CONCERNING A CARPET
Frank Forester was the son of the owner of a large oriental carpet
business, whose headquarters was in Constantinople, with branches in
several parts of Asia Minor and Persia. Except for his school years in
England, Frank had lived all his life in the East. He spoke Turkish
like a native, and could make himself understood in Arabic and in the
various local dialects in which Turkish, Arabic, and Persian all have
component parts.
For some months he had been in charge of the small branch house at
Erzerum, where he conducted the business with the aid of Joseph, his
Armenian clerk. A few days before the incident just related, a bazar
rumour had come to his ears which suggested a promising stroke of
business. It was to the effect that an important Kurdish chief, living
about two days' journey to the south, had been so heavily squeezed by
the Turkish governor of the province that he felt himself forced to
raise money by parting with a very valuable old Persian carpet that had
long been an heirloom in his family. Tradition said that it was part of
the loot obtained by an ancestor of the chief at the sack of Shiraz
during one of the civil wars that ravaged Persia in the seventeenth
century. It held among his hereditary possessions the same place as a
precious jewel or an Old Master among the treasures of a western house.
The rumour that it was coming into the market caused as much excitement
among carpet dealers as the announcement of the approaching sale of a
Correggio or a Rembrandt would cause among the connoisseurs of New York.
Frank Forester was thrown into a flutter when the first whispers reached
him. He had not hitherto taken an important part in his father's
business, and it was only recently that he had been placed in charge of
a branch. The chance of signalizing his stewardship by securing the
carpet appealed to his imagination as well as his business instincts.
But the problem was, how to bring off a deal with the chief. The old
Kurd was not likely to condescend to travel to the town. On the other
hand there would be some risk in making a journey to his mountain
fastness. The country in which it lay bore the worst of reputations.
Even the Turkish authorities never ventured into it without a strong
military escort, amounting in fact to an expedition. The peaceful,
timid Armenian traders would have ventured into a den of lions as soon
as into the hill country where for centuries no Armenian had ever
penetrated except as a captive.
Frank's interest in the matter was complicated and heightened by
business rivalry. A year or two before, a German named Hermann Wonckhaus
had come to Erzerum and set up in business as a carpet dealer next door
to Mr. Forester. The Englishman, who had been established there for
many years, felt too sure of his position to regard the arrival of his
competitor with any alarm. He met him, indeed, in the friendliest
spirit, and at first did him some small services in a business and a
social way. But it soon became clear that Wonckhaus was a snake in the
grass. There were signs that his object in settling next door to Mr.
Forester was to keep a watch on him, with a view to discovering with
whom he traded and endeavouring to cut into his connection. Once or
twice Mr. Forester found himself forestalled in business transactions by
the German, and as soon as he became aware of his rival's crooked
methods he put himself on his guard and maintained only the coolest of
relations with him. Still, he was not greatly troubled. The Armenian,
shifty as he may be himself in business, respects rectitude in others,
and Mr. Forester knew that if it ever came to a straight pull between
himself and the German the result would be in his favour. He lived very
simply, without parade; Wonckhaus, on the other hand, kept up a
considerable style, and aimed at a kind of leadership in the small
European colony. He was a man of good presence, great ability and
certain social gifts, by means of which he became a personage; but
though he had pushed himself into a position of influence he was always
regarded with some distrust by the Europeans other than his own
countrymen; and the natives, very shrewd in their silent estimate of
western strangers, had taken his measure pretty thoroughly.
Knowing that the bazar rumour would certainly have reached Wonckhaus's
ears, Frank was anxious to lose no time in opening negotiations with the
Kurdish chief for the purchase of the carpet. It was obvious that his
best course was to make a personal visit to the owner. He sent for a
Kurd whom his father had sometimes employed and found trustworthy, and
enlisted his services as guide to the distant stronghold. Ali confessed
that the journey would entail some risk, but he promised that he would
do his utmost to ensure the safety of the party, and in fact they had
come without adventure within a mile or two of their destination when
the appearance of Wonckhaus on the track showed that he had again
forestalled his rival. The only question now was, had he managed to
strike a bargain with the chief and brought away the carpet among his
packs?
When Frank resumed his journey, he discussed the chances rather
anxiously with Ali. The Kurd took a pessimistic view.
