When the Arab was at last admitted to the governor’s presence his
attendants unfolded a hanging before him. The giant Masdakite did the
chief share of the work; but as soon as the Mukaukas caught sight of the
big man, with his bushy, mane-like hair, and a dagger and a battle-axe
stuck through his belt, he cried out:
“Away, away with him! That man--those weapons--I will not look at the
hanging till he is gone.”
His hands were trembling, and the merchant at once desired his faithful
Rustem, the most harmless of mortals, to quit the room. The governor,
whose sensitive nerves had been liable to such attacks of panic ever
since an exiled Greek had once attempted to murder him, now soon
recovered his composure, and looked with great admiration at the hanging
round which the family were standing. They all confessed they had never
seen anything like it, and the vivacious Dame Susannah proposed to send
for her daughter and her visitors; but it was already late, and her
house was so far from the governor’s that she gave that up. The father
and son had already heard of this marvellous piece of work, which had
formed part of the plunder taken by the Arab conquerors of the Persian
Empire at the sack of the “White Tower”--the royal palace of Madam, the
capital of the Sassanidze. They knew that it had been originally 300
ells long and 60 ells wide, and had heard with indignation that the
Khaliff Omar, who always lived and dressed and ate like the chief of a
caravan, and looked down with contempt on all such objects of luxury,
had cut this inestimable treasure of art into pieces and divided it
among the Companions of the Prophet.
Haschim explained to them that this particular fragment had been the
share of the booty allotted to Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law. Haschim
himself had seen the work before its dismemberment at Madain, where it
hung on the wall of the magnificent throne-room, and subsequently, at
Medina.
His audience eagerly requested him to describe the other portions; he,
however, seemed somewhat uneasy, looking down at his bare feet which
were standing on the mosaic pavement, damp from the fountain; for, after
the manner of his nation, he had left his shoes in the outer room. The
governor had noticed the old man’s gestures as he repeatedly put
his hand to his mouth, and while his wife, Orion, and the widow were
besieging the merchant with questions, he whispered a few words to
one of the slaves. The man vanished, and returned bringing in, by his
master’s orders, a long strip of carpet which he laid in front of the
Arab’s brown and strong but delicately-formed feet.
A wonderful change came over the merchant’s whole being as this was
done. He drew himself up with a dignity which none of those present
had suspected in the man who had so humbly entered the room and so
diligently praised his wares; an expression of satisfaction overspread
his calm, mild features, a sweet smile parted his lips, and his kind
eyes sparkled through tears like those of a child unexpectedly pleased.
Then he bowed before the Mukaukas, touching his brow, lips and breast
with the finger-tips of the right hand to express: “All my thoughts,
words and feelings are devoted to you,”--while he said: “Thanks, Son of
Menas. That was the act of Moslem.”
“Of a Christian!” cried Orion hastily. But his father shook his head
gently, and said, slowly and impressively: “Only of a man.”
“Of a man,” repeated the merchant, and then he added thoughtfully: “Of a
man! Yes, that is the highest mark so long as we are what we ought to be
The image of the one God. Who is more compassionate than He? And every
mother’s son who is likewise compassionate, is like him.”
“Another Christian rule, thou strange Moslem!” said Orion interrupting
him.
“And yet,” said Haschim, with tranquil dignity, “it corresponds word
for word with the teaching of the Best of men--our Prophet. I am one of
those who knew him here on earth. His brother’s smallest pain filled
his soft heart with friendly sympathy; his law insists on charity, even
towards the shrub by the wayside; he pronounces it mortal sin to injure
it, and every Moslem must obey him. Compassion for all is the command
of the Prophet....” Here the Arab was suddenly and roughly interrupted;
Paula, who, till now, had been leaning against a pilaster, contemplating
the hanging and silently listening to the conversation, hastily stepped
nearer to the old man, and with flaming cheeks and flashing eyes pointed
at him wrathfully, while she exclaimed in a trembling voice-heedless
alike of the astonished and indignant bystanders, and of the little dog
which flew at the Arab, barking furiously:
“You--you, the followers of the false prophet--you, the companions of
the bloodhound Khalid--you and Charity! I know you! I know what you did
in Syria. With these eyes have I seen you, and your bloodthirsty women,
and the foam on your raging lips. Here I stand to bear witness against
you and I cast it in your teeth: You broke faith in Damascus, and the
victims of your treachery--defenceless women and tender infants as well
as men--you killed with the sword or strangled with your hands. You--you
the Apostle of Compassion?--have you ever heard of Abyla? You, the
friend of your Prophet--I ask you what did you, who so tenderly spare
the tree by the wayside, do to the innocent folk of Abyla, whom you
fell upon like wolves in a sheepfold? You--you and Compassionate!” The
vehement girl, to whom no one had ever shown any pity, and on whose
soul the word had fallen like a mockery, who for long hours had been
suffering suppressed and torturing misery, felt it a relief to give free
vent to the anguish of her soul; she ended with a hard laugh, and waved
her hand round her head as though to disperse a swarm of gadflies.
