"Oh Lella Saïda, there is a message, of which I hardly dare to speak,"
whispered Noura to her mistress, when she brought supper for the two
sisters, the night when the way to the roof had been closed up.
"Tell me what it is, and do not be foolish," Saidee said sharply. Her
nerves were keyed to the breaking point, and she had no patience left.
It was almost a pleasure to visit her misery upon some one else. She
hated everybody and everything, because all hope was gone now. The door
to the roof was nailed shut; and she and Victoria were buried alive.
"But one sends the message who must not be named; and it is not even for
thee, lady. It is for the Little Rose, thy sister."
"If thou dost not speak out instantly, I will strike thee!" Saidee
exclaimed, on the verge of hysterical tears.
"And if I speak, still thou wilt strike! Be this upon thine own head, my
mistress. The Ouled Naïl has dared send her woman, saying that if the
Little Rose will visit her house after supper, it will be for the good
of all concerned, since she has a thing to tell of great importance. At
first I would have refused even to take the message, but her woman,
Hadda, is my cousin, and she feared to go back without some answer. The
Ouled Naïl is a demon when in a temper, and she would thrust pins into
Hadda's arms and thighs."
Saidee blushed with anger, disgustful words tingling on her tongue; but
she remained silent, her lips parted.
"Of course I won't go," said Victoria, shocked. The very existence of
Miluda was to her a dreadful mystery upon which she could not bear to
let her mind dwell.
"I'm not sure," Saidee murmured. "Let me think. This means something
very curious, I can't think what. But I should like to know. It can't
make things worse for us if you accept her invitation. It may make them
better. Will you go and see what the creature wants?"
"Oh, Saidee, how can I?"
"Because I ask it," Saidee answered, the girl's opposition deciding her
doubts. "She can't eat you."
"It isn't that I'm afraid----"
"I know! It's because of your loyalty to me. But if I send you, Babe,
you needn't mind. It will be for my sake."
"Hadda is waiting for an answer," Noura hinted.
"My sister will go. Is the woman ready to take her?"
"I will find out, lady."
In a moment the negress came back. "Hadda will lead the Little Rose to
her mistress. She is glad that it is to be now, and not later."
"Be very careful what you say, and forget nothing that _she_ says," was
Saidee's last advice. And it sounded very Eastern to Victoria.
She hated her errand, but undertook it without further protest, since it
was for Saidee's sake.
Hadda was old and ugly. She and Noura had been born in the quarter of
the freed Negroes, in the village across the river, and knew nothing of
any world beyond; yet all the wiliness and wisdom of female things,
since Eve--woman, cat and snake--glittered under their slanting eyelids.
Victoria had not been out of her sister's rooms and garden, except to
visit M'Barka in the women's guest-house, since the night when Maïeddine
brought her to the Zaouïa; and when she had time to think of her bodily
needs, she realized that she longed desperately for exercise. Physically
it was a relief to walk even the short distance between Saidee's house
and Miluda's; but her cheeks tingled with some emotion she could hardly
understand when she saw that the Ouled Naïl's garden-court was larger
and more beautiful than Saidee's.
Miluda, however, was not waiting for her in the garden. The girl was
escorted upstairs, perhaps to show her how much more important was the
favourite wife of the marabout than a mere Roumia, an unmarried maiden.
A meal had been cleared away, in a room larger and better furnished than
Saidee's and on the floor stood a large copper incense-burner, a thin
blue smoke filtering through the perforations, clouding the atmosphere
and loading it with heavy perfume. Behind the mist Victoria saw a divan,
spread with trailing folds of purple velvet, stamped with gold; and
something lay curled up on a huge tiger-skin, flung over pillows.
As the blue incense wreaths floated aside the curled thing on the tiger
skin moved, and the light from a copper lamp like Saidee's, streamed
through huge coloured lumps of glass, into a pair of brilliant eyes. A
delicate brown hand, ringed on each finger, waved away the smoke of a
cigarette it held, and Victoria saw a small face, which was like the
face of a perfectly beautiful doll. Never had she imagined anything so
utterly pagan; yet the creature was childlike, even innocent in its
expression, as a baby tigress might be innocent.
Having sat up, the little heathen goddess squatted in her shrine, only
bestirring herself to show the Roumia how beautiful she was, and what
wonderful jewellery she had. She thought, that without doubt, the girl
would run back jealously to the sister (whom Miluda despised) to pour
out floods of description. She herself had heard much of Lella Saïda,
and supposed that unfortunate woman had as eagerly collected information
about her; but it was especially piquant that further details of
enviable magnificence should be carried back by the forlorn wife's
sister.
