An agreeable surprise is something like sunshine in November; it warms
up the constitution, mentally and physically.
Such a surprise did Mrs Langley receive the morning that followed the
evening on which Achmet Dey and his Sultana held their private
conversation on the affairs of state. "Agnes!" she exclaimed, reading a
note with elevated eyebrows, "just fancy! here is an invitation for you
and me to dine with the Dey's wife or wives!"
"Oh! _won't_ that be delightful?" cried Agnes, coming from the court
into the room where her mother sat, with such a bound, that she filled
with sympathetic excitement the heart of the small negro girl from
beyond the Zahara, and caused her to rock the cradle too violently.
"There, you've bumped it again; I knew you would!" said Mrs Langley, in
tones of despair.
Poor Zubby's first awful glance of mingled deprecation and self-reproach
was so touching that no one but a hardened monster could have withstood
it; but the look, with the feelings which it implied, was short-lived.
It passed like a summer cloud, and was replaced by an expression of
supreme contentment and self-satisfaction when it became apparent that
Master Jim was _not_ going to awake, and that Mrs Langley's despair was
vanishing. Indeed, that lady's despair was at all times remarkably
short-lived. She had been trained in a school of dire adversity ever
since the arrival of the coal-black one from beyond the Zahara, and had
learned to hope against hope in an extraordinary degree in a case which
was absolutely hopeless, for, whatever others might think or hope, Zubby
knew herself to be incurable! Not that she was unwilling; on the
contrary, there never was a more obliging or amiable creature among the
sable daughters of Ham, but she had a tendency to forget herself, (as
well as her charge), in moments of sudden emotion or delight, and gave
way to burstlets of action, which, if slight, were always inopportune,
and sometimes, though not often, disastrous.
"We must get ready immediately," continued Mrs Langley, with a
cautioning shake of the head at Zubby, as she turned to Agnes; "because,
you know, we may as well take the opportunity to do a little shopping
before dinner."
"What! `shopping' in the pirate city?" we hear you exclaim, reader.
Yes, there _was_ shopping there in those days, though it did not bear
much resemblance to shopping in more civilised lands. There were no
wide fronts or plate-glass windows in those days. Indeed, then, as now,
a shop in the Moorish town might be fitly described as a hole in the
wall. It was, as it were, a deep window without an interior to speak
of. A square hole, six feet by six, and from four to ten feet deep,
without glazing or protection of any kind from the weather, except, in
some cases, an awning, was a fair average shop; one of eight feet
frontage was rather a "grand shop," and one of twelve feet was quite a
"bazaar."
Of course such shops were stuffed, like eggs, to an excess of fulness.
They gave one the impression that the goods had been packed into smaller
space than was possible, and that the introduction of another pin would
infallibly explode the whole affair. A passage among the goods in each
shop, just big enough to admit an ordinary man, was the scene of action
in which the owner disported. This passage did not begin at the street:
so much valuable space could not be afforded. A counter laden with
small wares had to be leapt in order to gain it, and a rope depending
from the ceiling rendered possible the acrobatic feat which was
necessary to do so. Purchasers had to stand in the streets and transact
business, the said streets being so narrow that there was no room for
lobbies or paved foot-paths. While engaged in traffic, buyers were
compelled more or less to block the way, and had their garments scraped
successively by Turks and Moors and veiled Mohammedan females, by
Cabyles from the mountains, negroes from Timbuctoo, white slaves from
almost every country in Europe, and donkeys of the most debased and
abject type,--these latter, by the way, being quite as capable as the
human--though not humane--beings who drove them of going up and down
stairs. No slope short of a perpendicular dead wall appeared to be able
to stop them, and no wonder, poor wretches! for no torture short of
total destruction was spared them.
Ah! ye members of the "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals"
in Algiers, forgive us if we interject here the observation that there
is earnest need for your activities at the present day!
Followed by the faithful though uncontrollable Zubby, with a huge
triangular grass basket, Mrs Langley entered the tortuous streets of
the city, and proceeded to "shop."
Fear not, reader! It is not our purpose to drag you through the details
of the too well-known process. We pass onward to matters more
important.
Having traversed several streets in which Moors sat cross-legged,
embroidering purses and slippers with gold, in holes in the wall so
small that a good-sized bust might have objected to occupy them; where
cobblers, in similar niches, made and repaired round-toed shoes of
morocco leather, and the makers of horn rings for fingers, wrists, arms
and ankles wrought as deftly with their toes as with their fingers;
where working silversmiths plied their trade in precious metals and gems
in a free-and-easy open-air fashion that would have made the mouth of a
London thief water; and where idle Arabs sipped coffee and smoked the
live-long day, as though coffee and tobacco were the aim and end of
life--which latter they proved indeed to many of them,--Mrs Langley
with Agnes, followed by Zubby, paused before a niche in which were
displayed for sale a variety of curious old trinkets of a nondescript
and utterly useless character. In short, it appeared to be an Algerine
curiosity-shop. Here, while bargaining with the owner for some small
articles, she was surprised to hear a voice at her ear say in French--
"Madame, good morning; I have great pleasure in this unexpected
meeting."