"Abdi is a nephew of the chief Mirza Aga," he said. "Does he not always
boast of his relationship in the bazar? He is a liar by nature, but in
that he speaks the truth. Therefore it is that the German has taken him
as guide. Without doubt Abdi said to him: 'I am in high favour with my
uncle, Allah be good to him, and when I say to him, this is the
excellency that will give a good price for the carpet, he will bless me,
and perhaps bestow upon me some poor fraction of the money.' Without
doubt we have eaten the dust of our journey for nothing."
"Well, we'll go on and prove it. Having come so far I won't go back
without knowing the truth."
A march of a little over an hour brought the party to a narrow side
track that wound up into the hills. It was some time before a turn in
the toilsome ascent opened a view of the chief's stronghold. Perched
high up on the mountain side, it resembled in the distance a child's
building of wooden bricks; but its massive proportions and structure
became impressive as the travellers gradually mounted towards it. In
this country of mean hovels its appearance was palatial. The lower part
consisted of solid masonry broken by one large gate and two or three
small square windows, unglazed and shutterless. Upon this stout pillars
supported a number of arches surrounding an open chamber or arcade
rectangular in shape and covered with a flat roof. To the left of the
arches was a second storey whose walls were as solid as those of the
lower; within these, as Frank knew, were the women's apartments. The
whole place was silent; to all appearance it might have been
uninhabited.
Ali went forward to the great gate and shouted for admittance. After a
while a peep-hole was exposed by the sliding of a small wooden hatch,
and a man inquired his errand, then slid the hatch to, and departed.
Frank had become accustomed to oriental sluggishness and the need for
patience. Presently the gate-keeper returned and held a lengthy
conversation with Ali, after which he retired again.
"What are we waiting for?" asked Frank: remaining in the background he
had not heard the colloquy.
"Wallahy! Mirza Aga will not show the light of his countenance to a
German, and required me to swear by the beard of the Prophet that your
nobility is not German but English."
"That's promising," said Frank cheerfully. "It looks as if nephew Abdi
is not quite such a favourite as he pretends."
"Allah is wise!" said Ali.
In a few minutes the massive gate swung open, giving admission to a
large courtyard. Here a handsome youth, the chief's grandson, came
forward with a smile of welcome. Frank dismounted, gave his horse into
the care of an attendant, and followed the youth up a stately stone
staircase, ornamented on either side with richly-carved oak balusters,
into the salamlik or presence chamber of the old chief. It was a lofty
and spacious apartment, the walls and ceiling composed of curiously
carved cedar wood. The floor was covered with thick Persian rugs; the
walls were embellished with texts from the Koran, and blunderbusses,
scimitars, curved daggers and other weapons arranged in tasteful
patterns. At the further end a fire of logs roared in a huge fireplace,
the wall above being decorated with arabesques and scrolls.
Near the fireplace, reclining among an exuberance of silk pillows and
cushions, was the old, white-bearded, turbaned chief, smoking a long
chibouque. At the entrance of his visitor he rose, bowed several times,
murmured "Salam aleikam," and clapped his hands. An attendant
immediately came in, bearing a number of rugs and pillows which he
spread on the floor near the chief. Luxurious as they appeared, Frank
knew that they were probably swarming with vermin, for Kurdish
magnificence takes no note of such trifles, and he racked his brains for
an excuse to avoid the use of them. Explaining that in his country such
soft seats were only proper to the ladies, which seemed to amuse the
chief, he squatted cross-legged on the floor, and spent some minutes in
exchanging the flowery salutations usual in oriental society. Then the
chief, who had already learnt the object of his visit from Ali through
the gate-keeper, invited him to partake of supper, declaring that there
must be no talk of business that night. Without waiting for an
acceptance, he clapped his hands again, and servants brought in a
profusion of dishes--meat, fish, poultry, and various fruits--a pleasant
meal after the long day's journey, even though Frank had to use his
fingers instead of a knife and fork. The meal was prolonged; fatigue
and the heat of the room made Frank sleepy; and he was glad when the old
man's grandson came to conduct him to the guest chamber.
"He has honesty and benevolence written all over him," thought Frank, as
he stretched himself, rolled in his greatcoat, on the bare floor, after
bundling the doubtful mattresses and cushions provided for him into a
corner. "I rather think I may score off Wonckhaus this time after all."
Next morning came the business interview.
