Events had succeeded each other with such strange rapidity since the day
before, that I felt like one walking in a dream. First, Kondjé-Gul's
revelations of her mother's duplicity, then my discussion with Daniel,
and now finally this cynical dialogue with the Circassian, in the course
of which she had just confessed her schemes quite openly; all these
things had given such a succession of rude shocks to my spirit, which
had been reposing until then in the tranquil assurance of undisturbed
happiness, that I had hardly found time to estimate the extent of my
misfortune. Overwhelmed with distress when I perceived the possibility
of losing Kondjé-Gul, I almost thought I should go mad. I made a
desperate struggle against the despair which was taking possession of my
mind. It was necessary for me to carry on the contest in order to defend
my very soul and life, yet I felt my soul slipping out of control. Like
a mystic fascinated by his vision, I might have allowed myself to be
deluded by a vain mirage of security, for I had never imagined that my
rights could be disputed. I had been living in the peaceful but foolish
confidence that I could obtain redress, when necessary, by the sword,
for my rival's presumption.
And now I had woke up in consternation at finding myself caught in this
stupid trap which I had permitted them to set in my path. Kondjé-Gul's
mother had become Kiusko's accomplice. How was I to defeat this
conspiracy between two minds animated by consuming passions, resolute
and pitiless, who were determined not to be deterred by any scruples or
any sense of honour? I could now see my weakness; I was paralysed and
defenceless against this wretched woman who, in order to constrain her
daughter and dispose of her future, had only to claim her legal
authority over her. She could take her from me, and carry her away. Once
back in Turkey, supported by the horrible laws of Islam, all she need do
was to sell her to Kiusko and thus give her up to him.
My mind was struck by a sudden idea. Was it not the height of folly on
my part to give way to childish alarms, and to defer action until after
Kiusko and the Circassian had matured their plans? Was it not possible
for me to escape, carrying Kondjé-Gul off with me, and placing her out
of reach of their pursuit?
As soon as this idea had taken possession of my mind, it fixed itself
there, and soon developed into a resolution. I felt surprised that it
had not occurred to me earlier, and decided to put it into execution
that very day. I knew that Kondjé-Gul would follow me, for we had often
cherished the idea of taking a journey together alone, and I had
promised her we would carry it out some day. In order to assure our
successful escape, I resolved to give her no notice beforehand, lest she
should let it out to her mother.
It was necessary, however, to provide for the consequences of this
disappearance, and the gossip which would inevitably result in
connection with it. Well, after a good deal of hesitation, I confided
the whole matter to my uncle.
"You old stupid!" said he to me, "why, I have known all about your
little love-knot for the last six months!"
"What! do you mean to say you knew that Kondjé-Gul?--"
"Lord bless you! Don't you suppose that I heard enough from Mohammed to
make me keep my eyes open?"
After I had come to a complete understanding with my uncle, I made my
own arrangements. I was expected to dinner at Kondjé's that day. I found
her quite sad; and on the pretext of giving her some distraction, I
ordered the carriage at about half-past eight, as if for a drive to the
Bois. We started off.
As soon as we were alone, she said to me:
"Good gracious, André! whatever has been passing between you and my
mother? I am worried to death. She has been talking again to me about my
departure with her, and Fanny believes that she is making her
preparations for it already.--She is going to carry me away."
"All right, never mind her!" I answered with a laugh; "you're out of
danger already."
"How so?"
"I'm taking you away! You won't go back to the house, for we are off to
Fontainebleau, where we shall both of us remain in concealment, while
watching events."
Need I describe to you her joy? In the Champs Elysées we got out, as if
in order to walk, and I sent back the carriage. An hour after this, a
cab set us down at the railway station!
We spent a delightful week in the forest, playing truant. Fanny, who is
a reliable girl, has joined us here. We really had a narrow escape; for
it seems that Madame Murrah had, the very day we made our flight, got
everything planned for leaving the day after. When she found in the
morning that Kondjé-Gul was gone, she nearly had a fit. Kiusko came to
the house, being sent for at once; all of which pretty clearly
indicates an understanding between them. The Circassian of course rushed
after me to the Rue de Varennes, noisily demanding her daughter. So my
aunt got to know all about it! My uncle, whom I had taken into my
confidence, put them at once completely off the scent, by replying that
I had started for Spain.
