tolerate such continual fault-finding any longer! That is a tattoo
mark of a pail of water--you may not know that we have a rhyme in
England which begins like this:
"Jack and Jill went up a hill
To fetch a pail of water!"
Oh! shades of ancient Egypt, did you ever hear or see anything so
pathetically absurd as Jill as she solemnly repeated the old doggerel.
"That makes no difference--a pail of water or the outline of a
flower--did this man--this--this _Jack_ make the mark upon thee?"
Jill hesitated for a second and then answered with a glint in her eye.
"Yes! he did--and he did Mary too--put the dinkiest little heart on her
arm--we were under the cherry tree in the vegetable------!"
"Go!" suddenly thundered the Arab.
And Jill, gathering her raiment about her for departure, turned to look
straight into the man's eyes, whilst her heart, in spite of the little
scornful smile which twisted the corner of her mouth, leapt with the
love which had blossomed a hundredfold under the torrent of jealousy,
wrath, and mastery which he had poured forth upon her during the last
hour.
"Behold! art thou weak," she said sweetly in his own tongue, "having
not the strength to kill that which offends thee. 'Thou shalt not know
this man, or any other man,'" she mocked, quoting his words, "and yet
canst thou not break me to thy will! Of a truth, I have no further use
for thee in thy weakness!"
But Hahmed's control had only been slightly cracked, so that he merely
pointed to the curtain which divided Jill's quarters from the rest of
the house.
"Go!" he said simply, "go to thy apartment, wherein thou shalt stay
until thou seest good to come to me in obedience and love. Thou shalt
_not_ go forth except to the gardens; neither shall thy friends visit
thee, neither shalt thou climb to the roof; and thou _shalt_ obey
me--many, aye, many a woman were dead for far less than this thy
disobedience--but thou--thou art too beautiful to kill, except with
love--go!"
And Jill went, with beautiful head held high, heart throbbing from
love, and blood pounding in her ears from downright rage.
"I will not obey you! I shall do exactly as I wish!" she proclaimed,
with the curtain in her hand. In which she was mistaken, for the
simple fact that love held her fast.
And the curtain swinging to hide her from the Arab, as she stood for
one moment holding out her arms toward him; and for the same reason she
did not see him pick up her torn, scented veil, to thrust it between
his inner silken vest and his sorely perturbed heart.
CHAPTER XLIII
Night with her blessed wind had come at last, which means coolness for
a space beneath the stars, and oblivion for a while in sleep for those
who have untroubled heart and good digestion. There was just one black
patch in all that silvery stretch of sand, upon which the moon shone, a
patch that came neither from rock or tree or cloud, and which moved
occasionally in fitful jerks, until it raised itself and collapsed
again, and spread itself in a still stranger shape as from underneath
garments which had the form of arms and legs and disjointed feet which
fell apart, there crawled a man.
A man, though the face was cracked in great seams from brow to chin,
whilst the black tongue protruded from the split mouth drawn back from
the even teeth until the great bloated face seemed to laugh in derision
at the moon's softness.
The body, covered in a mass of sores coated with sand, raised itself to
the knees, whilst the hands tried painfully to scoop up the silver
moonbeams and raise them to the mouth. There was no sound in all that
deathly plain, which Allah knows is accustomed to such scenes, and when
the body had fallen forward once more upon the sand, so that the open
mouth was filled with grit, neither was there movement, until upon the
pale light of dawn a silent shape, and yet another, and still another
one, sailed serenely across the sky, and with a faint rustle of folding
wings settled down around the heap; to soar noiselessly skyward when it
suddenly twitched convulsively; to settle again with faint rustling
when all once more was still.
"Verily, O! brother, I am led towards that spot upon which the birds of
death have come together."
So said the Egyptian who was partner in the small caravan proceeding
leisurely towards Cairo, as he shaded his eyes and pointed first up to
the ever lightening sky, across which from all parts floated small
black dots, and then to a distant place upon the sand, where the black
spots seemed to mingle until they formed a blot of shade.
"Nay! Raise not thy voice in dissent, O! my brother, for behold we
have made good time, and water faileth us not."
And well was it that they turned aside, and shouted as they approached
so that only one beak had time to tear a strip of flesh from beneath
the naked shoulder, ere the flock of vultures rose, hovered a second,
and were gone. The two men drew near, and having dismounted, turned
the poor thing over, and feeling the faint beating of the heart, with
no more ado than if they were setting down to food, undid one of the
goatskins from the nearest camel, and soaking the flowing bernous until
it dripped with the precious water, wrapped the body in its folds; and
collecting the gold watch, money and card-case strewn upon the sands,
slipped everything back into a waistcoat pocket with the exception of a
three day old programme announcing a cotillion at Shepherd's Hotel, a
sketch of which hideous building was elaborately and mendaciously
reproduced on the cover, so that to the mind of uneducated Yussuf,
unversed in the English tongue, there was but one thing to do, and that
to go straight to the well-known caravanserai with his burden, and
deliver it safely into the proprietor's hands.
So Yussuf, euphoniously termed a benighted heathen by some enlightened
Christians, seated himself upon the fastest camel in the caravan,
receiving into his arms the thing that was still a man by their good
efforts, from the hands of the other heathen, who, with hands raised to
heaven, called down the blessing of Allah upon men and beast as the
latter departed at her swiftest for the great city, leaving him to
follow in more leisurely manner.
So that consternation and excitement were great among those who sat
upon the verandah after dinner, partaking of coffee and cigarettes
before undertaking the more strenuous task of entertaining themselves,
when in the glare of the electric light a great camel suddenly appeared
out of the night, and totally disregarding the upraised voice of the
enormous hotel porter, subsided in the gutter, thereby causing a block
in the street; whilst a man clumsily dismounted and staggered up the
shallow steps, tenderly holding some covered burden the while in his
arms that were breaking with fatigue, and who, speaking with authority,
demanded speech of the proprietor, who, furious at being disturbed,
came forth as furiously to annihilate the disturber, but instead, at
the first word from the Arab, who clutched a dirty piece of paper in a
hand almost paralysed with cramp, lifted a corner of the cloth from
about that which lay so inertly under the all-hiding cloak, and choked,
and stuttered, and then recovering himself, blandly led the Arab to the
lift which whirled them to the first floor, leaving the occupants on
the verandah all a-twitter, whilst the coffee grew cold and the
cigarettes went out.
CHAPTER XLIV
Days and nights passed, and still more days and nights, in which the
man, bound from head to foot in soft wrappings soaked in unguents,
tossed and raved, screaming for water, tearing at the bed-linen which
to his distorted mind was alive with every conceivable insect, beating
blindly at the faces of the two women who, refusing any help, watched
over and tended Jack Wetherbourne through his days of distress.