The Ouled Naïl tinkled at the slightest movement, even with the heaving
of her bosom, as she breathed, making music with many necklaces, and
long earrings that clinked against them. Dozens of old silver cases,
tubes, and little jewelled boxes containing holy relics; hairs of
Mohammed's beard; a bit of web spun by the sacred spider which saved his
life; moles' feet blessed by marabouts, and texts from the Koran; all
these hung over Miluda's breast, on chains of turquoise and amber beads.
They rattled metallically, and her bracelets and anklets tinkled. Some
luscious perfume hung about her, intoxicatingly sweet. A thick, braided
clump of hair was looped on each side of the small face painted white as
ivory, and her eyes, under lashes half an inch long, were bright and
unhuman as those of an untamed gazelle.
"Wilt thou sit down?" she asked, waving the hand with the cigarette
towards a French chair, upholstered in red brocade. "The Sidi gave me
that seat because I asked for it. He gives me all I ask for."
"I will stand," answered Victoria.
"Oh, it is true, then, thou speakest Arab! I had heard so. I have heard
much of thee and of thy youth and beauty. I see that my women did not
lie. But perhaps thou art not as young as I am, though I have been a
wife for a year, and have borne a beautiful babe. I am not yet sixteen."
Victoria did not answer, and the Ouled Naïl gazed at her unwinkingly, as
a child gazes.
"Thou hast travelled much, even more than the marabout himself, hast
thou not?" she inquired, graciously. "I have heard that thou hast been
to England. Are there many Arab villages there, and is it true that the
King was deposed when the Sultan, the head of our faith, lost his
throne?"
"There are no Arab villages, and the King still reigns," said Victoria.
"But I think thou didst not send for me to ask these questions?"
"Thou art right. Yet there is no harm in asking them. I sent for thee,
for three reasons. One is, that I wished to see thee, to know if indeed
thou wert as beautiful as I; another is, that I had a thing to give
thee, and before I tell thee my third reason, thou shalt have the gift."
She fumbled in the tawny folds of the tiger-skin on which she lay, and
presently held out a bracelet, made of flexible squares of gold, like
scales, jewelled with different stones.
"It is thy wedding present from me," she said. "I wish to give it,
because it is not long since I myself was married, and because we are
both young. Besides, Si Maïeddine is a good friend of the marabout. I
have heard that he is brave and handsome, all that a young girl can most
desire in a husband."
"I am not going to marry Si Maïeddine," said Victoria. "I thank thee;
but thou must keep thy gift for his bride when he finds one."
"He has found her in thee. The marriage will be a week from to-morrow,
if Allah wills, and he will take thee away to his home. The marabout
himself has told me this, though he does not know that I have sent for
thee, and that thou art with me now."
"Allah does not will," said the girl.
"Perhaps not, since thy bridegroom-to-be lies ill with marsh fever, so
Hadda has told me. He came back from Algiers with the sickness heavy
upon him, caught in the saltpetre marshes that stretch between Biskra
and Touggourt. I know those marshes, for I was in Biskra with my mother
when she danced there; but she was careful, and we did not lie at night
in the dangerous regions where the great mosquitoes are. Men are never
careful, though they do not like to be ill, and thy bridegroom is
fretting. But he will be better in a few days if he takes the draughts
which the marabout has blessed for him; and if the wedding is not in a
week, it will be a few days later. It is in Allah's hands."
"I tell thee, it will be never," Victoria persisted. "And I believe thou
but sayest these things to torture me."
"Dost thou not love Si Maïeddine?" Miluda asked innocently.
"Not at all."
"Then it must be that thou lovest some other man. Dost thou, Roumia?"
"Thou hast no right to ask such questions."
"Be not angry, Roumia, for we are coming now to the great reason why I
sent for thee. It is to help thee. I wish to know whether there is a man
of thine own people thou preferest to Si Maïeddine."
"Why shouldst thou wish to help me? Thou hast never seen me till now."
"I will speak the truth with thee," said Miluda, "because thy face
pleases me, though I prefer my own. Thine is pure and good, like the
face of the white angel that is ever at our right hand; and even if I
should speak falsely, I think thou wouldst not be deceived. Before I saw
thee, I did not care whether thou wert happy or sad. It was nothing to
me; but I saw a way of getting thee and thy sister out of my husband's
house, and for a long time I have wished thy sister gone. Not that I am
jealous of her. I have not seen her face, but I know she is already old,
and if she were not friendless in our land, the Sidi would have put her
away at the time of my marriage to him, since long ago he has ceased to
care whether she lives or dies. But his heart is great, and he has kept
her under his roof for kindness' sake, though she has given him no
child, and is no longer a wife to him. I alone fill his life."