We are safe! Everything has been accomplished, as if by enchantment. For
fifteen days past my Kondjé-Gul has been settled in a charming cottage
at Ermont, in the middle of the forest, hidden away like a daisy in a
field of standing corn. She has disappeared from view, leaving no more
traces behind her than a bird in its flight through the air; and I am
back in Paris, as if I had just returned from a journey. I have sent
word to Madame Murrah that her daughter, having resolved to become a
Christian, has taken refuge in a remote convent. You may picture to
yourself her rage; but, as she is henceforth powerless, I fear her no
more. Being a foreigner, and in her precarious position, she cannot
venture to charge me with abduction, and, as you may imagine, I am not
likely to let her take us by surprise. In order to get rid of her, I
have offered to give her an annuity to live in Turkey, but she has
declined it.
There can be no doubt that Kiusko guides her, and that they have by no
means given up their game, but are ready to resort to any violence. You
may be sure I keep a sharp eye on them, and am prepared for them. The
contest, however, is too unequal for me to alarm myself very much. My
uncle, who never troubles himself much with legal scruples, telegraphed
to a couple of his old sailors, Onésime and Rupert, to come up from
Toulon: they were born on our Férouzat estate, and are, moreover, his
"god-children." They are ridiculously like him, except that one of them
is two inches taller than the captain. Their godfather has installed
them at Ermont, and I don't mind betting that, with a couple of
strapping fellows like them about the place, any attempt at carrying off
Kondjé-Gul in my absence would meet with a few trifling obstacles!
As to myself, I defy them to get on my scent.
Being accustomed to taking morning rides, I could find my way to our
happy cottage home by various routes, starting from opposite sides of
the city. Once on the road, it was impossible to follow me, even at a
distance; for I should soon recognize any one on horseback who appeared
too inquisitive about my journey. Moreover, if these tactics failed, the
pace at which Star goes would easily baffle any pertinacious pursuit. I
often stay for two or three days at this delicious retreat. My uncle
delights in coming there from time to time to take his madeira.
In short, after the little adventures we have lately gone through, we
are now leading a very pleasant existence.
You can see what a simple matter it is.
My famous system, you will tell me, has come to grief. Here I am, all
forlorn, among the ruins of my harem, running my head against
impossibilities opposed to our laws, morals, and conventionalities, with
my last sultana leaning on my arm; here I am, like some little St.
John,[B] reduced to shady expedients in order to get a minute's
interview with my mistress, imprisoned in her tower. I am trembling
between our caresses, you will say, lest a commissary of police should
come to cut the golden thread upon which my remaining blisses hang, and
force me by legal authority to give back Kondjé-Gul to her cruel mother.
[Footnote B: Referring to a familiar French nursery-legend similar
to that of Santa Claus.--_Trans._]
Well, my dear friend, I will answer you very briefly, I am in love! Yes,
I am in love! These words are a reply, I think, to everything; although
I must own that fear of the commissary, which certainly does threaten my
felicity, has considerably humbled my Oriental pride--I am in love! I
have burnt my essay for the Academy.
Well, then, I have abjured my polygamy. What more can I say to you?
To-day I must confide to you a most valuable discovery I have made; for
I beg you to believe that love is not, as so many foolish people
imagine, an extinguisher to the fire of the human intellect. On the
contrary, it stimulates the perceptions; and an enthusiastic lover, who
is familiar with the elements of science, can extend therein his field
of observations quite as easily as persons whose hearts are whole.
As an example of this, then, I have just been realising the beauty of a
charming phenomenon of nature--a most ordinary one, and yet one which so
far has remained, I think, completely unobserved. I refer to the spring!
As a great artist, you of course know, as well as any one in the world,
that this is the season which leads from the winter to the summer; but
what I feel sure you don't know is the full charm of this transitory
period, in which the whole forest awakens, in which the bushes sprout,
and the young birds twitter in their nests!
According to Vauvenargues, "The first days of spring possess less charm
than the growing virtue of a young man."
Well, it would ill befit me to depreciate the value of such an axiom,
coming from the pen of such a great philosopher; still, and without
wishing to disdain his politeness in so far as it is really flattering
to myself at this particular moment of my career, I do not hesitate to
raise my voice after his, and assert, without any pretence of modesty,
that this charm is at least as great in the case of Flora's lover as in
mine, and that it is only fair to accord to each his just portion. If my
budding virtue possesses ineffable charms, no less powerful are those of
the lilacs and the roses. It is really, I assure you, a wonderful
spectacle. You ought to have witnessed it! Some day I will tell you all
about it, as I have just been doing to my uncle, who finds it all very
curious, although he professes only to understand me "very
approximately."
