"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly."
I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who
dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly
before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost
burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was
casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here
on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the
leopard.
At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained
ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy.
Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor.
Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat
room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear
presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to
take me.
Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly
glimmering red and green, appeared before us.
The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose
window was cut.
I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me
the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when
I had found myself in the presence of Antinea.
"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he
would not give a dangerously loud growl.
I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell
upon the floor, green and red.
A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better
control of King Hiram who was getting nervous.
The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was
completely dark. But the garden on which it gave shone under a
clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not
break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter.
I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my
knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my
goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means.
Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices.
King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash.
He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices
seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among
the scattered cushions.
My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of
cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me.
Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had
stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound.
Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I
opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered
feebly.
"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet."
And I put my arms about his powerful neck.
I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook
with happiness.
In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the
middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and
drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems.
They were the white Tuareg.
A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them.
Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow.
The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light
and shadow, made a strange etching.
They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous
voices.
Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the
impatient little beast.
"Go, boy."
He leapt with a sharp yelp.
And what I had foreseen happened.
The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white
Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him
into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of
another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was
standing.
"There!" I thought.
The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One
realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon
the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in
one direction, the copper cups, in the other.
Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with
low oaths.
I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into
the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor,
down which King Hiram had just disappeared.
At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which
seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way.
One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I
was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated.
"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back
politely to my room."
The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber
of Antinea.
The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the
right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left
was dim.
Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a _guignol_
is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its
opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I
noticed such a _guignol_ at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat
in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm.
There I could see and hear everything.
I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room,
except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow,
but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming
stuffs and furs.
Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver
tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her
feet, licking them madly.
The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the
other on his forehead, saluting.
Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man.
"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be
alone."
"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly.
"The doors were not closed, then?"
The slave did not answer.
"Shall I take him away?" he asked.
And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously,
expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply.
"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea.
She tapped nervously on the little silver tray.
"What is the captain doing?" she asked.
"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa
answered.
"Has he said nothing?"
"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer."
Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly.
"Did he say nothing else?"
"No, mistress," said the man.
A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead.
"Go get him," she said brusquely.
Bowing, the Targa left the room.
I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had
he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He
had wanted to see me and been unable to!
My eyes never left Antinea's.
She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first
interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not
a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic.
Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight
shoulders and her bare arms.
Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did
not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering
Cleopatra.
Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her.
An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the
wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw
her nude.
A splendid and bitter sight!--A woman who thinks herself alone,
standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to
subdue!
The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible
columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in
which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me,
standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror.
Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into
the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such
a transformation to believe it possible.
Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa.
He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression
of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt
that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never.
He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture
inviting him to be seated.
She smiled at him.
"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send
for you at so late an hour."
Morhange did not move an eyelash.
"Have you considered it well?" she demanded.
Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply.
I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to continue
smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings.
"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is
to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise
to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your
captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?"
"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said
Morhange simply.
I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at
Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing
the one wish he had expressed.
But Antinea continued calmly:
"That is why I sent for you--to tell you that you are going to see him
again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me
even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me
to your will--I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however
that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow
Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you
satisfied?"
"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile.
"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for
the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I
shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time,
to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my
government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers
and several cannon."
Antinea was standing up, very pale.
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First
threats, then promises."
Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her
with a sort of grave pity.
"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally.
"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied.
"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine."
"I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm.
Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my
companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face.
He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together
with a strange mixture of force and gentleness.
King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes
of Morhange held him fascinated.
"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea.
It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was
overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply.
"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he
would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name."
So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From
the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to
him.
"Listen," she said.
How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless
for the first time!
"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I
hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your
life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...."
"I have remembered all that," said Morhange.
"A last time," she repeated.
The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely
noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of
worldliness remained.
"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking.
Morhange was not even looking at her.
"As you will," she said.
Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa
appeared.
"Leave the room!"
Morhange, his head held high, went out.
Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom
I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl.
So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped
out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in
the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her
mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... _O tremblant
coeur humain_....
Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the
langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice,
the voice which is murmuring:
"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it."
My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft,
nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems
as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant
censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream:
"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it."
Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in
her great eyes.
Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a
little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong
with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she
struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver
head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death....