"Aye, lass! Now don't 'ee lose 'eart," whispered Sarah Ann Gruntham to
the girl who, having held consultation with the doctor, was sobbing her
heart out on the elder woman's motherly bosom which covered a heart of
purest gold. "Don't 'ee listen to such fash, lass, for what's he
likely to know outside of Lady Jones's wimble-wambles and me Lor'
Fitznoodles' rheumatism. Why 'e couldn't even tell that I 'ad 'ad a
touch of my old complaint, and me with an 'andle to me name. Come,
lass, oop with ye bonnie head, for I'll tell 'ee the great news--I sees
a bead o' perspiration on Sir John's brow--an' so I'm off to take me
'air out of crackers. Though Tim does find it more home-like, 'e says,
when I 'ave 'em h'in--oh, dearie! dearie! I often wish I was plain
Mrs. Gruntham again with no aitches to mind. I'll be with you in ten
minutes, and then, lass, ye'll just run away and have a bath--I managed
the aitch that time--and come back as fresh as a daisy, if there were
such a innocent thing in this land of sphinxes and minxes--and ye'll
see ten beads then, which sounds as tho' I be a Roman instead of a
strict Baptist. I'll run along, love, and don't let 'im see tears in
them bonny eyes of yours when he comes to know ye, lass."
And the dearest old soul in the world waddled away to take her hair out
of the crackers which had made a steel halo round her silvery hair for
many a night, and waddled hack again to see Mary with a great glow in
her eyes, and her hand clasping the skeleton fingers of Jack
Wetherbourne, who had known her at last, and was gazing blissfully at
his beloved.
His lips moved, though so weak was he that no sound came from them, so
that Mary had to bend to catch the whisper until her ear just touched
the lips still distorted from the effects of the desert sun.
She sat up, blushing from chin to brow, and smilingly shook her head.
"I will marry you, Jack dear, as soon as we find Jill!"
Wetherbourne made a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to frown, and then
turned his eyes as Mary turned her head on the opening of the door
between the bedroom and the sitting-room.
In the doorway stood the bewildering picture of an Eastern woman.
Wrapped round in the voluminous cloak of the East, with the face and
head veils hiding all but her eyes, she stood quite still as Lady Sarah
bustled across the room towards her, and Mary held up a warning hand.
A twitching of the man's fingers drew Mary's attention, and once more
she leant down to him.
"We're engaged," came the faint whisper, "_it's Jill_!"
CHAPTER XLV
Decked out in Mary's trappings Jill lay on the couch, her pale face
shining like an evening flower, whilst she passed the brush over and
over again through the burnished strands of her wonderful hair.
Mary had sat spellbound, almost open-mouthed, at the Arabian Nights
tale Jill had poured into her astounded ears.
"Hahmed!" she had exclaimed when Jill had told her of her marriage; and
be it confessed that Jill had tautened to meet the coming attack, and
relaxed when Mary, clasping her capable hands, had suddenly and
whole-heartedly beamed upon her. "Why, I've heard the most wonderful
things about him since I have been out here, in fact I've been almost
wearied to death listening to the accounts of his Haroun al Raschid
methods and qualities. His wedding put Cairo in an uproar--I saw the
pro------ But _Jill_, darling, is it possible it was you inside the
palanquin on the wonderful camel?"
Jill nodded as she busied herself in plaiting her hair into great ropes.
"And you've run away--escaped, you say?"
Jill nodded again.
"Yes!" she said, with three big tortoiseshell combs between her teeth.
"We had a _frightful_ flare-up--all the fault of my tearing temper.
You see I've been absolutely spoilt these last months, and I simply
behaved anyhow the first time I got scolded. But I didn't deserve it
all the same!" she added as an afterthought, as she wound the plaits
round her head. "And," she went on, "I should never have got away if
Mustapha had been with us."
"Who's Mustapha?"
"My own special bodyguard! But as he _wasn't_ there I managed to
thoroughly examine the high wall round the grounds, and found just one
spot to give me a foothold. I scrambled up in the heat of the day when
everyone was asleep, and had a terrible time with my garments."
She pointed as she spoke to a scented heap of silk and satin thrown on
a chair.
"I had to partly disrobe whilst sitting on the top of the wall, and was
terrified in case some pedlar might chance along. I tied my face and
head veil round my waist, but the _habarah_, that big black cloak--by
the way it belongs to one of my women, and I borrowed it with the
excuse that I wanted it copied, mine you see are rather ornamental, as,
of course, I never walk in the streets--well, I threw that on to the
ground, tucked up my _sebleh_, that dressing-gown sort of thing, and
scrambled down the other side, as I did not want to jump, ripping the
knees of my _shintiyan_--the wide trouser kind of things we wear------"
Mary's face was a study.
"Thanks to my borrowed cloak I was able to walk through the streets in
comfort--drawing my _burko_, face veil, dear, across my face so that
only one eye should be seen,[1] and a blue one at that. When I got to
Cairo I hired a car--speaking in Arabic to the astounded and fluttering
Englishman--drove to the Savoy, where I guessed you'd be--found you'd
moved here--came here--and being mistaken for what I am by marriage,
namely, a high-born lady of the land, was conducted straightway to you
in spite of the invalid--_et voilà_!"
Mary got up, and crossing to Jill sat down beside her on the couch.
"And what now, Jill? Hahmed will come and fetch you."
"Not Hahmed," said Jill, with a shadow in her eyes as she remembered
his parting words after what she had tersely called the flare-up.
"Besides, he trusts me _really_!" she added as an afterthought, and
continued with a note of feverish excitement in her voice: "So I I'm
going to stay with you, Mary, if you'll let me, until something or
another happens to help me make up my mind. I want to do a lot of
sight-seeing, and wear white skirts and a silk jersey and blouse. I'll
find a maid somewhere, I expect."
"Oh!" broke in practical Mary, "don't worry about that--servants are
such a nuisance. Do you remember Higgins? Well! she came out with me,
and gave me notice the second week--'couldn't abide the 'eathen
ways'--and wanted to get back to her home in Vauxhall. But the
proprietor found me a native woman, a perfect treasure, whose one
complaint is that she hasn't enough work to do!"
Silence fell for a time whilst Mary studied the face of her friend,
suddenly leaning forward to stroke the pale cheek and pat the little
hand.
"You don't look well, Jillikins! Are you sure you are happy?"
"Perfectly," said Jill, turning her face to the cushions and bursting
into uncontrollable weeping.
[1]A custom.
CHAPTER XLVI
With short steps the native woman shuffled quickly along the outside of
the wall surrounding the house of Hahmed the Arab, stopping in front of
the great gates, which were closed at sunset, to peer between the
wrought bronze work, standing her ground unconcernedly when a Nubian of
gigantic proportions suddenly appeared on the other side.
Terrifying he looked as he towered in the dusk, his huge eyes rolling,
and his hand on the hilt of a scimitar, which looked as though it had
been tempered more for use than for ornament.
"What wouldst thou?" he demanded in dog Arabic of the woman whose eyes
flashed disdainfully over the veil which hid her pock-marked face.
"Speech with they master, who has bidden me to his presence, and move
quickly, thou black dog of ill repute; tarry not in saying that his
servant from the big house in the city has news for his most august
ears."
The son of ill repute stared inquisitively for a moment, and then moved
off slowly with the inimitable gait of these ebon specimens of mankind,
increasing his pace almost to a run once out of the female's range of
vision.