Getting up at sunrise, Kondjé and I take a run through the coppices, her
little feet all wet with the dew. We feel free, merry, and careless,
dismissing the commissary to oblivion, and trusting to each other's
love, the full charms of which this solitary companionship has revealed
to us. I do not risk more than two excursions to Paris each week, one to
my aunt Eudoxia's, and one to my aunt Van Cloth's. Having made these
angel's visits, and performed various family duties, I vanish, by day or
by night as the case may be, eluding the vigilance of the spies who have
no doubt been set at my heels by the unscrupulous mother, or by _that
rascal Kiusko_, as we now call him. These adventures augment my
rapturous felicity; and if time and destiny have shorn me of the
privilege of my sultanship, which you say rendered me so proud and vain,
I retain at all events the glory of being happy.
I am in love, my dear fellow; and therefore I dream and forget. But
there is another still darker speck on my serene sky. Anna Campbell is
just approaching her eighteenth birthday, and I cannot think of this
without a good deal of melancholy. Although my uncle is delighted to
take occasional walks here, at the end of which he finds a capital glass
of madeira waiting for him, he, as you are aware, is not a person of
romantic temperament, and has already noted with his scrutinising eye
the ravages caused by a double passion, which bodes no good for his
daughter's married life.
The other night, on my return from my aunt Van Cloth's, he questioned me
very seriously on the subject. As to my disappointing his hopes, he
knows that the idea of such a thing would not even occur to me. That is
a matter of honour between us.
I spoke of a further delay before preparing my poor Kondjé-Gul for the
blow. He seemed touched at this token of the sincerity of my entirely
filial devotion to him.
The commissary has at last come; we have been discovered!
Yesterday afternoon we were sitting in the garden, under the shade of a
little clump of trees. My uncle, in a big arm-chair, was smoking and
listening, while I read to him the newspapers, which had just been
brought to us. Suddenly Kondjé-Gul, who was standing a few steps off
from us, arranging the plants for her window, uttered a suppressed cry,
and I saw her run up to me all at once, pale and trembling.
"What's the matter, dear?" I said to her.
"Look there! look there!" she answered, in a terrified voice, pointing
towards the house, "my mother!"
At the same moment, on the door-step of the cottage, through which she
had passed, and found it empty, appeared the Circassian.
She was accompanied by a man.
"This is my daughter, sir," she said to him.
I sprang forward to throw myself in front of Kondjé-Gul.
"Come, don't agitate yourself, my dear fellow!" said my uncle. "Do me
the favour of keeping quiet!"
Then, rising up as he would to receive guests, he walked a few steps
towards Madame Murrah, who had advanced towards us, and addressing
himself to the man, said to him:
"Will you inform me, sir, to what I am indebted for the honour of this
visit from you?"
"I am a Commissary of Police, sir, and am deputed by the court to assist
this lady, who has come to demand the restitution of her daughter,
illegally harboured by you at your house."
"Very well, sir," continued my uncle; "I am delighted to see you! But be
so kind, if you please, as to walk into the house, where we can consider
your demand more comfortably than in this garden."
"Take care," said the Circassian to the commissary: "they want to
contrive her escape!"
"Nothing of the sort, my dear madam," replied my uncle: "this gentleman
will tell you that we could not venture to do such a thing in his
presence. Your daughter will remain with us to answer any questions
which may be put to her. I am taking her arm, and if you will kindly
follow us, I shall have the honour of showing you the way."
Onésime and Rupert might be distinguished in the dim perspective,
waiting apparently for a signal from the captain to remove both the
commissary and the unwelcome lady visitor.
Our hearts were beating fast: Kondjé-Gul could hardly restrain her
feelings. We went in, and my uncle, as calm as ever, offered chairs to
Madame Murrah and to the emissary of justice. Then he addressed him
again, saying:
"May I inquire, sir, whether you are provided with a formal warrant
authorizing you to employ force to take this young lady away, according
to her mother's wish?"
"I have the judge's order!" exclaimed Madame Murrah with vehemence.
"Excuse me, excuse me," continued my uncle, "but let us avoid all
confusion! Be so kind, if you please, madam, as to permit the commissary
to answer my question. We are anxious to observe the respect which we
owe to his office."
I felt done for. How could we resist the law? My poor Kondjé cast
despairing looks at me.
"Madame Murrah being a foreigner, sir," answered the officer of the law,
"as you appear to understand, my only instructions are to accompany her,
and, in the event of opposition being made to her rights, to draw up a
report in order to enable her to bring an action against you in a court
of justice."
