarettes.
By the air of indifference that she affects I could wager that she
contemplates playing them some trick!
And indeed, when close to the smokers, she suddenly shook her hair. The
two others jumped up under the spray of sparkling water, and ran after
her, beating her with their fans and fly-flaps.
Kondjé-Gul, the heedless beauty, who is rocking herself in her hammock
beside me, scarcely raises her lazy head to follow them with a glance,
at the sound of their cries and laughter. Since her name is at the end
of my pen, I will begin my series of portraits with her.
Kondjé-Gul is a Circassian by race. Her name in Turkish signifies a
variety of rose which we are not acquainted with in France; she was
brought when quite a child to Constantinople by her mother, attached to
the service of a cadine of the Sultan. She is now eighteen. Imagine the
Caucasian type in the flower of its beauty, tall, with the figure of a
young goddess, an expression of natural indolence which appears to
indicate a consciousness of her sovereign beauty, and a fine head
crowned with thick chestnut hair falling down to her waist. Her features
are clean cut, and of a remarkably pure type. Large brown eyes with
heavy eyelids, imparting a languishing expression; lips somewhat
sensual, which from her habit of carrying her head erect, she seems
always to be holding out for a kiss; a mixture of Greek beauty with a
strange sort of grace peculiar to this Tcherkessian race, which still
remains a trifle savage. All these characteristics make up an _ensemble_
both exotic and marvellous, which I could no more describe to you than I
could explain the scent of the lily. Of a loving and tender nature, she
exhibits the disposition of a child in whom ardent impulses are united
with a profound gentleness of sentiment. She is the jealous one of my
household--but, hush! the others know nothing of this.... Certainly she
is the most remarkable and the most perfect of my little animals.
Hadidjé is a Jewess of Samos, a Jewess of a type singularly rare among
the descendants of Israel. She is a blonde of a mingled tint, soft and
golden, of which the Veronese blonde will give you no idea. Her beauty
is undoubtedly one of those effects of selection and crossing admitted
as the foundation of Darwin's system.... England has left her trace
there! Picture to yourself one of those "Keepsake" girls escaped from
Byron's "Bride of Abydos" or his "Giaour;" take some such charming
creature, fair and fresh-complexioned, white and pink, and plunge her in
the atmosphere of the harem, which will orientalise her charms and give
her that--whatever it is--which characterises the undulating
fascinations of the sultanas.
My dear friend, an incredible event has happened--an event astounding,
unheard of, supernatural! Don't try to guess; you will never succeed,
_never!_ It surpasses the most prodigious and miraculous occurrence ever
imagined by human brain.
Yesterday I had broken off my letter, distracted by Hadidjé, at the very
moment when I was tracing her portrait for you. The day passed away
before I again found leisure to finish it. This morning I was
breakfasting at the château all alone in my study, where I generally
have my meals, in order not to interrupt my work. While I was
ruminating over the last number of a scientific magazine, my ear was
struck by the noise of a carriage rolling over the gravel walk. As I
very seldom receive visits, and my friend George, the spahi, always
comes on foot, I thought it must be my notary coming to stir me up about
some business matters; he had been reproaching me the last fortnight for
neglecting them. The carriage stopped in front of the doorsteps. I heard
the servants running across the antichamber. Suddenly I heard a cry,
followed by confused voices, which sounded as though trembling with
fright, and finally fresh sounds of steps, rushing headlong, as in a
sudden rout. Wondering what this might mean, I listened, when all of a
sudden a stentorian voice shouted out these words:--
"But what's the matter with those blockheads? How much longer are they
going to leave me here with my bag?"
Louis, imagine my amazement and stupefaction! I thought I recognised the
voice of my dead uncle, which in the brazen notes of a trumpet grew
louder and louder, adding in a pompous, commanding tone--
"François! if I catch you, you rascal, you'll soon know what for!"
I jump up, run to the window, and see quite distinctly my uncle,
Barbassou Pasha himself.
"Hullo! you here, my boy?" says he.