Like a shadow she followed the different people, who, passing her from
one to another, led her through rooms and halls into an open court, at
the far end of which sat the man she sought, watching two jaguars being
led up and down before him.
"Peace unto thee, O! my daughter, and fear not to approach," Hahmed
said gently as the woman made deep obeisance, and shrank from the
animals who snarled at her viciously. "And thou, my son, take these
products of the bazaar hence, for surely hast thou been fooled by him
who brought them from distant climes. Verily, the sire may have been a
jaguar, but his mate, judging from the shape of the offspring, must
most surely have been a jackal. Bring not such trash to me, if thou
wouldst not incur my wrath!"
The snarling products of the bazaar were hurriedly jerked out of the
court as Hahmed turned to the woman.
"Is all well, O! faithful one?"
"All is well, O! Most High," answered the Honourable Mary's perfect
treasure of a maid. "Behold the gracious flower, upon whom it is my
joy and honour to wait, changeth her mood one hundred times in the
passing hour. She laughs at noon, and her pillow is wet with salt
tears at night; her feet, like lotus-buds, carry her hither and thither
in the day, the dimness of her room sees her face downwards upon her
couch.
"As unto a sweet rose she clings to her friend, the great lady, who
forsooth is as pleasing as a well-cooked dish of the flesh of kid
mingled with tamarind and rice; but the rose mixeth not with other
flowers, and about her heart rests thy most honourable picture."
For some long time Hahmed stared unseeingly in front and then he spoke.
"Thou hast worked well, my daughter, even from the moment when thou
didst take the place of the great lady's white servant, to report to me
upon the doings of the white man who strove to find my wife.
"Ask what reward thou will'st, it shall be granted unto thee!"
And the man, knowing the cupidity of his race, was somewhat astounded
when, casting herself at his feet, the woman craved to be taken into
his household so that, as she put it, "I may dwell in content in thy
shadow, and the shadow of the snow-white dove when she wings her way
back to happiness." Just for a moment the Arab looked into the eyes of
the woman, as, greatly daring, she lifted her right hand.
"For so it is written, O! my lord! the blessing of Allah is upon thee,
and thy heart shall be at rest."
CHAPTER XLVII
The day following the native woman's surreptitious visit to the great
Arab saw Jill and Mary and Jack, followed discreetly by the same native
woman, set sail at an early, gay and blithesome hour for Denderah,
where are to be seen the ruins of the Temple of Hathor, the Venus of
Ancient Egypt.
Upon arriving, after much dallying on the way, Jill insisted upon
walking along the narrow tracks through the stretches of corn and
sweet-smelling flowering bean, among which, to the general horror,
cattle ranging from cows to goats were allowed to roam at will.
A temple of love calls up visions of marble halls, marble fretwork,
basins with splashing waters and marble doves, pillars crowned with
intertwined marble hearts and lovers' knots tied with marble ribbons;
therefore Jill stood transfixed as she entered the great hall of
columns, with the goddess's somewhat forbidding head carved on each
side of each pillar.
She walked across slowly to peer into the inner court, shrouded in deep
shadows, shuddered and moved back towards the other two, whose
mentality, psychology or temperament responded not in the least to
light and shade.
Together they traversed the place, Jill running her hand over the
hieroglyphics which cover the pillars to their beautiful capitals,
until she stopped before a representation of Hathor the wanton,
standing naked and verily unashamed before the image of a man, whose
name I know not, but whose beauty and nudity are as great as hers.
Turning sharply she glanced hurriedly at Jack and Mary, and slipping a
hand through the arm of each, almost pulled them across the floor to a
stairway made in the wall and leading to the roof.
For, taken up in their own love story, those two had noticed nothing,
not even the uncountable figures of stone in the bas-reliefs which,
appearing to turn and whisper to each other, seem in the shadows to
take a delight in portraying by pantomimic gestures a love wholly
allied to voluptuousness and license.
But Jill had seen, and her ultra fastidiousness had dyed face and neck
crimson, and caused her to try and spare her companions similar
uncomfortable moments.
For a moment she stood on the roof watching the clouds of twittering
birds as they flew in the direction of the Libyan Hills, and then she
slipped quietly down the stairway, leaving her friends, supremely
oblivious of her presence or absence, weaving their love-tale on the
roof of the ruined temple of love.
With nerves a-jangle and heart disturbed Jill longed for shadows and
solitude, so that she shrank back, hesitated, and then advanced slowly
towards the veiled figure of a woman standing watching her from the
shadows of the very heart of the ruins, the holy of holies, the hall of
past mysteries and solemn rites.
"What wouldst thou?" Jill asked her in Arabic, which was as wellnigh
perfect as any European can make it, and although she could hardly make
out one whole sentence of what she took for a dialect spoken by the
woman, she grasped enough to understand that the Egyptian, draped in
the peasant's cloak, was anxious to read her fortune in the sand she
carried in the black handkerchief, and which sand she said she had
gathered on the steps of the temple's high altar at the full moon.
Jill sat down on a fallen block of masonry, looking very fragile, very
sweet, very fair, with her white throat gleaming above the white silk
blouse and jersey, soft blue hat pulled over her sunny head to shade
her face, death-white save for the shadows which seemed to make a mask
about her eyes, as she drew hieroglyphics on her own account in the
sand with the tip of her small white shoe.
She had heard of the extraordinary powers possessed by some of the
Egyptian people; Hahmed had told her of their gift of reading the
future in the sand; among her own household she had come across
authentic cases where the most unlikely things predicted had come to
pass.
And the cloud about her was so thick, and weighed so heavily upon her!
Of her own free-will she had flung her happiness away, and with her
happiness had gone her content and light-heartedness. She laughed with
others, and cried softly by herself at night; she shared the amusements
with others, and sat up at night, bewildered and afraid, to steal to
the mirror and look upon a pinched face with tightened nostrils, and to
wipe away the dampness gathered under the golden curls.
Had her marriage been a mistake or not? If not, why had she fled
before the first little sign of storm? If it had been, why was she
utterly miserable now that liberty was hers?
Her friends would surely be taking their departure soon. Should she go
too, or should she go back in all humbleness to the man she loved? Did
he want her, having shown no sign or desire for her return? Did
he--did he not? A decision must be made, and soon, but what was it to
be? Round and round, like a flock of startled pigeons, went her
thoughts, one breaking away to whirr into the back of her mind, another
to drift into the shadows, and another, and yet another, whilst the
rest flew on, round and round!
And then she shrank back, gripping the stone with two cold little hands
as great drops gathered and trickled down her face, her breath coming
in silent gasps.
Stricken with terror she threw out her arms passionately.
"Speak, woman, speak! Spread the sand, and read to me what thou seest
therein. Thy finger shall point the way, and that way will I follow
wherever it may lead."
CHAPTER XLVIII
Whereupon the woman of the shadows, turning towards that which had once
been an altar, and raising her arms straight above her head with hands
out-turned at an acute angle, thrice repeated words that were
absolutely unintelligible to Jill.