What a woman!
Orion’s gaze was fixed on her in horror--but in enchantment. Yes, his
mother had judged her rightly. No gentle, tender-hearted woman laughed
like that; but she was grand, splendid, wonderful in her wrath. She
reminded him of the picture of the goddess of vengeance, by Apelles,
which he had seen in Constantinople. His mother shrugged her shoulders
and cast a meaning glance at the widow, and even his father was startled
at the sight. He knew what had roused her; still he felt that he could
not permit this, and he recalled the excited girl to her senses by
speaking her name, half-reproachfully and half-regretfully, at first
quite gently but then louder and more severely.
She started like a sleep-walker suddenly awaked from her trance, passed
her hand over her eyes, and said, as she bowed her head before the
governor:
“Forgive me, Uncle, I am sorry for what has occurred--but it was
too much for me. You know what my past has been, and when I am
reminded--when I must listen to the praises even of the wretches to whom
my father and brother....”
A loud sob interrupted her; little Mary was clinging to her and weeping.
Orion could hardly keep himself from hastening to her and clasping her
in his arms. Ah, how well her woman’s weakness became the noble girl!
How strongly it drew him to her!
But Paula soon recovered from it; even while the governor was soothing
her with kind words she mastered her violent agitation, and said gently,
though her tears still quietly flowed: “Let me go to my room, I beg....”
“Good-night, then, child,” said the Mukaukas affectionately, and Paula
turned towards the door with a silent greeting to the rest of the party;
but the Moslem detained her and said:
“I know who you are, noble daughter of Thomas, and I have heard that
your brother was the bridegroom who had come to Abyla to solemnize his
marriage with the daughter of the prefect of Tripolis. Alas, alas! I
myself was there with my merchandise at the fair, when a maddened horde
of my fellow-believers fell upon the peaceful town. Poor child, poor
child! Your father was the greatest and most redoubtable of our foes.
Whether still on earth or in heaven he yet, no doubt honors our sword
as we honor his. But your brother, whom we sent to his grave as a
bridegroom--he cursed us with his dying breath. You have inherited his
rancor; and when it surges up against me, a Moslem, I can do no more
than bow my head and do penance for the guilt of those whose blood runs
in my veins and whose faith I confess. I have nothing to plead--no,
noble maiden, nothing that can excuse the deed of Abyla. There--there
alone it was the fate of my grey hairs to be ashamed of my
fellow-Moslems--believe me, maiden, it was grievous to me. War, and
the memory of many friends slain and of wealth lightly plundered had
unchained men’s passion; and where passion’s pinions wave, whether in
the struggle for mine and thine or for other possessions, ever since the
days of Cain and Abel, it is always and everywhere the same.”
Paula, who till now had stood motionless in front of the old man, shook
her head and said bitterly:
“But all this will not give me back my father and brother. You yourself
look like a kind-hearted man; but for the future--if you are as just as
you are kind--find out to whom you are speaking before you talk of the
compassion of the Moslems!”
She once more bowed good-night and left the room. Orion followed her;
come what might he must see her. But he returned a few minutes after,
breathing hard and with his teeth set. He had taken her hand, had tried
to tell her all a loving heart could find to say; but how sharply, how
icily had he been repulsed, with what an air of intolerable scorn had
she turned her back upon him! And now that he was in their midst again
he scarcely heard his father express his regrets that so painful a scene
should have occurred under his roof, while the Arab said that he could
quite understand why the daughter of Thomas should have been betrayed to
anger: the massacre of Abyla was quite inexcusable.
“But then,” the old man went on, “in what war do not such things take
place? Even the Christian is not always master of himself: you
yourself I know, lost two promising sons--and who were the murderers?
Christians--your own fellow-believers...”
“The bitterest foes of my beliefs,” said the governor slowly, and every
syllable was a calm and dignified reproof to the Moslem for supposing
that the creed of those who had killed his sons could be his. As
he spoke he opened his eyes wide with the look of those hard,
opaquely-glittering stones which his ancestors had been wont to set for
eyes in their portrait statues. But he suddenly closed them again and
said indifferently:
“At what price do you value your hanging? I have a fancy to buy it. Name
your lowest terms: I cannot bear to bargain.”
“I had thought of asking five hundred thousand drachmae,” said the
dealer. “Four hundred thousand drachmae, and it is yours.”
The governor’s wife clasped her hands at such a sum and made warning
signals to her husband, shaking her head disapprovingly, when Orion,
making a great effort to show that he too took an interest in this
important transaction, said: “It may be worth three hundred thousand.”