As for me, I leap over the balcony, and fall into his arms; he lifts me
up from the ground, as if I were a child, and we embrace each other. You
may guess my emotion, my surprise, my transports of joy! The servants
watched us from a distance, frightened and not yet daring to approach
near.
"Ah, well!" repeated my uncle; "what on earth's the matter with them?
Have I grown any horns?"
"I will explain everything," I said; "come in, while they take up your
luggage."
"All right!" he replied; "and get some breakfast for me, quick! I'm as
hungry as a wolf."
All this was said with the dignity of a man who never allows himself to
be surprised at anything, and in that meridional accent, the ring of
which is sufficient to betray the origin of the man. My uncle speaks
seven languages; at Paris, as you know, he pronounces with the pure
accent of a Parisian, but directly he sets foot in Provence, that's all
over; he resumes his brogue, or as they call it down here, the _assent_.
He came in, stepping briskly, and holding his head erect; I followed
him. Once in my study, and seeing the table laid, he sat down as
naturally as if he had just returned from a walk in the park, poured out
two large glasses of wine, which he swallowed one after the other with a
gulp of deep satisfaction; and then made a cut at a pie, which he
attacked in a serious manner, rendering it quite impossible to mistake
him for a spectre. I let him alone, still contemplating him with
amazement. When I considered him ready to answer my questions, I said--
"Well, uncle, where have you come from?"
"Té! I come from Japan, you know very well," he answered, just as if he
were referring to the chief town of the department; "only I have dawdled
a bit on the way, which prevented me from writing to you."
"And during the last five months what has happened to you?"
"Pooh! I made an excursion into Abyssinia, in order to see the Negus,
who owed me two hundred thousand francs. He has not paid me, the scamp!
But how odd you do look! And that great _arleri_, François! how he
stares at me with his full round eyes, as if I were going to swallow him
up. Is there anything so very fierce about me? Hullo, you have altered
my livery!" he went on; "they all look like ecclesiastics; have you
taken orders, then?"
"Why, uncle, these five months past we have been in mourning for you."
"In mourning for _me_? You must be joking!"
"These five months past we have believed you to be dead, and have
received all the documents proving your death!"
"Perhaps these documents informed you that I was buried, then?" he
added, without changing countenance.
"Why, yes, certainly!" I said. "We have also the certificate of your
interment!"
At this my uncle Barbassou could restrain himself no longer, and was
seized with one of those fits of silent laughter which are peculiar to
him.
"In this case--you would be my heir?" he said, in the middle of his
transport of gaiety, which hardly permitted him to speak.
"I am already, my dear uncle," I replied, "and am in possession of all
your property!"
This reply put the finishing touch to his hilarity, and he started off
again into such a fit of laughter that I was caught by it, and so was
François.
But suddenly my uncle stopped, as if some reflection had crossed his
mind, and seizing my hand with a sudden impulse he said:
"Ah! but now I think of it, my poor boy, you must have experienced a
severe blow of grief!"
This was said with such frank simplicity, and proceeded so evidently
from a heart guiltless of any dissimulation, that I swear to you I was
stirred to the bottom of my soul; my eyes filled with tears, and I threw
myself on to his neck to thank him.
"Well, well!" he said, patting me on the shoulder to calm me, while he
held me in his arm; "never mind, old fellow, now that I'm back again!"
When breakfast was finished and the table cleared, we remained together
alone.
"Come, uncle, as soon as you have explained to me what has happened to
lead to this story of your death, the next thing will be to take early
steps for your resuscitation."
"Take steps!" he exclaimed, "and for why?"
"Why, to re-establish your civil status and your rights of citizenship
as a live person."
"Oh, they'll find out soon enough, when they see me, that I don't belong
to the other world!" said he, quite calmly.
"Now that you are regarded as defunct, you will not be able to do
anything, to sign, to contract----"
"So, so! Never mind all that. Barbassou-Gratien-Claude-Anatole doesn't
trouble himself about such trifles."
"But your estates?" I said; "your property which I have inherited?"