And then kneeling, she spread the sand upon the ground, dividing it
into circles and squares, drawing curious signs with the tip of her
hand, which as Jill noticed was passing white and slender for that of a
peasant woman, and spoke--in modern tongue.
"Behold, O! woman, who emerged from a grey cloud to enter into the
radiance of the sun, thou art beloved by the gods who rule the earth
through the countless and eternal ages. Thou dost pause upon the
threshold of the temple of love, fearing these shadows which will pass
away when thou shalt stand within the great radiance of the goddess.
Yea! and fearful art thou of the sand out of which shall spring a tree
of many branches, and in the shade of which thou shalt encompass thy
life's span. Behold," and the finger drew a line upon the sand, "the
grey cloud encloses thee yet once again, and the goddess weeps without!
Yet will she rejoice! Before many moons have come and gone, the great
god Amen shall tear aside that which blindeth thee, and placing a man
son upon thy breast shall lead thee into the innermost temple.
"Six times shall Amen strike thee in love, so that thou bearest sons,
and once shall he strike thee upon both breasts so that a woman child
shall spring from thy loins.
"Love is thy portion, thy meat, and thy drink, bringing unto thee those
who travailing in love shall come for thy wisdom, and those labouring
in grief for thy succour.
"And thou shalt not die before thy time, and thou shalt pass to the
gods with thy hand in thy master's, for he shall not leave thee through
all thy life, nay not even at the last. And thy name shall ring
throughout the land of Egypt, and be engraven upon the walls of time.
"Behold Hathor, behold I say!" and three times the unintelligible words
rang through the place as Jill sank back staring open-eyed.
The small white hand had pulled the veil aside from about the face, and
head, and body of the fortune-teller, so that for a moment she seemed
to stand outlined against the pillar, with flashing eyes, scarlet
mouth, and brow encircled with a golden band, from which sprang
something round with wings set in precious stones; the glory of her
gleaming body shone white as ivory in the gloom, her perfect arms
stretched straight downwards with hands turned sharply in so that the
finger-tips rested on the rounded thighs.
And then Jill rubbed her eyes and stared, and stared again; for the
spot was empty, save for a square of sand with strange signs drawn upon
it; neither was there sound of retreating footsteps or swish of drapery.
Jill stumbled to her feet, swaying as she caught at a pillar for
support, and then with a violent effort of will walked to a great shaft
of sunlight which struck the ground in front of the ruins of the high
altar from an opening in the roof.
"Am I mad?" she whispered. "Did I dream that woman--and yet the sand
is there!"
A pitiful little smile flickered across the ashen face as she stood
motionless and alone in the ruins.
"The temple of love," she cried softly, flinging out her arms, "the
temple of love and I am alone. Hahmed beloved, where are you? I feel
so--I--I wish you were here to take me in your arms. Hahmed--I want
comforting--I do--I'm lonely--I--I'm--oh, oh! God--God have mercy on
me--I--we------"
For a moment the transfigured girl stood upright, her face one blaze of
wonder in the light of the sun, her eyes wide open and filled with a
great surprise and a greater awe.
And then she slowly sank to her knees and bowed her beautiful head to
the sand, whilst the echoes took up her words and carried them to the
far corners of the vast ruins.
"I am not worthy, my beloved, for this great honour--I am not worthy in
that I am not with thee at this moment when thy child stirs within me.
I am covered in shame in that I doubted. I am bowed down with shame
and yet lifted up to the heavens with joy."
For long minutes thus knelt she alone with her happiness, and then she
raised herself whilst a great sob shook her from head to foot.
"Hahmed," she cried as she flung her arms out wide, "Hahmed, wherever
thou art I am calling thee. Hahmed, Hahmed!" and fell face downward
unconscious upon the sand covered floor.
Noiselessly an Arab stepped from behind a pillar, crossing to the still
figure on the ground, and gently he picked her up in his arms, covering
her in the folds of his great white cloak.
"Little bird! little bird!" he whispered in the beautiful Arabian
tongue, "why willst thou beat thy tender wings against the bars of
happiness around thy dwelling? And thou wert frightened--frightened by
yon peasant woman. What said she, my dove, to strike thee senseless to
the ground?
"Thou art pale, O! my heart's delight, and weigh but as a handful of
down upon my arm, and yet must thou learn thy lesson, to the end; and
even will I forsake thee, leaving thee guided by the star of happiness
to find thy way alone to thy dwelling in the desert. Yea! there will I
await thee, O! my beloved--beloved!"
And Hahmed passed swiftly through the hall of shadows, and down the
fields of waving corn and sweet scented bean to the banks of the Nile,
and there he placed his sweet burden in the arms of the faithful native
woman, who tenderly wiped the sand from the golden curls and raised her
right hand in fealty to her master as he turned away, neither did she
falter in her tale to Mary and Jack when, goaded by anxiety and in
spite of the heat, they ran down towards the boat.
"Sunstroke!" said Mary, who had a certificate for first-aid, and
speaking with the certain flat determination which even her best
friends found most trying at times. "You simply _cannot_ go about in
Egypt without a green-lined umbrella. Yes! it's a slight, quite slight
attack of sunstroke," she continued, without noticing the radiance of
Jill's eyes, "and I will apply this damp handkerchief to your medulla
oblongata."
CHAPTER XLIX
Jill sat on the edge of her bed in an hotel at Suez.
That she was absolutely alone in Egypt, and ought not to have been
alone, never entered her head once, as she gazed through the open
window towards the sea.
Her eyes shone like stars, her mouth was a beautiful sign of content,
her hands were clasped peacefully on her knee, and she simply radiated
happiness.
Mary and Jack, Lady Bingham, Diana Lytham and Sir Timothy and Lady
Sarah, had started that morning for England in the great liner which
Jill had watched unconcernedly until it disappeared up the canal.
And so for the first time for many weary weeks she was alone, though it
must be confessed that the liberty had only been gained by a deliberate
perversion of the truth.
Fussed by kind-hearted, though, somewhat scandalised Lady Gruntham,
driven to the point of madness by the never-ending stream of wisdom,
advice, and plans which from morning till night flowed unceasingly from
the store of Mary's book-gleaned knowledge, Jill had cleared up the
situation all round by suddenly announcing the imaginative fact that
Hahmed was coming to Cairo to fetch her home. Whereupon Mary Bingham
had arranged everything to her own entire satisfaction in the twinkling
of an eye, told Jack Wetherbourne that she and her mother were leaving
for England if he'd like to come too, had worked her maid to death with
packing, distributing quite a fair supply of backsheesh, and had
bundled her bewildered mother and contented fiancé down to Suez, where
Jill had seen them off to the accompaniment of a last final flood of
advice which was mercifully lost in the scream of the siren, the rasp
of machinery, and the manifold sounds which add hilariously, especially
in foreign climes, to the pandemonium that reigns to within a second of
the cry which invites some of us to descend to terra firma on the
occasion of the sailing of a passenger boat.
Jill suddenly came out of a reverie which had painted her cheeks a most
exquisite pink, and caused her teeth to show in the faintest smile.