“Four hundred thousand,” repeated the merchant coolly. “Your father
wished to know the lowest price, and I am asking no more than is
right. The rubies and garnets in these grapes, the pearls in the myrtle
blossoms, the turquoises in the forget-me-nots, the diamonds hanging
as dew on the grass, the emeralds which give brilliancy to the green
leaves--this one especially, which is an immense stone--alone are worth
more.”
“Then why do you not cut them out of the tissue?” asked Neforis.
“Because I cannot bear to destroy this noble work,” replied the Arab. “I
will sell it as it is or not at all.” At these words the Mukaukas
nodded to his son, heedless of the disapprobation his wife persisted in
expressing, asked for a tablet which lay near the chessboard, and on it
wrote a few words.
“We are agreed,” he said to the merchant. “The treasurer, Nilus, will
hand you the payment to-morrow morning on presenting this order.”
A fresh emotion now took possession of Orion, and crying: “Splendid!
Splendid!” he rushed up to his father and excitedly kissed his hand.
Then, turning to his mother, whose eyes were full of tears of vexation,
he put his hand under her chin, kissed her brow, and exclaimed with
triumphant satisfaction: “This is how we and the emperor do business!
When the father is the most liberal of men the son is apt to look small.
Meaning no harm, worthy merchant! As far as the hanging is concerned,
it may be more precious than all the treasures of Croesus; but you have
something yet to give us into the bargain before you load your camels
with our gold: Tell us what the whole work was like before it was
divided.”
The Moslem, who had placed the precious tablet in his girdle, at once
obeyed this request.
“You know how enormous were its length and breadth,” he began. “The hall
it decorated could hold several thousand guests, besides space for
a hundred body guards to stand on each side of the throne. As many
weavers, embroiderers and jewellers as there are days in the year
worked on it, they say, for the years of a man’s life. The woven picture
represented paradise as the Persians imagine it--full of green trees,
flowers and fruits. Here you can still see a fragment of the sparkling
fountain which, when seen from a distance, with its sprinkling of
diamonds, sapphires and emeralds, looked like living water. Here the
pearls represent the foam on a wave. These leaves, cut across here,
belonged to a rose-bush which grew by the fountain of Eden before the
evil of the first rain fell on the world.
“Originally all roses were white, but as the limbs of the first woman
shone with more dazzling whiteness they blushed for shame, and since
then there are crimson as well as white roses. So the Persians say.”
“And this--our piece?” asked Orion.
“This,” replied the merchant, with a pleasant glance at the young man,
“was the very middle of the hanging. On the left you see the judgment
at the bridge of Chinvat. The damned were not represented, but only the
winged, Fravashi, Genii who, as the Persians believe, dwell one with
each mortal as his guardian angel through life, united to him but
separable. They were depicted in stormy pursuit of the damned--the
miscreant followers of Angramainjus, the evil Spirit, of whom you must
imagine a vast multitude fleeing before them. The souls in bliss, the
pure and faithful servants of the Persian divinity Auramazda, enter with
songs of triumph into the flower-decked pleasure-garden, while at their
feet the spirits were shown of those who were neither altogether cursed
nor altogether blessed, vanishing in humble silence into a dusky grove.
The pure enjoyed the gifts of paradise in peace and contentment.--All
this was explained to me by a priest of the Fire-worshippers. Here, you
see, is a huge bunch of grapes which one of the happy ones is about to
pluck; the hand is uninjured--the arm unfortunately is cut through; but
here is a splendid fragment of the wreath of fruit and flowers which
framed the whole. That emerald forming a bud--how much do you think it
is worth?”
“A magnificent stone!” cried Orion. “Even Heliodora has nothing to equal
it.--Well, father, what do you say is its value?”
“Great, very great,” replied the Mukaukas. “And yet the whole
unmutilated work would be too small an offering for Him to whom I
propose to offer it.”
“To the great general, Amru?” asked Orion.
“No child,” said the governor decidedly. “To the great, indivisible and
divine Person of Jesus Christ and his Church.”
Orion looked down greatly disappointed; the idea of seeing this splendid
gem hidden away in a reliquary in some dim cupboard did not please him:
He could have found a much more gratifying use for it.
Neither his father nor his mother observed his dissatisfaction, for
Neforis had rushed up to her husband’s couch, and fallen on her knees
by his side, covering his cold, slender hand with kisses, as joyful as
though this determination had relieved her of a heavy burden of dread:
“Our souls, our souls, George! For such a gift--only wait--you will be
forgiven all, and recover your lost peace!”
The governor shrugged his shoulders and said nothing; the hanging was
rolled up and locked into the tablinum by Orion; then the Mukaukas bid
the chamberlain show the Arab and his followers to quarters for the
night.