"Have you paid the registration fees?" he asked me, in a serious tone.
"Certainly I have, uncle."
"Well! Do you want to put me to double expense for the benefit of the
government, which will make you pay it all over again at my real death?"
"What is it you mean to do, then?" said I.
"You shall keep them! Now's your turn," he added, in a chaffing tone;
"all these forty years I have had the worry of them; it's your turn now,
young man! You shall manage them, and make them your business; it will
be for you now to pay my expenses and all that!"
"I hope you don't dream of such a thing, my dear uncle!" I exclaimed.
"Why even, supposing that I continue to manage your property----"
"Excuse me," he said, "_your_ property! It is yours, the fees having
been duly paid."
"Well, _our_ property, if you like," I replied, with a laugh; "all the
same, I repeat you cannot remain smitten with civil death."
"Bah! Bah! Political notions! But first explain to me how I come to be
dead--that puzzles me."
I then related to him what I have told you of this strange story; the
notary's letter informing me of the cruel news brought by my uncle's
lieutenant Rabassu, confirmed by the most authentic documents, and
accompanied by a portfolio containing all his papers and letters,
securities in his name, and agreements signed by him; proving, in short,
an identity which it was impossible to dispute.
"My papers!" he exclaimed. "They were not lost then?"
"I have them all," I replied.
"I begin to understand! It's all the fault of that stupid Lefébure."
"Who is this Lefébure?" I asked.
"I am going to tell you," replied my uncle; "the whole thing explains
itself and becomes clear.--But I wonder, did not Rabassu with the news
of my death bring some camels?"
"Not a single camel, uncle."
"That's odd! However, sit down, and I will tell you all about it."
I sat down, and my uncle gave me the following narrative. I write it out
for you faithfully, my dear Louis; but what I cannot render for you, is
the inimitable tone of tranquillity in which he related it, just as if
he were describing a fête at a neighbouring village.
"In returning from Japan," he said, "I must tell you that I put in at
Java. Of course I landed there. On the pier-head, I recognised Lefébure,
a sea-captain and an old friend of mine; he had given up navigation in
order to marry a mulattress there, who keeps a tobacco-shop. I said to
him 'Hullo, how are you?' He embraces me and answers that he is very
dull. 'Dull?' I reply, 'well, come along with me to Toulon for a few
days; my ship is in the harbour here, I will give you a berth in her,
and send you home next month by "The Belle-Virginie!" My proposal
delights him, but his answer is that it is impossible. 'Impossible?
Why?' 'Because I have a wife who would not hear of it!' 'We must see
about that,' I say to him. Well, we go to their shop; the wife makes a
scene, cries and screams, calling him all sorts of names, and they fight
over it. At last, while they are taking a moment's rest, I add that I
shall weigh anchor at six o'clock in the evening. 'I will wait for you
until five minutes past six,' I say; and then I go off to my business.
At six o'clock I weighed anchor, and began to tack about a bit. At 6:10
I was off, when I saw a barque approaching. I gave the order 'Stop her.'
It was Lefébure, who was making signs to us to stop. He comes up, gets
on board, and off we go."