"Ah!" continued my uncle. "Well, then, sir! you may proceed, if you
please, to take down our replies. In the first place, then, the young
lady formally declines to return to her mother."
"That's false!" said the Circassian. "She is my daughter, and belongs
only to me! She will obey me, for she knows that I shall curse her
if----"
"Let us be quite calm, if you please, and have no useless words!"
replied my uncle. "It is your daughter's turn to reply.--Ask her, sir."
The commissary then addressed himself to Kondjé-Gul, repeating the
question. I saw her turn pale and hesitate, terror-stricken by her
mother's looks.
"Do you want to leave me, then?" I said to her passionately.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. Then turning towards the commissary, she added
in a firm voice: "I do not wish to go with my mother, sir."
At this the Circassian rose up in a fury.
Kondjé-Gul fell on her knees before her, supplicating her with tears, in
piteous tones.
In my alarm I rushed forward.
"Get her out of the room; take her away!" my uncle said to me sharply.
My poor Kondjé-Gul resisted, so I took her up in my arms and carried her
out. At the door I found Fanny, who had come up, and I left my darling
in her care.
Madame Murrah darted forward to follow her daughter, but my uncle had
seized her by the wrist, and forcing her down again, said to her in
Turkish:
"We have not finished; and if you stir, beware!"
"Sir," exclaimed the Circassian, addressing the officer of the law, "you
see how violently they are treating me, and how they are threatening
me!"
All this had taken place so quickly that the commissary hardly had time
to intervene with a gesture. Onésime and Rupert were strolling about
outside the window.
"Excuse me for having sent this child out, sir," continued my uncle;
"but you are, I believe, sufficiently acquainted already with her
decision. Moreover, she is there to reply afresh to you, if you desire
to question her alone, secure from all influence and pressure. It
remains for me to speak now upon a subject which she ought not to hear
mentioned. After her refusal to follow her mother, which she has just
given so clearly, be so good as to add on your report that I also refuse
very emphatically to give her up to her."
"You have no right to rob me of my daughter," exclaimed the Circassian,
who was nearly delirious with rage.
"That is just the point we are about to discuss," replied my uncle.
"Firstly, then, allow me to introduce myself to you, sir," he continued,
quite calmly; "and to explain my position and rights in this matter. My
name is _The Late_ Barbassou, ex-General and Pasha in the service of His
Majesty the Sultan--ranks which entitle me to the privileges of a
Turkish subject."
The commissary smiled and nodded to him, thus indicating that the name
of Barbassou-Pasha was already known to him.
"As a consequence of these rights, sir," continued my uncle, "my private
transactions cannot come before the French courts; so that this affair
must be settled entirely between Madame Murrah and myself. I should
even add, while expressing to you my regrets for the inconvenience which
it is causing you, that it is I who have brought about this very
necessary interview. I presented myself twice at Madame Murrah's house
in Paris, with the object of bringing this stupid business to a
conclusion. For reasons, no doubt, which you are already in a position
to estimate, she refused to see me. I arranged, therefore, that she
should be informed yesterday that her daughter was concealed in this
house; and I came here at once myself, in order to have the pleasure of
meeting the lady. There you have the whole story."
"I refused to see you," said Kondjé-Gul's mother, "simply because I do
not know you! And I ask the judge to order the restitution of my
daughter, which the Ambassador of our Sultan supports me in demanding. I
have his order to this effect."
Here the commissary intervened, and, addressing my uncle, whose
imperturbable composure quite astounded me, said gravely:
"Would you oblige me, sir, by stating your motive for refusing to give
up this young lady to her mother? According to our laws, as you are
aware, this is a circumstance which, notwithstanding the purely
voluntary character of my mandate, I am bound to enter in my report."
"Certainly, sir," replied my uncle, "your request is a very proper one,
and I will at once reply to it, as I would have done in the presence of
the consul of His Excellency the Turkish Ambassador, were it not that
Madame Murrah has strong motives for avoiding such an explanation before
him, between good Mussulmans like herself and me."
"I understand you," continued the commissary, suppressing another smile
at this declaration of Barbassou-Pasha.
"Sir," added my uncle, "I have the advantage of being a Mahometan; and
according to the special customs of my country, with which you are
acquainted, this lady sold me her daughter by a straightforward and
honourable contract, sanctioned by our usages, recognized and supported
by our laws: these laws formally enjoin me to protect her, and to
maintain her always in a position corresponding with my own rank and
fortune, while they forbid me ever to abandon her. Under the same
contract this lady duly received her 'gift' or legitimate remuneration,
which had been estimated, fixed, and agreed to by her. Therefore, as you
will perceive, sir," he added, "no discussion in this case would ever be
listened to by an Ottoman tribunal, and Madame Murrah's suit would be
ignominiously dismissed."