Then she frowned and shook back her mane of hair, as was her habit when
perplexed, and spoke softly to the night wind which was blowing
straight in at the window from the other side of the canal.
"The oasis is calling me, night wind, calling, calling, and yet I do
not know. You who come from the oasis, tell me, is my beloved there,
or shall I find my dwelling empty, and my happiness but as a
turned-down cup?"
Who can explain what it is that leads the spirit astraying from its
material covering?
Are love and longing its sole companions upon the road of shadows?
Surely no! for is not revenge, or jealousy, or the near approach of
that which is called death as potent to span the stretches of the
world; and will not a vision of stark terror blot out the sun at the
commonplace hour of noon, and may not the body, squatting on the market
pavement, find it a place of rest, even as unto a seat in paradise
through the spirit's communion?
The soul's wireless, mental telepathy, the sympathetic chord, and so
on, and so on, good honest words to describe that which no one
understands, and which caused the girl sitting on a prosaic bed in a
prosaic hotel to smile suddenly as she sat so very still.
For her soul had wandered until she stood with her feet in the sand,
looking in at a wide-open door through which a beam of violet-orange
light struck across the night.
Two men sat motionless within, until one slowly turned his head and
looked through the door straight into her eyes.
For one long moment, with unutterable longing he gazed, and then the
vision faded just as Jill, saying softly, "Beloved! I come," stretched
out her arms, and with a sudden shiver awoke to her surroundings.
PART III
THE FRUIT
CHAPTER L
"Doubtless my beloved sleeps!" thought Hahmed the Arab, as he looked at
the watch on his wrist to find it pointing to midnight, and clapped his
hands for fresh coffee, then lit another cigarette whilst his guest
who, like himself, sat cross-legged on cushions on the floor, inhaled
contentedly from a _shibuk_[1] in a house of rest on the outer edge of
a distant oasis.
Weary to death was he of the uninterrupted flow of words which
unceasingly streamed from the mouth of the cross-bred man, who was
gleefully rubbing the hands of his soul over what he imagined to be the
clinching of a remarkable bargain with the Camel King, whereas if he
had but known it, his host had merely put a little difficulty in the
way so as to lengthen the deal, and thereby kill a few moments of the
dreary hours of the dreary time he had passed since had left the woman
he loved alone to learn the last words of her lesson.
Turning he called sharply to the servile proprietor of the house, which
for the first time was honoured by the presence of its redoubtable
landlord.
Salaaming until his tarboosh reached the level of his knees, the
inwardly shaking Achmed stood before his two guests.
"Hast thou naught wherewith to entertain thy guests, O! Achmed, or must
they perchance pass the hours in counting the flies which flit about
the none too clean lamps? Thinkest thou that this house is solely a
roof to shade thy head from the sun, or perchance is it a dwelling of
comfort for those who pass East and West?"
By this time the oriental's head was bobbing like a mandarin's, whilst
in a spasm of terror his mouth opened and shut unceasingly.
"Find thy tongue, O! fool, before I turn thee from the door. Hast thou
aught of entertainment, and hast thou other than this mud thou callest
coffee? Speak I say!"
With a gulp which served to clench Hahmed's fingers, the wretched
Achmed vowed he had music of a kind and dancers of sorts, and that at
that moment his first wife was preparing a brew surpassed only by that
drunk in the Gardens of Delight by the chosen of Allah, who had passed
to their well-earned rest.
"Choose, O! my guest! doubtless they will both be as forlorn as this
coffee, for which I crave thy forgiveness--our business is at an end,
and some hours stretch unendingly before us."
Ali 'Assan, dying to satisfy his cross-bred inquisitiveness which, with
the curiosity of Egypt entire, had been aroused by the strange rumours
of some catastrophe happened in his host's household, had not the
slightest desire for bed, rather would he have sat up for an entire
week of nights, if only be could have got an inkling of the truth; so
he plumped for music and dancing whilst his host sat motionless, the
light of the hanging lamps throwing strange shadows on the stern,
relentless face.
Hahmed the Arab, it is true, sat upon the cushions in the dingy room;
you would have certainly touched a human body if you had laid a hand
upon his arm, but by an effort of will which left him sitting
absolutely motionless with half-closed eyes, he, in spite of the heat,
the irritation of his guest's presence, and all that went to make the
evening intolerable, had sent his spirit, or soul, or what you will,
adrift, searching for his beloved; so unutterable was his longing, so
wracked was his heart with love, so utter was his detachment, that
neither piping of reed, twanging of stringed instrument or patter of
feet could bring him back to his surroundings.
And then under some unexplainable impulse Hahmed turned his head
slowly, looking across the shoulder of his guest to the door behind,
and his eyes glowed like fires in the darkness of night as in the
doorway he saw framed the face of her for whom body and soul craved.
The face was pale even unto death, but the red mouth smiled softly, and
the golden curls clustered and twisted as they had ever done; the blue
eyes were wells of love, in which the Arab's soul sank as he called
though his lips moved not, neither was there sound of words in the room.
"Come to me, beloved, beloved! Come to me!"
And the vision faded, and Hahmed's spirit returned to its dwelling as a
faint sigh from Ali 'Assan made him remember his duty towards his guest.
The Arab does not indulge in nerves, though Allah only knows how long
it will be before he resorts to bromide if he continues to fraternise
with the European, but Hahmed, unknown to himself, was suffering from
the almost unendurable strain of the past endless empty days.
He was consumed with thirst for his beloved, agonising with hunger for
his heart's desire, forcing himself to do business in out-of-the-way
places in his land so as to keep his thoughts from the exquisite face
of his own woman.
True, he could have stayed in Cairo, and waited for further news of
her; true, he could have seized her and carried her forcibly back to
his own lands, but the pride of centuries raged within him, and until
she came back of her own free will he would neither move hand nor foot
to compel her.
Anyway, let us put the following episode down to the months of strain
culminating in an intense irritation wrought by the babble of Ali
'Assan's meaningless chatter, and the vileness perhaps of the coffee.
He lifted his eyes and looked at the picture before him.
The room was low, and the lighting bad, the air suffocating, whilst a
few particles of sand blown in by the hot wind heralded an approaching
storm.
Standing before him with a piece of tawdry gauze about her quite
unprepossessing form stood the over aged dancer with a set simper upon
her silly vacant face.
"Allah!" ejaculated Hahmed, as he lit a cigarette, whilst Achmed,
peeping through the door, suddenly smote his forehead.
Now dancing women were no more to the great man than a troupe of
performing collies, but his artistic sense demanded the best, and when
it was not forth-coming he felt the same annoyance as you or I would
feel if arrayed in purple and fine linen we adorned a box at the opera
with our presence, covered with as many diamonds upon it as possible,
to find a street singer deputising for a Melba or Caruso.
"Thou dog," he said pleasantly to the cringing man, who tremblingly
explained that indeed he had one better--yea, even fair to look upon.
"Behold, if thou offerest yet another insult to this mine guest I will
have thee and thy woman whipped into the desert and left to die."