Fifteen days after that we put in at Ceylon for a few hours. On the
twenty-sixth day, as we arrived in sight of Aden, we observed a good
deal of movement in the harbour. There was an English man-of-war
displaying an admiral's flag, which they were saluting. On shore I
learnt that she was carrying a Commission sent out to make some
diplomatic representations to the Negus of Abyssinia. And who should I
meet but Captain Picklock, one of my old friends whose acquaintance I
made at Calcutta, where he was in one of the native regiments. He
informed me that he was in command of the escort accompanying the
envoys. I said to Lefébure 'By the by, the Negus owes me some
money--shall we go and make a trip there?' Lefébure replied, 'By all
means let us!' I bought four horses and half-a-dozen camels, which I
sent on board with my provisions; and we started with the envoys. We had
some amusement on the way. I knew the country very well myself, but when
we were half-way, at Adoua, where we halted for half a day, Lefébure
picks up with an Arab woman. He wants to stay with her until the next
day, and says to me, 'Go on with the captain; I will join you again
to-morrow with the convoy of baggage.' I started off accordingly. Next
day, no Lefébure. That annoyed me rather, because he had kept the
camels. However, I continued my journey, thinking that I should find him
again on my return. Finally I arrived at the Negus's capital, just in
time to hear that they were on the point of dethroning him. My intention
was to apply to the English commissioners to help me in getting my
little business settled. I found, however, that my portfolio and papers
were with Lefébure, who had the baggage; fortunately, I still had the
gold which I carry in my belt. Then I naturally availed myself of this
opportunity to go off and wander about the interior, as far as Nubia,
where I had some acquaintances. I commissioned Captain Picklock to tell
Lefébure to come on and join me at Sennaar, with the camels. So off I
go, and arrive in ten days' time at Sennaar, where I find the King of
Nubia, who was not very happy about the political situation; he treats
me very hospitably, and I buy ivory and ostrich feathers of him.
Three weeks go by, but no Lefébure! So I naturally avail myself of the
delay, for pushing on a bit into Darfour; when, lo and behold! just like
my luck, on the ninth day, as I am entering the outskirts of El-Obeid in
Kordofan, I am met by a predatory tribe of Changallas! They surround me;
I try to defend myself, and a great burly rascal jumps at my throat, and
trips me up. I feel that I am being strangled by him; I deal him a blow
in the stomach with my fist, and he tumbles backwards; only, as his hand
still grips my throat, he drags me down with him; the others attack me
at the same time, and I am captured! My blow appears to have been the
death of the negro--which did not mend matters for me. They thrust me,
bound fast like a bundle of wood, into a sort of shed, after robbing me
of all my gold.
I was carefully guarded. At the end of eight days I said to myself,
'Barbassou, your ship lies in the harbour of Aden; you have business to
attend to, and you won't get out of your present scrape without
conciliatory negotiations. You must resign yourself to a sacrifice!' I
send for the chief, and offer him as my ransom a cask containing fifty
bottles of rum, ten muzzle-loading guns, and two complete uniforms of an
English general. This offer tempts him; but as I ask him first of all to
have me safe conducted to the King of Nubia, he answers that if once I
got there I should send him about his business. They confined me in a
pit, where I had only rice and bananas to eat, to which I am not at all
partial. As to the women, they are monkeys. However, after four months
of negotiations we came to an agreement that I should be conveyed back
to Sennaar, where I engaged upon my word of honour to give guarantees.
I set off, still bound fast, with ten men to guard me. After a fortnight
we arrive in the town. I enquire for Lefébure.--No Lefébure. I then go
to the king's palace--but he had just started off on a week's hunting
expedition. However, I find the sheik who was in command of the town,
and relate my difficulty to him. He informs me that the treasury is
closed. I tell my guards that they can return, and that I will have my
ransom sent from Aden, but that does not content them; one of them
seizes hold of me by the arm, but I gave him a good hiding. Finally the
sheik furnishes me with an escort, and I return to Gondar. The English
had gone back, and I started on my voyage across to Aden. When I reached
Adoua, where I had left my friend Lefébure, I asked for him. Again no
Lefébure! However, I had the luck to find his Arabian sweetheart, whom I
questioned about him. Her reply is, that the very day I left him, the
stupid fellow went and caught a sunstroke, of which he died the same
day. I inquire after my baggage and my camels.--No baggage, no camels!
They had all been forwarded to the Governor of Aden.
"When I arrived at Aden, the Governor told me that everything which had
been received had been sent on board my ship, including the papers found
on my friend, and that a certificate of death had been duly drawn up,
which my lieutenant was instructed to convey to the family. I asked no
more questions, and wrote at once a little note of condolence to
Lefébure's wife. I sent the agreed ransom to my Changallas, and at the
same time a letter of complaint to the King of Nubia. Altogether, it was
four months since my ship had left Aden. The following day I took the
mail boat to Suez--arrived last night at Marseilles--and here I am!"