"We are in France," said Madame Murrah, "and my daughter has become
free!"
"To conclude, sir," continued my uncle, without taking any notice of
this objection, "this lady and I are both subjects of His Majesty the
Sultan. Ours is simply a private dispute between fellow-Turks, coming
entirely under the jurisdiction of our national tribunals, and is one in
which your French courts, as you will understand, have no authority to
interfere."
"You are not my daughter's husband!" exclaimed the Circassian; "she does
not belong to you any longer, for you have given her to your nephew, a
Giaour, an infidel!"
"Quite true, madam!" replied my uncle. "But," he continued, "these are
details in a private dispute, with which this gentleman is not
concerned. And I fancy he has by this time obtained sufficient
information."
"Certainly, sir," said the officer of the law, rising from his seat. "I
have taken down your replies, and my mission is accomplished."
Barbassou-Pasha, upon this conclusion, saluted him in his most dignified
manner and conducted him out with every polite attention.
The Circassian, exasperated beyond measure, had not moved: rage was
depicted on her whole countenance, and she looked like one determined to
fight it out to the bitter end.
"I must insist upon speaking to my daughter," she said passionately,
"and then we shall see!"
Just as he caught these words, my uncle came in, leading my poor
Kondjé-Gul by the hand.
"Come, you silly old fool," he said to Madame Murrah, changing his tone
quite suddenly, "you can see now that there is nothing left to you but
to submit. Swallow all your stupid threats! You will make a good thing
out of it all the same--for I give your daughter in marriage to my
nephew!"
I thought I must have misunderstood him.
"Uncle!" I exclaimed, "what did you say?"
"Why, you rascal, I see that I must give her to you, since you love each
other so consumedly!"
Kondjé-Gul could not repress a scream of joy. We both threw ourselves
into my uncle's arms at the same time.
"Yes," he said, "what a jolly couple they look! But it was your aunt
Eudoxia who led me at last to play this card! Here I am nicely balked of
all my fine schemes!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Kondjé-Gul, "we will love each other so much!"
"Well, well! There, they're quite smothering me! May the good God bless
you! go along. But now we shall have to come to an understanding with
this excellent mother; for according to these infernal French laws,
which complicate everything, her consent is necessary for your
marriage."
"I certainly shall not give it," said Madame Murrah furiously.
"All right! We will see about that," he continued. "That is a matter to
be arranged between us, and for that purpose I shall go to your house
to-morrow. Only, I give you warning, no noise, please, no silly attempts
to carry off your daughter, otherwise we shall wait until she is of age
in two years' time, and then you will have nothing."
Don't be surprised, Louis, if for the rest of this page I scrawl like a
monkey. At the recollection of this scene, my eyes are quite obscured
by a veil of mist. By Jove, so much the worse! for now it's all breaking
into real tears.
Dear me, what a brick of an uncle he is to me!
Notwithstanding Barbassou-Pasha's Turkish tactics, and in spite of the
happiness which for the moment quite overwhelmed us, my poor Kondjé-Gul
began to tremble again with fear after the departure of her mother, whom
we knew to be capable of any mad act. We decided that, in order to avoid
a very real danger, we would take her that very day to the convent of
the Ladies of X.; this we did. Before she becomes my wife she is going
to become a Christian, in pursuance of the wish which, as you know, she
has expressed a long time since, of embracing my faith. This visit,
which will account to the world for her disappearance, will be explained
quite naturally by this _finale_ of our marriage; and if people ever
discover anything about this queer story of our amours, well--I shall
have married my own slave, that's all.
Eh? What? You incorrigible carper! Is it not, after all, a charming
romance?
A fortnight has passed since the intervention of the commissary. Kiusko
has gone: he disappeared one morning. My aunt Eudoxia, who has taken us
under her special care, goes to see Kondjé-Gul every day at the convent.
She is charming in her kindness to us, but still we have our anxieties.
The negotiation of the maternal consent is an arduous task, for the
Circassian makes absurd pretensions; my uncle, however, undertakes to
bring her down.
What will you say next, I wonder? That I am reduced to buying my own
wife? I flatter myself that I shall find happiness in that bargain! How
many others are there, who have done the same, that could say as much as
that?
[Illustration]
[Illustration]