Whereupon Achmed fled precipitately in the wake of her who had annoyed,
and snatching a whip beat her smartly on her plump but ill-formed
shoulders, the while he urged the prima ballerina of the establishment
to anoint herself and depart right quickly to the pacifying of the
great Hahmed, which order, alas, put a totally wrong idea into her
Tunisian-Arabian pate.
[1]Long native pipe.
CHAPTER LI
La Belle, a rank cross-breed of Tunisian and French with a dash of
Arabian, was the one good part of a bad debt which had overwhelmed
Achmed when he had inadvertently over-reached himself.
Her body was passable, lithe, sinewy, with a faint hint of rib and a
wonderful bust; her brain was good, intuitive in its non-educated
state, and subtle from inheritance; her ambition was superb, it knew no
limits, it saw no obstacle.
Born in a kennel in Tunis, she had figuratively and literally fought
her way to the upper reaches of the gutter, sleeping in filth, eating
it, listening to it, living it; dancing for a meal, selling her
strangely seductive body for a piastre or so, settling her quarrels
with a knife she carried in her coarse, crisp, henna-dyed hair, with
one goal before her slanting orange eyes, that of dancer in chief,
prima ballerina, or what you will, in some house of good repute; the
explanation of which phrase would overtax my oriental knowledge I fear.
Dance she could, if dancing is the correct term for the subtle
portraying of every conceivable vice by every conceivable gesture and
posture; and she had felt herself content on the day she had for a good
round sum sold herself to take up a dancing position of some importance
in the house of him who, unknown to her, had got himself entangled in
more than one human money-spider's web.
If her dancing was correct or not, men had begun to foregather in the
house, where--if her temper allowed--she would dance o' nights fully
clothed or fully unclothed; also her reputation was beginning to be
used as a lure to the uninitiated freshly arrived in Cairo, therefore
her usually fiendish temper was as hell unloosed when, as part payment
of a debt, she found herself willy-nilly strapped to a camel and carted
by slow stages to the house of rest whose proprietor was Achmed, and
landlord Hahmed, the Camel King.
"Dance I will not, thou descendant of pigs," she stormed at Achmed,
who, reducing his fez to a pulp, raved at her as she crouched in a
corner with something a-glitter in her hand. "Send in thy wife who
ambles like a camel in foal, and whose ankles are thick enough to serve
as prop to a falling house."
"Thou fool," hissed the man with sweat pouring down his face, and who
through the working of his oriental mind already felt the swish of the
whip about his shoulders, and the agony of the desert fly's bite on his
flagellated anatomy. "It is _Hahmed_--the great _Hahmed_, who orders
thee to his presence. It is thy chance, thou fool--it is------"
And his dull eyes brightened, and his sensual month widened in a grin
as the girl sprang to her feet and sped to a mirror on the opposite
side of the room.
"Dullard," she cried, as she pulled her clothing furiously from her,
and stood with nothing but a plain coloured shawl of gauze covered in
tinsel twined about her slim waist, "why hast thou wasted precious
moments? Why has thou imperilled my chance by infuriating the great
man? Out of my way, thou snail."
And as she fled precipitately from the room she caught the man by the
throat and flung him against the wall with the ease of muscle trained
to the last point.
"Ow!" exclaimed Ali 'Assan at the apparition in the doorway with the
flaming henna head and taut brown body, with long, thin, brown arms
stretched down stiff as ramrods to the sides, and "Ow!" he said again,
as she suddenly moved and again stood still with the gleaming orange
eyes fixed on his host, who looked at her for an instant, and looked
away again to the far corner, as he indifferently lit a cigarette.
And then La Belle danced for all she was worth, and for all she knew,
whilst the guest watched in sensual enjoyment, and the host took not
the slightest notice.
Nearer she came, and nearer still, until the pungent odour of the
insufferable Eastern perfume of which the body is musk, suddenly struck
the nostrils of the man for whom she danced, bringing a slight frown to
his face, and causing him to thoughtlessly raise his right hand, which,
as perhaps the reader may not know, is an oriental sign of appreciation.
A flash of triumph swept across the face of the woman, who was
absolutely on the wrong tack, as she sidled so near that her bare limbs
almost touched the flowing cloak which swept round the man. His mind
was full of his exquisite, delicate, tantalising, fastidious wife, his
body ached for her, his soul fainted for even a touch of her little
hand, so that once again he raised his right hand as though to sweep
away some pestilential insect from his path, just one little careless
gesture which proved a woman's undoing.
Back bent La Belle, and still farther back until her evil face was on a
level with that of the man she was trying to subjugate, and when for an
instant his eyes rested on hers, which peered at him from the strange
angle of her upside down position, she whispered one little word.
And then a great fury suddenly blazed in Hahmed's eyes, a sudden storm
of hate swept across the stern face, as his hand steel strong closed
fiercely about the long thin neck.
"Thou daughter of gutter dogs," he whispered, so low that the words
were hardly caught by Ali 'Assan, who with fingers twining
uncontrollably in his white garment, sat petrified by the suddenly
arisen storm. "Thou essence of evil, go back to the devil who spawned
thee."
There was a choked gurgling cry as the hand closed tighter, a little
click like the closing of a safe door, and the body of the dead woman,
was hurled into the middle of the room, whilst Hahmed lit a cigarette
and clapped his hands for the presence of Achmed, who, his legs
refusing to support his shaking body, crawled in on his hands and knees.
"Carry that carrion out, O! thou trafficker in evil, and throw it to
the jackals."
"Master, O! master! May the light of Allah shine upon thee in thy
wisdom, may the houris of paradise make thy couch one of delight when
thou art gathered to thy forefathers! In all ignorance I sent yon
ignoble female to dance before my honoured guest--a great price I paid
for her in the market."
"Thou liest," gently replied his master.
Whereupon Achmed gathered good handfuls of dust from the floor and
massaged it into his oily hair, whilst Hahmed, rising to his great
height, prayed forgiveness from his guest, who was even then thinking
what a waste of good material the dead woman represented.
"Let this serve thee as a lesson, thou perverter of Allah's truth,"
spake Hahmed, in a voice as caressing as that of a woman, "and teach
thee to acquire property which does honour to thy house. Camels, a
male and female, shall be sent in payment for that for which thou hast
not paid one piastre.
"Breed with them so that the milk refreshes the traveller, and the hair
spins soft covering for their bed, and fail me not again, for behold
when I strike it is as the lightning which blasts the tree."
And the two men stalked silently from the scene of the tragedy, leaving
Achmed rubbing his hands in glee, with intervals of removing particles
of dust from his eyes and mouth, whilst his virago of a first wife
ambled in to ascertain the proceeds of the evening, an account of which
caused her to raise dirty hands to heaven and praise Allah, before she
ambled out again, contemptuously kicking the dead body _en passant_,
which action nearly upset the equilibrium of her cumbersome body, as
she hastened to summon the help necessary to lift and carry to the
jackals the body of La Belle who had missed her chance.
CHAPTER LII
The full moon shone down on the scene, which surely had not changed
since the wise men of the East--led by a star--came to find a Babe.