"Yes, indeed," I said to my uncle, when he had concluded; "that explains
it all. They drew up the certificate of decease according to the papers
found on your friend Lefébure, and as they were yours----"
"Why, they mistook him for me; and that ass Rabassu went off with the
ship to bring the notary the news of my death."
"That's clear," I added.
"But what puzzles me most," replied he, "is to know what has become of
my camels!"
As you may well imagine, my dear Louis, this unexpected resurrection of
my uncle plunged me into a state of excitement, which took entire
possession of me. I could not see enough of him, or hear enough of him;
and all that day I so completely forgot everything which did not concern
him, that I did not even think of moving outside the château. I followed
him from room to room, and kept looking at him, for I felt the need of
convincing myself that he was really alive. As to him, quickly
recovering from the very transitory astonishment into which the news of
his supposed death had thrown him, he had resumed that splendid
composure, which you remember in him. He superintended all his little
arrangements, and unpacked all his boxes, full of all sorts of articles
from Nubia, whistling all the while fragments of _bamboulas_ which were
still ringing in his ears.
After dinner in the evening, he said to me, stretching out his long legs
over the divan, with the air of a man who loves his ease:
"By Jove, it's very snug here! If you like, we will stay down here
several weeks."
"As many weeks as you like, uncle," I answered--"months even!"
"Well done!--But," he continued, "won't you be rather dull?--for, unless
you have some little distraction----"
"Ah!" I exclaimed, remembering all at once my harem; "I forgot to tell
you about this little affair!"
"What affair?" he said. "Have you found your distraction already, then?"
"I should just think I have, uncle!"
"Is she pretty?"
"Why, I have four!"
At this information my uncle did not raise his eyebrows any more than if
I had told him that I was occupying my leisure by practising the rustic
flute; he only stretched out his arm, took my hand and shook it smartly
in the English fashion, saying,
"My compliments, my dear fellow!--I beg your pardon for my
indiscretion."
"But, my dear uncle, I have quite a long story to tell you!" I added,
not without a certain embarrassment "--and it is your death again that
has been the cause of it!"
"How was that? Tell me all about it."
"You know, your Turkish pavilion--Kasre-el-Nouzha?"
"I know, well?"
"Well, four months ago, Mohammed-Azis arrived there."
"Hullo!" he said, "Mohammed?"
"Yes, and you had entrusted him with a--a commission," I continued.
"True," he exclaimed, "I had forgotten that!"
"Well, then, uncle----"
"He had accomplished his commission, I suppose," continued he.
"Yes," I replied. "And as you were dead, and Mohammed's commission
formed part of my inheritance from you, I thought that it was my duty--"
"_Bigre!_" said my uncle, "you know how to act the heir very well, you
do!"
"Why indeed--" I continued, "remember that I could not suppose----"
"In short you've done it," said he, "and it's all over, so don't let us
say anything more about it! And once more, forgive me.--Now that I know
all about it, nothing more need be said. Turks never discuss harem
matters. Only," he added, "in order to avoid the necessity of returning
to the subject, let me now recommend you to keep Mohammed; you
understand? He knows the run of the ropes. And in order to make
everything safe, as it would not do for me to be seen about there any
more, tell him to come and see me."
"Do you wish me to send for him at once?"
"No, no, to-morrow will do. We have plenty of time.--Come, give me a
little music, will you? Play me something from Verdi--"
And he began to hum in his bass voice, slightly out of tune, snatches
from the air:
"Parigi o cara, noi lasceremo."
We passed a charming evening together, what with conversation, music,
and cards. He won three francs of me at piquet, with a ridiculous
display of triumph. About twelve o'clock I took him to his bedroom. When
he was ready to get into bed, he exclaimed:
"_Té!_ I have some securities here which I had forgotten!" And taking a
penknife, he proceeded to cut the stitches of his coat lining, from
which he drew out some papers.
"See!" he said, as he held them out to me, "here are seven hundred
thousand francs' worth of bills on London and Paris. You shall get them
cashed."