She turned hastily, and found the Danish consul standing by her side.
"Ah, monsieur," she said, returning his salutation, "it is indeed seldom
that I wander alone through this labyrinth, but necessity compels me.
An English friend wishes me to send her a few characteristic articles,
and I can trust no one to choose them for me. But, you look anxious."
"Yes, excuse me," replied the Danish consul in haste, glancing round.
"I am followed, persecuted I may say. I had intended to call for your
husband to-day to beg him to use his influence with the Dey in my
behalf, but I cannot--circumstances--in short, will you kindly mention
to him that I am in trouble because of the non-payment of the tribute
due by our Government, and--"
Breaking off suddenly, the Danish consul bowed low and hurried away.
Mrs Langley observed that, immediately after, a chaouse, or executioner
of the palace, passed her.
This incident induced her to conclude her shopping rather quickly, and
furnished her with food for thought which entirely engrossed her mind
until Agnes exclaimed--
"Oh mamma, look! look! they're going to shave a little boy!"
Mrs Langley, directed by Agnes's finger, looked and found that this was
indeed true. A little boy, between eight and nine years of age, was
seated in a barber's shop near them, with a towel about his neck,
glancing timidly, yet confidently, in the face of an elderly man who
advanced towards him with an open razor, as though about to cut his
throat. As it turned out, however, neither throat nor chin were in
danger of violation. It was the head that the barber attacked, and this
he scraped quite bare, without the aid of soap, leaving only a tuft of
hair on the top. This tuft, we have been informed, is meant as a handle
by means of which the owner may, after death, be dragged up into heaven!
but we rather incline to the belief that it is left for the purpose of
keeping the red fez or skull-cap on the head.
Be this as it may, no sooner did the urchin behold Mrs Langley, than,
casting aside the towel and ignoring the barber, he rushed out and
exclaimed--in a compound of French, Arabic, and Lingua Franca, of which
we give a free translation--
"Oh, missus, me massr, console Dansh, vants see ver moch your hosbund!"
"Thank you; I know it," replied Mrs Langley, giving the boy a small
coin and a bright smile.
Quite satisfied that he had fulfilled his duty, the urchin returned to
the barber and the lady proceeded to the palace.
Here she was received ceremoniously by the father of Ashweesha, Sidi
Cadua, a mild, gentle-spirited, little old Turk, who would have made a
very fine old English gentleman, but who was about as well fitted to be
father-in-law to an Algerine Dey, and a man of position in the pirate
city, as he was to be Prime Minister to the man in the moon.
Sidi Cadua conducted her to the seraglio, where she was heartily
welcomed by the ladies, who expressed their delight at meeting her with
girlish glee. Ashweesha laughingly said that she was glad to see Agnes
had become a Mohammedan, on which Mrs Langley related what
circumstances had caused the change, and the Sultana listened to the
recital with tears of laughter running down her cheeks.
The English lady had naturally expected something gorgeous in the
palace, but she was not prepared for the lavish display of wealth that
met her eyes everywhere.
She found the Sultana and her six beautiful children in a room which,
though not imposing in size, glittered with decoration. The ceiling and
walls were rich with tessellated and arabesque work. The floor was
covered with a carpet of cut velvet, with a pattern of the richest and
most brightly-coloured flowers; and this carpet was strewn with costly
jewels, which shone in the variegated light of the stained-glass windows
above like glowing fire-flies. Around the walls were several recesses
or niches, arched in the Moorish horse-shoe style. In one of these was
a glass cabinet, on the shelves of which were some splendid articles of
jewellery. In another recess hung a variety of swords and pistols,
chiefly of Eastern manufacture, their handles and scabbards blazing with
diamonds. Opposite to these stood a gilt four-post European bedstead,
with four mattresses of gold brocade, and curtains of blue tiffany
embroidered with gold sprigs. In fact, the apartment and its occupants
were adorned with so much magnificence that the genie of Aladdin's
famous lamp would not have improved it, for, although that remarkable
personage might have brought unlimited treasure to its decoration, he
would not have found a spare inch anywhere on which to bestow it!
The Sultana and her children were alone, with the exception of
half-a-dozen beautiful Georgian slaves, and one or two negresses, who
attended on them. Of course no gentlemen were present!
"My husband is very fond of yours," said Ashweesha, with a pleasant
smile, leading her guests to a large cushion on the floor, and squatting
them down beside her.
"It gratifies me much to hear you say so," replied Mrs Langley.
They spoke in a jargon of languages, and made up their deficiencies by
signs, of which we dare not attempt a characteristic translation.
"He sent you a new slave-girl lately, I believe?" said the Sultana,
beginning to feel her way.