The palms swayed slightly in a faint breeze, the sand stretched a
restful grey, and there was no sound whatever save the faint ripple of
the life-giving stream singing its way through the oasis. Neither was
there sign of human life excepting the figure of an Arab standing as if
carved in bronze in the black shadow of the palms. Immobile, with arms
folded he stood, eyes intent on the road leading to civilisation,
watching and waiting, as he had watched and waited through many a night
until dawn.
"Allah!" and the words were indistinguishable from the brook's
murmuring. "God of all, send her back to me. Behold! with patience I
have waited these last long months--and yet would I wait even until
death--for thou, O! Allah, in Thy greatness hast allowed me dimly to
understand this woman's mind--my woman, my heritage of all time.
"The Eastern night will draw her back, as surely as the moon will make
a silvery path for her return; for she has but tried her soft white
wings, and I have no fear that she will have sullied them in her flight.
"But this time, this time there shall be no escape."
The long brown hand stretched out as if to seize and hold, the slender
fingers closed gently, but with a grip of steel, as though upon the
whiteness of some woman's throat.
"When she comes back my wife," continued the voice, as the moon slowly
swung up to her throne, blinding in her power the million twinkling
eyes that had watched for her coming. "Yet, when she comes it will be
for very love of me, her lover, and for love of the night and the scent
of the dawn, for the stillness of the dusk, and the longing to lay her
pure whiteness at rest within my arms."
And then he threw his hands heavenwards with a great cry.
"Allah, be praised! Oh Allah, unto thee I give thanks."
And sank upon his knees, touching the sand with his forehead, and
rising with hands outstretched strode quickly to the clump of palms
near the gate in the wall surrounding Jill's dwelling, to meet three
camels stalking upon the road leading from civilisation towards him;
one golden-brown with a closed palanquin swaying upon its back, the
others dark brown, one laden with great skins, almost empty of water,
and bundles of every size and description, the other mounted by the
head keeper of camels, who, having brought the animals to their knees,
ran to his master and knelt before him with his mouth open as though to
speak, and a look of wracking anxiety and indecision upon his usually
imperturbable countenance.
But a slight motion of his master's hand sent him hurriedly towards the
servants' quarters, where he was received by scores of his own kind
simply bursting with curiosity, whilst Hahmed silently held out his
hands to help Jill from the palanquin.
She stumbled badly as her feet touched the ground, and bit on a cry as
the man's strong hand caught and steadied her as she stood swaying
slightly.
"Remove thy veil for I fain would see what winds have blown upon thee!"
The little figure, wrapped in countless yards of the soft purple satin
habarah, recoiled a step as the words fell with the hiss of icy water
upon red hot steel; a little nervous laugh rising like thin vapour on
the strained atmosphere.
"And so the great Hahmed would expose the face of his wife to the
driver of camels? Behold, has his pride fallen."
And she continued with the sharp edge of an approaching nerve storm in
her voice.
"Methinks it would be better for him to send his fleetest camel to the
great city, and bid it wait without the house of the Blue Door, wherein
are to be found those who, unveiled and unashamed, will come and dance
upon the sand before such men as--yon camel driver!"
A slight sound of tearing silk and the scented veil lay in Hahmed's
hands, whilst the great moon threw its rays mercilessly on the little
face.
Deep purple rings made the eyes seem twice their size, the nose looked
pinched, the mouth slightly twisted, whilst great drops from the damp
brow fell upon the silk covering she held heaped up around her.
"Allah!" ejaculated Hahmed, as he looked and looked again. "Methinks
the winds have been ill which have blown upon thee. Thou lookest
stricken unto death--and I know not how, but thou hast changed
inconceivably--thou art shorter. No! I know not what it is, but
hearken.
"Thou hast filled my cup of endurance, O! woman, to the brim. Yea!
until the drops of bitterness have overflowed and fallen upon the
sands, but now thou art come back, rather than let thee go I would
drive this dagger through thy heart.
"Fear not that I will pass uncalled the silken hangings of thy chamber,
or force upon thee the sweet title of wife which against my wish thou
hast so long disdained, but thou art my prisoner. If love could not
bind thee to me, then shall care be taken that thou strayest not again
from thy home.
"Thy body woman has orders to come to thee only when I command her to
do so, though such is her love for thee that she beats her shrivelled
body in despair at thy absence, and is like to die for weariness of thy
empty chamber. So when thou wilt retire, if perchance the silken
ribbon of thy raiment has become knotted, there are no hands but these
to the unravelling of the mysteries of thy toilet.
"If thou hast need of me, thou needest but call me, and I will speed to
thy bidding, for behold! I will lay across thy portal, as I have lain
these many moons since thy nest has been without the bird for whom it
was my pleasure to build."
For a moment fell a mighty silence between the two, broken only by the
stream which hurried past them on its way to the great green Nile.
Not a frond stirred, neither did the breeze even move the multitudinous
folds of Jill's raiment.
From the West the sand swept up to her feet, and as far as eye could
see to the East it stretched.
Slowly she turned and looked at the motionless figure under the palms,
then silently she held out her hands with a little movement of utter
submission, as a sound, twixt a sob and a moan, fell gently on the soft
air.
For one long moment they looked across the sand at each other, these
two who had been tried to their utmost limit, and then the man was at
her feet, with, flimsy veil held in his hands, lower he bent and lower,
as his white cloak swept out on each side of the girl like great
protecting wings, as catching the hem of her dress he raised it to his
forehead, and then rising to fasten the veil before her face, led her
by the hand to the door of her dwelling, pulling back the white silk
curtain for her to pass.
CHAPTER LIII
A very ecstasy of love radiated upon the Arab's face as he stood behind
Jill, who in amazement stopped dead on the threshold.
Beautiful her many rooms had been, but none to compare with the
snow-white beauty of this. Great white Persian rugs with faint
tracings worked in gold and silver lay upon the white marble of the
floor; white cushions, with little corner gold and silver tassels, lay
piled upon a great divan raised a foot on ivory feet above the floor,
and half hidden behind white damask curtains hanging from a finely
wrought arch carved out of creamy stretches of ivory held together with
gold and silver clasps of rare workmanship.
Stools of ivory, and one great perfect chair, made of innumerable tusks
with each tip blunted by a ball of crystal, shone in the dim light cast
by the hanging lamps, which drew countless rays from the four fountains
playing in the four corners. Bibelots, jewelled boxes, rare books in
rare age-dulled covers, things of use and things of luxury lay in every
corner, and yet so big was the room that it gave Jill an infinitely
refreshing feeling of space as she walked slowly through to another
one, leading out from the far side, where crystal and ivory gleamed
from low tables, and full length mirrors reflected the water in the
Roman bath over which hung flowering plants scenting the air from the
great gold and white cups, whilst two snow-white doves cooed to each
other in a silver cage at the approach of the coming dawn.
"So would I have it for my--ah----!" Hahmed stopped suddenly, as with a
little cry the girl falling forward clutched frantically at his fine
white clothing, tearing it in many places under her weight.