"Very well, uncle," I replied. "And what do you want me to do with the
money?"
"Oh, upon my word, that's your affair, my _pichoun_! You may be sure,
now that you have come into your inheritance, I am not going to be
troubled with such matters!"
"Well, at least advise me about them."
"But, my good fellow, that means that I am still to have all the bother
about them--. After all," he continued, "keep the money if you like--it
will do for my pocket money."
Thereupon he went to bed, I wished him good night, and was about to
leave the room, when he called me back.
"Come here, André! Write, if you please, to the notary and ask him to
come here to-morrow."
"Ah!" I replied, "you're coming round to that at last!"
"I am coming round to nothing whatever!" he exclaimed, in a most decided
tone. "Only I want to know what has become of my camels! As you may
guess, I intended to present them to the Zoological Society. I must have
them found! Good night!"
I should certainly annoy you, my dear Louis, if I were to endeavour to
impress upon you the full significance of the amazing events through
which I have passed during these four months. I don't know of a single
mortal who has experienced more original adventures. The dreadful letter
from the notary, my installation at Férouzat, my uncle's will, the harem
tumbling down upon me from Turkey, the entering into complete
possession of my fortune, and the whole crowned by the return of the
deceased. Certainly you will agree with me that these are incidents
which one does not meet with in everyday life. Nevertheless, if you want
to know my ideas about them, I confess that they seem to me at the
present moment to be nothing but the Necessary and the Contingent of
philosophers, in their simplest application. I would go so far as to
assert that, to a nephew of my uncle, things could not fall so to
happen, for it would show a want of training in the most elementary
principles of logic, to exhibit surprise at such little adventures, when
once Barbassou-Pasha has been introduced on the scene as Prime Cause.
The substratum of my uncle so powerfully influences my destiny, that to
my mind it would seem quite paradoxical to expect the same things ever
to happen to me as to any other man. Cease being astonished, therefore,
at any strange peculiarities in my life, even if they be eccentric
enough to shock a rigidly constituted mind. Like those erratic planets
which deviate occasionally from their course, I move around the
remarkable star called Barbassou-Pasha, and he draws me into his own
eccentric orbit. In spite of a semblance of romantic complications among
the really simple facts which I have related to you, I defy you to
discover in them the slightest grain of inconsistency. They can be
perfectly well accounted for by the most natural causes and the most
ordinary calculations of common sense. Cease your astonishment,
therefore, unless you wish to fall into the lowest rank in my
estimation.
Having postulated the fact that I am the nephew of my uncle, I will now
return to the summarising of my situation. Well, my late uncle had come
to life again, but he wanted to keep all the advantages of his status as
a dead man, by obliging me to remain in possession of his property. I
had just said "good night" to him, while he was dreaming about his
camels. Nothing could be less complicated than that. If all that is not
in strict conformity with the character of Barbassou (Claude Anatole), I
know nothing about him. Nevertheless, it was only natural that the day
celebrated by his return should give birth to some other incidents of
importance.
I had just left my uncle, and was walking towards the library to write
at once to the notary, when Francis informed me that a woman from the
Kasre had been waiting an hour to see me. One of the Greek servants came
sometimes to the château, either with messages or to await my orders. I
concluded at once that, not having seen me either during the day or in
the evening, my little animals had grown anxious and were sending to
inquire after me. I went to my room, where Francis said the woman was.
As I entered I saw her standing up, motionless, near the window, wrapped
in her great black feridjié; but I had hardly shut the door behind me
when, all at once, I heard a cry and sobs. The feridjié fell down, and I
recognised Kondjé-Gul, who threw herself on to my neck and seized me in
her arms with signs of the deepest despair.
"Good gracious!" I said, "is that you? _You_ come here?"
Breathless and suffocated with tears, she could not answer me. I
guessed, rather than heard, these words:
"I have run away! I have come to die with you!"
"But you are mad, dear, quite mad!" I exclaimed. "Why should you die?