"Yes," exclaimed the guest with animation, "it was _very_ kind of him;
and I find her _so_ sweet and amiable, and useful too. She assists me
with my dear baby so admirably, as well as with the household, that I
begin already to feel as if I could not get on without her. Do you know
I have set my heart on raising sufficient money to ransom her and set
her free?"
"Then you will only lose her, for she will certainly go home to her
husband," observed Ashweesha, with a look of simplicity.
"Of course; I count on that," returned Mrs Langley. "You know that we
Christians differ from Mohammedans widely on the point of slavery; and I
am sure," she added playfully, "you will not think me rude when I say
that I mean to take advantage of your laws, and procure the ransom of as
many slaves as possible during my residence here."
"If you had the wealth of a king," said Ashweesha, with a smile, "you
could not ransom the half of them, they are so numerous."
"I am too well aware of that," rejoined the other sadly; "nevertheless,
that does not exempt me from my duty. In the laws of my heavenly King
and Saviour Jesus Christ it is written--`Whatsoever thy hand findeth to
do, do it with thy might.'"
The Sultana bent a keen look of interest on her guest, and was about to
reply, but seemed to change her mind, and said:--
"It was Sidi Hassan, I am told, who brought in this slave-girl; and, by
the way, I hear that he has become your janissary. Do you like him?"
"I have seen so little of him that I can hardly tell.--You have walked
with him in the garden, Agnes, several times; what do _you_ think of
him?"
"I don't like him at _all_!" answered Agnes, with powerful emphasis.
Both ladies laughed, and so did the six little daughters of the Sultana,
who had maintained a dignified silence while their elders were
conversing.
"My little girl is rather given to take hasty prejudices," said Mrs
Langley apologetically.
"Does your husband find him useful?" continued the Sultana, returning to
the charge.
"No doubt he does, but I really cannot say, for my husband has only
mentioned him casually, and I never venture to speak of his business
affairs unless called on to do so. The fact that Sidi Hassan has been
much oftener in town than at our residence since he was sent to us, may
account for my slight knowledge about him."
"Oh! he has been very often in town, has he?" exclaimed Ashweesha.
Before Mrs Langley could reply, an attendant announced that dinner was
served in the adjoining room, whereupon the Georgian slaves were ordered
to pick up the jewels that strewed the carpet. This they did, and,
having locked them in the glass cabinet before mentioned, followed the
party into the dining-room.
It was a somewhat peculiar dinner in many respects. There was great
variety. Meat, poultry, pastry, and sweatmeats of strange kinds and
forms, succeeded each other, and were done full justice to by all
present. It was like a glimpse of paradise to little Agnes; for, having
been brought up in the simplest of styles, and forbidden pastry and
sweatmeats altogether since the day of her birth, she absolutely
revelled in new sensations.
It must not be supposed that she violently broke through all restraints
on this occasion; but her mother saw that if old rules were enforced,
the child would be confused by the conflicting entreaties of her
hostesses and the denials of her mother, while the Sultana might be
offended. Mrs Langley, therefore, gave her _carte-blanche_ to eat what
she pleased.
The party all sat on embroidered cushions on the floor, round a small
low table made of silver and mother-of-pearl. On this, each dish was
placed separately; and all ate out of the same dish, after the Moorish
fashion. The spoons were made of rosewood, tipped with amber, and the
napkins were richly embroidered in gold, silver, and variously coloured
silk on a curiously-wrought linen ground. All the vessels used were of
the most elaborate and costly description, and we need scarcely add that
the viands were good. Among other things there was fish, which was
served and eaten with honey! but the chief among the dishes was
kooskoos. This was the _piece de resistance_ of the Moorish
dinner-table, the substance on which the ladies chiefly fed and
flourished. To be fat was, in those days, the most desirable attribute
of a wife in the eyes of an Algerine husband, therefore kooskoos was
eaten in quantity. It was made largely of flour, rolled, in some
mystical manner, into the form of little pellets, like small sago; this,
boiled with butter and other fatty substances, with bits of meat and
chicken, and other viands mixed through it,--the whole being slightly
seasoned and spiced,--was deemed food fit for a Sultana.
During the meal they became very chatty, and the young people paid much
attention to Agnes, who, being a sensitively good girl, felt, every time
that she experienced a new taste, as though she were breaking all the
Ten Commandments, notwithstanding the permission of her mother!
Several times Ashweesha turned the conversation on the home affairs of
her guests, and attempted to gain further information about Sidi
Hassan's doings, but found, much to her annoyance, that Mrs Langley
knew little more than she had already communicated. Her good-humour
was, however, restored by that lady's unaffected admiration of the
numerous lovely things by which she was surrounded. She specially
praised the splendid napkins and the spoons before referred to, and when
they rose from table, the Sultana presented her and Agnes with those
that they had used.
After giving them coffee and making another vain attempt to extract
information, Ashweesha dismissed her guests, who returned home charmed
with the novelty of their reception and entertainment.