"You must know, O welcome guest," said the old man, "that yesterday
there came to me one from Erzerum, under the guidance of a graceless
nephew of mine, a man in whom there is no truth or virtue at all. The
stranger, a man of the German race, they told me, wished to buy my
carpet, and offered me a sum that would scarcely have purchased the
clothes on my back. Wallahy! Did he wish to pull my beard? I answered
him shortly that I was no bazar merchant to haggle and chaffer;
whereupon he made excuses, and perceiving that it was truth I said, he
offered a price that was fair, and one that I was fain to accept. But
lo! when I asked him to pay over the money, the infidel spoke of a
written paper, for which, he told me, they would pay me money in
Stamboul. Wallahy! His tongue was smooth, but his eye was deceitful.
I said forthright that I would not trust him. Little I know of the
German race; they are a new kind of Giaour to me; but so much as I have
heard of them did not tempt me to part with my carpet against a German
promise. Whereupon our words waxed hot, and Abdi my worthless nephew
must needs take part with the German--verily he hoped to fill his pouch
at my expense; and my wrath was kindled, and I bade the German depart.
And Abdi my nephew flouted me to my beard, and I spoke my mind freely to
him, a dog that slinks about the houses of better men, snapping up what
falls, and licking what is cast out. And they departed, he and the
German.
"Now therefore come and look upon the carpet."
He conducted Frank through the open arcade into a lofty room on the
other side of the house. On the way Frank throbbed with mingled hope
and fear. Orientals were prone to exaggeration: the much-talked-of
carpet might turn out to be a very ordinary specimen, even a modern
fabric cunningly "faked," for he was aware of the tricks practised by
dishonest dealers to delude the unwary. Once, indeed, he had himself
detected by the sense of smell the use of coffee to give a new rug the
mellow tones of age. But hope was stronger within him than fear. The old
chief looked honest: he had refrained from boasts and the flowery puffs
of the huckster, and Frank felt that the carpet was probably genuine,
though possibly not quite so valuable as rumour declared.
The old man opened the door, and stood back with a courteous inclination
of the head to allow his visitor to pass in before him. He did not
speak a word. Frank halted in the doorway, transfixed with wonder and
delight. Hanging on the wall opposite was a beautiful rug, about
eighteen feet by twelve, in which his expert eye discerned at once an
antique product of the looms of Khorassan. He had lived among carpets
from childhood, and knew the characteristic features of all the many
kinds of eastern fabrics. On a deep blue ground were woven floral
patterns in magenta, red, and blue, with spots of ivory here and there;
and on the wide border was the unmistakeable palm-leaf design of
Khorassan, with details that proved it to be the workmanship of a
particular family of weavers, renowned for its artistic ornament and
harmonious colouring. Age had mellowed the tints, but their brilliance
was little diminished, for the ancient dyers had secrets which are the
despair of the chemists of to-day.
He crossed the room and touched the surface of the rug. It was soft as
velvet. He examined the knots and the stitches, felt the thickness of
the pile, then turned round.
"It is magnificent, chief," he said.
"It is good work, effendim," replied the chief. "My family has
possessed it for two hundred years."
"Well now, let me tell you my method of business. We are not hucksters
of the bazar, you and I. Their custom is to ask more than they expect
to get, or to offer less than they are prepared to pay. That is not my
way. I offer at once the sum which I am ready to give, and I never make
a second offer. If it is acceptable, well and good; if not, we part
friends."
"That is well, effendim. My ears are open."
"I will pay you L500 Turkish for the carpet."
The old Kurd reflected a moment or two. Then he said:
"That is a fair price, effendim. The carpet is yours."
"Thank you. I have not brought the money with me; it is dangerous
country, chief," he added with a smile. "But I will either send it you
when I return to Erzerum, or----"
"It is enough, effendim," interrupted the chief. "You are an
Englishman: your word is good. Your countrymen, it is true, are not the
good friends of mine that they used to be. It is told me, indeed, that
the German Emperor, and not your King, is willing to help us to regain
the lands we lost in the late disastrous war. But I trust the word of
an Englishman. The Germans I do not know: that one who came to me came
with my nephew Abdi, the master of lies! Take the carpet: it is yours.
You may send the money when you will."
"I thank you for your confidence, chief; but such an arrangement would
not be fair to you. Something might happen to me; you would have no
security. I will ask you to take a draft on the Ottoman Bank."
He took out his cheque-book and fountain pen, and wrote the draft, which
the chief accepted with a deprecating bow. Orders were given for the
carpet to be rolled up, covered with sacking, and placed on the back of
one of the mules. The business having been thus satisfactorily
concluded, the chief invited Frank to share his morning meal, after
which he accompanied him with a small escort of horsemen for a few miles
on his return journey.