What has happened then?"
"Oh, we know all!" she continued. "Barbassou-Pasha has returned. He is a
terrible man. He is going to kill you; us also; Mohammed also!"
And raving with fear she clung to me with all her strength, just as if
she were already threatened with death.
"But, my dear child," I said, "this is all madness--who in the world has
told you such nonsense?"
"Mohammed. He heard of the Pasha's return--he has hidden himself."
"But my uncle is a very kind man--he adores me, and does not even intend
to see you. Nothing will be changed for us by his return."
Seeing me so calm, she was gradually reassured. Still she was too much
possessed by her Turkish notions to believe all at once in such a
departure from correct oriental usages.
"Well then," she said as she dried her tears, "he will only kill
Mohammed?"
"Not even Mohammed!" I exclaimed, with a smile. "Mohammed is a poor
coward, and I will give him a bit of my mind to-morrow, so that he
shan't worry you with any more nonsense of this kind."
"You don't mean it?" she replied. "Then he will only get a beating?"
I was about to protest, when I perceived by her first words that she
suspected I wanted to play upon her credulity. There was thus a danger
of reviving her worst fears, for she would not believe any more of my
assurances. I contented myself therefore with promising to intercede
with Barbassou-Pasha. Once convinced that Mohammed's punishment would
extend no further than his hind-quarters, she troubled herself no more
about it, but with the characteristic volatility of these little wild
creatures, began to chatter and examine all the things in my room,
touching and feeling everything with an insatiable curiosity.
"Come now, you must go home," I said to her, not wishing this little
excursion of hers to be discovered.
"Oh, no! Oh, no!" she cried, with childlike delight. "It's your home--do
let me look at it!"
"Oh, but you must go and comfort Zouhra, Nazli, and Hadidjé!"
"They are asleep," she said. "I want to stay a little time here alone
with you! Besides," she added, with a little frightened look still
lingering on her face, "suppose Barbassou-Pasha has been deceiving you,
suppose he is coming to kill you to-night?"
"But once more I tell you, dear, you are _mad!_"
"Well then, why send me back so soon?"
"Because it is not proper for you to leave the harem," I answered. "Come
along, off you go!"
"Oh, just a little longer!--I beg you, dear!" she said, with a kiss.
How could I resist her, my dear Louis? Tell me?
I sat down, watching her moving about and rummaging everywhere. I must
tell you that under her feridjié (which she had let down on my entrance
into the room), she was dressed in a sort of loose gown of pale blue
cashmere, embroidered with lively designs in silk and gold. Her
snow-white arms emerged from wide, hanging sleeves. This costume
produced a charming picturesque effect in the midst of my room, which,
although comfortable, was very prosaic in its style--although to her it
seemed wonderful. She touched everything, for she could not be satisfied
with seeing only, and her questions never ceased.... At last, after
half-an-hour, considering her curiosity to be satisfied, as she was
beginning to ransack the books lying on my table, I said once more,
"Come, Kondjé-Gul, you must go."
With these words, I picked up her feridjié, and took her back to the
harem. A pale light was shining through the windows of the drawing-room.
Hadidjé, Nazli, and Zouhra were still there. To describe the terror
which came over their faces directly I appeared, would be impossible.
Hearing steps in the night, they made sure their last moments had
arrived. At the sound of the door opening, they cried out loud--the
three poor miserable things took refuge in a corner.
When they saw me enter with Kondjé-Gul, they were thrown into a great
consternation. With a few words I reassured them at once.
As to Mohammed, it was impossible to find him. I will confess, moreover,
that I felt very little interest in searching for him--I was far from
ill-pleased with the thought that he was paying for the trouble which
his stupidity had caused my poor darlings, by a night of fear and
trembling.
My lamb having returned to the fold, I eventually retraced my steps to
the château.
Is it necessary to tell you that the surprising events of the day had
caused me emotions which I was scarcely able to understand?
My uncle's resurrection--
Lefébure--
The Changallas--
The camels--
They all kept my brain at work the whole night long.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]