"Woman--wife, art thou stricken with fear of him who loves thee--Allah!
That I should have lived to see thy face distorted in anguish in my
presence. I spoke in anger, O! my heart, but my wrath waxeth faint
within me in thy beloved presence," and speaking soft words of love he
raised her in his arms, causing the voluminous mantle which she held so
closely about her to slip from her shoulders to the ground.
Speechless she stood before him with her hands before her face, and
speechless stood Hahmed, as, holding her at arm's length, he gazed upon
his woman, gazed until a great tremor suddenly shook him.
For behold he saw that the glory of womanhood had descended upon her,
and that her hour was nigh.
"Allah!" he whispered, as he gently drew her into his arms. "Thou art
with child, O! my beloved. Why was I not stricken blind for this my
senseless folly? Why was I not stricken dumb for those my words of
wrath spoken to _thee_, thou tree bearing the fruit of love? Oh! glory
be to Allah in this most wonderful thing."
He picked her up, and carrying her into the first room, laid her upon
the divan and knelt beside her with her hand against his mouth whilst
she whispered to him the great, the everlastingly wonderful and new
tidings of the coming of her babe.
"Oh, dearest of men and most little understanding. Truly it is that
within me I hold thy great gift. How was it thou didst not guess when
I no longer raced thee across the sands upon my horse, or sprang to the
ground to greet thee on my return.
"And even when my moods changed even as changeth the colour of the
sands, even then, dear heart, thou didst not guess; and I in my foolish
woman's way was contrary, and could not even then be sure that my
happiness lay here in the desert. And so I left thee, to try thee and
myself, and not until I could no longer see thee, and have speech with
thee, did I------ Hahmed! Ah, beloved! Nay, 'tis nothing--it can be
nothing--because two moons have yet to rise and wane before--ah, and
yet--maybe--maybe the journey, although not tedious, has brought about
my happiness before its time. Beloved, I------"
With eyes alight, with a great pride and face aglow with tenderness,
Hahmed bent and kissed the little agonised face.
"I go one instant, Queen of Women, to bid thy body woman come, she,
praise be to Allah, being well versed in the mighty miracle of birth.
"She will tend thee with the tenderness of a mother, and the skill of
the greatest doctor in the land.
"Fret not, beloved, I am gone but for one moment."
Jill lay silent, and then smiled sweetly as out of the shadows ran a
little hunchback figure who stood without word, for a moment gazing
with love-laden eyes at the white woman, then kneeling suddenly, kissed
the cushion upon which rested the girl's dainty feet.
For half an hour Jill submitted to the adoring little woman's
ministrations, who made water to splash, and scented the air with
aromatic perfume, and spread white loose gowns and softest linens
before her mistress for her choice.
"Leave me, Ameena, now," whispered Jill, and she was alone with the
golden glory of her hair falling about her, as she pressed her hands
against her mouth, until uncontrollably and insistently her cry for her
master tore the air.
"Hahmed! Ah, Hahmed! Come to me!"
And he was beside her.
The Arab had faced death more than once, had witnessed things unmoved
which had served to freeze the very blood of others; but never had he
heard such a cry as this which cleft the shadows in the room.
Great drops of sweat shone upon his forehead as he stooped above the
couch, his strong white teeth biting into his under lip.
Swiftly he crossed the room, pulling back the silken curtain which
served as a door, leaving an opening through which the dying moon
struck a mighty silver spear.
And as swiftly he passed out into the gardens scented with sweet
flowers, a little gate in the wall swinging back at his touch, through
which he sped on and on to the great plains of his beloved desert.
It was the hour before the dawn, and turning in the direction of Mecca
he prayed, and the prayer finished, advanced yet another twenty yards
and, divesting himself of his cloak, laid it upon the ground, and then
turning, sped back to his woman who honoured him before all men.
A little breeze heralding the coming dawn blew the silken curtains
gently to and fro as the man knelt beside the low divan.
"Hahmed! the hour strikes--I am afraid--I--oh! Hahmed, I cannot see
thy face, beloved."
Two little white hands sought and grasped the strong ones held out to
help, for through the faint voice had crept a note of fear.
But even though the little teeth had bit until red drops of blood had
spilled from her mouth on to the white cushion, the great eyes smiled
up into the man's tortured face as he bent closer to the golden head.
"Harken! Woman of women, thou who bringest honour unto me, in this
thou shalt please thyself, for art thou not in this moment a very
queen, and I but a slave at thy feet.
"Behold is it the custom of my tribe, dwellers of the desert, children
of the sand, that the woman give birth to her first-born upon the very
sand of this mighty desert.
"Not upon couch and silken cloth does the first-born draw its breath,
but upon the sand with the desert wind upon his little head.
"I have no command for thee, beloved, because thou art of the West,
where different customs rule, and I--I mind not--for my love for thee
is above all custom, and all manner and fashioning of mankind! Choose
then and I am satisfied!"
Once again two little hands shone dimly as they were raised, searching
blindly.
"Take me into thy arms, beloved, and carry me to the desert sand, for
behold, thy will is my will and my ways are henceforth thy ways! But
hasten! for the moment is at hand. Hold me in thy strength for I
faint!"
Tenderly the great man stooped and gathered the girl to his breast.
Swiftly he crossed the threshold, and passing through the gate gently
laid her down upon his mantle, stretched upon the ground.
* * * * * *
The wind of dawn blew the stars out one by one, the great plains of
sand changed from purple to steel, to grey, to yellow.
The palms whispered gently together, the water sang on its swift way to
the river, a faint movement everywhere heralded the coming of the day.
Motionless, Hahmed knelt beside Jill, whose snow-white face,
half-ridden in the folds of cloth, looked like some faint spring flower
in a world of shadows.
And then, as the woman whose unbound hair rippled in golden streams
about the Arab's feet, put out her hands to grasp her master's robe, a
long-drawn cry which spoke of pain and joy, death and ecstasy and Life,
crept over the sands, rising, rising to the very heavens, to sink back
in faintest moan to her who in that moment had fulfilled the miracle of
Love.
A hush fell upon the earth, a mighty stillness upon those two.
And then!
A little sound, soft as a bird's call at dawn, broke the silence of the
sands!
And at the little sound the man sprang upright, with hands and blazing
eyes upraised to heaven.
And as he stood towering over the motionless woman at his feet, the
sound of rejoicing was great in the land; for over the yellow sand,
tearing apart the last dim shadows of the night, up struck the sun's
first golden shaft, and as it spread, piling gold upon red, and red
upon gold, across the great plains and up to the very highest of high
heaven thundered the Mohammedan's tumultuous, triumphant hymn of praise.
"_La Allah, illa Allah! Muhammed rasul Allah!_"
THE END
[Transcriber's note: The word "Amourers" in Chapter XXXIII should
probably be "Armourers" (weapon makers).]
[Transcriber's note: In the "La Allah" line above, two characters are
supported only in Unicode. They are the second "a" in "Allah" and the
"a" in "illa", both of which should be a-macron (U+0101), and the "u"
in "rasul", which should be u-macron (U+016B).]