"Who art thou?" came a voice.
"'Tis I, Abdullah," he said.
"Enter," said the voice.
"Not so," said Abdullah; "but come you out."
"Art thou alone?" asked the voice.
"No," replied Abdullah, "the man who keeps goats is here."
"I have no light," said the voice.
Abdullah took the taper from the table, opened the door six inches,
felt a warm soft hand meet his own, pressed it, left the taper in it,
closed the door, and groped in darkness to his seat.
"Father," he said, after some moments of silence, "_have_ women souls?"
"Doubtless," answered the priest.
"God help them," said Abdullah; "have they not trouble enough, without
souls to save?"
The two men sat silent in the darkness.
The door creaked, a line of light appeared; the door swung wide out,
and on the threshold stood Nicha, the taper in her hand.
The two men sat silent, gazing.
She had put off her outer costume of white linen and stood dressed for
the house, the seraglio. Upon her head was a _chachia_, a little velvet
cap, embroidered with seed-pearls. Her bust was clothed with a _rlila_,
or bolero of brocaded silk, beneath which was a vest of muslin, heavy
with gold buttons. About her slim waist was a _fouta_, or scarf of
striped silk. Below came the _serroual_, wide trousers of white silk
that ended mid-leg. Upon her feet were blue velvet slippers, pointed,
turned up at the toes and embroidered with gold. About her ankles were
_redeefs_, or bangles of emeralds, pierced, and strung on common
string. At her wrists hung a multitude of bangles, and on her bare left
arm, near the shoulder, was a gold wire that pinched the flesh, and
from it hung a filigree medallion that covered her crest, tattooed
beneath the skin. It is always so with the tribe of Ouled Nail.
This was the costume of the woman, but the woman herself, as she stood
in the doorway, the taper in her hand, who may describe her? Tall,
lithe, laughing--her black hair, braided, tied behind her neck, and
still reaching the ground; her eyebrows straight as though pencilled;
her ears small and closely set; her nose straight and thin, with
fluttering nostrils; her shoulders sloping; her bust firm and pulsating
beneath her linen vest; her slender waist; her little feet, in the blue
velvet slippers; the charm of breeding and of youth; the added charm of
jewels and of soft textures; what wonder that the two men sat silent
and gazing?
Abdullah spoke first. "Beloved," he said, "I have broken your night's
rest that you may have eternal rest."
The girl laughed. "That is a long way off," she said. "The cemetery,
with the cypress-trees, is beautiful, but this hut, with thee, is
better. Why did you wake me?"
"Because, since you slept," said Abdullah, "I have changed my
religion."
"Good," exclaimed the girl; "then I change mine. I am tired of a
religion that makes me plait my hair for eight hours of the day and
sends no man to see it."
"What religion do you choose?" asked Abdullah.
"Yours," said the girl, seating herself and dropping her hands,
interlaced, and covered with turquoise rings, about her knees; "why
should a woman question anything when her husband has passed upon it?"
"Did I not tell thee?" said Abdullah.
"Yes," said the priest, "but I waited for her own words."
"You have them now," said Abdullah, and they went out to the spring.
"I name thee Marie," said the priest, "since it is the name borne by
the Mother of our Lord."
"Ah," said the girl, "I was baptized Fathma, after the Mother of the
Prophet. There seems to be not so much difference thus far."
When the sacrament had been administered and they had returned to the
hut, the priest addressed his converts. "My children," he said, "in
order to do a great right I have done a little wrong. I have baptized
you into a religion that you know nothing of. How should you? You,
Abdullah--I beg your pardon, Philip--that was the name I gave you, was
it not?"
Abdullah bowed.
"You, Philip," resumed the priest, "have changed your religion to win a
woman whom you love; and you, Marie, have changed yours because the man
you love bade you. Neither of you knows anything of the faith you have
adopted. I have had no chance to instruct you; but one thing I declare
to you, the Christian religion tolerates but one husband and one wife."
Nicha rose, pale, hesitating. She stepped slowly into the light. Her
beauty added to the light.
"Beloved," she said, "knew you this?"
"No," he said, "but I know it now, and welcome it."
"Oh, my beloved," she cried, "to think that you are all my own, that I
do not have to share you," and she flung her arms about him.
"Hush," said the priest, "or, as Philip says, you will wake the
camels."
"Father," asked Abdullah, "will you now marry us, since we are
Christians?"
"I would," answered the priest, "but it is necessary to have two
witnesses."
Abdullah's face fell, but in an instant it brightened again. He went to
the door of the hut and stood, listening. In a moment he turned and
said, "Allah is good, or, rather, God is good. This new religion works
well. Here are our witnesses."
And, even as he spoke, there came out of the darkness the halt-cry of
the camel-driver.
"It is Ali," said Abdullah, "and Nicha's maid is with him. They have
caught us up."
He ran out and found the camels kneeling and Ali easing the surcingles.
"Ali," he cried, "you must change your religion."
"Willingly," said Ali; "what shall the new one be? The old one has done
little for me."
"Christian," said Abdullah.
"That suits me," said Ali; "under it one may drink wine, and one may
curse. It is a useful religion for a trader."
"And the maid?" asked Abdullah.
"We have travelled a day and a part of a night together," said Ali,
"and she will believe what I tell her to believe."
"The old religion is good in some respects," said Abdullah. "Call the
maid;" and they went to the hut.
"Here are the witnesses," said Abdullah, "ready to be Christians."
"It is not necessary," said the priest, "if they can make their mark;
that is all that is required."
So, in the little hut, before an improvised altar, they were
married--the camel-driver and the daughter of the Chief of Ouled Nail.
The next morning the caravan took up the march for Biskra.