She paused, hoping perhaps that Victoria would answer; but the girl was
silent, biting her lip, her eyes cast down. So Miluda talked on, more
quietly.
"There is a wise woman in the city, who brings me perfumes and silks
which have come to Oued Tolga by caravan from Tunis. She has told me
that thy sister has ill-wished me, and that I shall never have a boy--a
real child--while Lella Saïda breathes the same air with me. That is the
reason I want her to be gone. I will not help thee to go, unless thou
takest her with thee."
"I will never, never leave this place unless we go together," Victoria
answered, deeply interested and excited now.
"That is well. And if she loves thee also, she would not go alone; so my
wish is to do what I can for both."
"What canst thou do?" the girl asked.
"I will tell thee. But first there is something to make clear. I was on
my roof to-day, when a young Roumi rode up to the Zaouïa on the road
from Oued Tolga. He looked towards the roofs, and I wondered. From mine,
I cannot see much of thy sister's roof, but I watched, and I saw an arm
outstretched, to throw a packet. Then I said to myself that he had come
for thee. And later I was sure, because my women told me that while he
talked with the marabout, the door which leads to thy sister's roof was
nailed up hastily, by command of the master. Some order must have gone
from him, unknown to the Roumi, while the two men were together. I could
coax nothing of the story from the Sidi when he came to me, but he was
vexed, and his brows drew together over eyes which for the first time
did not seem to look at me with pleasure."
"Thou hast guessed aright," Victoria admitted, thankful that Miluda's
suspicions concerned her affairs only, and not Saidee's. "The man who
came here was my friend. I care for him more than for any one in the
world, except my sister; and if I cannot marry him, I will die rather
than marry Si Maïeddine or any other."
"Then, unless I help thee, thou wilt have to die, for nothing which thou
alone, or thy sister can do, will open the gates for thee to go out,
except as Si Maïeddine's wife."
"Then help me," said Victoria, boldly, "and thou wilt be rid of us both
forever."
"It is with our wits we must work, not with our hands," replied the
Ouled Naïl. "The power of the marabout is great. He has many men to
serve him, and the gates are strong, while women are very, very weak.
Yet I have seen into the master's heart, and I can give thee a key which
will unlock the gates. Only it had better be done soon, for when Si
Maïeddine is well, he will fight for thee; and if thou goest forth free,
he will follow, and take thee in the dunes."
Victoria shivered, for the picture was vivid before her eyes, as Miluda
painted it. "Give me the key," she said in a low voice.
"The key of the master's heart is his son," the other answered, in a
tone that kept down anger and humiliation. "Even me he would sacrifice
to his boy. I know it well, and I hate the child. I pray for one of my
own, for because the Sidi loves me, and did not love the boy's mother,
he would care ten thousand times more for a child of mine. The wise
woman says so, and I believe it. When thy sister is gone, I shall have a
boy, and nothing left to wish for on earth. Send a message to thy lover,
saying that the marabout's only son is at school in Oued Tolga, the
city. Tell him to steal the child and hide it, making a bargain with the
marabout that he shall have it safely back, if he will let thee and thy
sister go; otherwise he shall never see it again."
"That would be a cruel thing to do, and my sister could not consent,"
said Victoria, "even if we were able to send a message."
"Hadda would send the message. A friend from the village is coming to
see her, and the master has no suspicion of me at present, as he has of
thee. We could send a letter, and Hadda would manage everything. But
there is not much time, for now while my husband is with Si Maïeddine,
treating him for his fever, is our only chance, to-night. We have
perhaps an hour in which to decide and arrange everything. After that,
his coming may be announced to me. And no harm would happen to the
child. The master would suffer in his mind for a short time, till he
decided to make terms, that is all. As for me, have no fear of my
betraying thee. Thou needst but revenge thyself by letting the master
know how I plotted for the stealing of his boy, for him to put me out of
his heart and house forever. Then I should have to kill myself with a
knife, or with poison; and I am young and happy, and do not desire to
die yet. Go now, and tell thy sister what I have said. Let her answer
for thee, for she knows this land and the people of it, and she is wiser
than thou."
Without another word or look at the beautiful pagan face, Victoria went
out of the room, and found Hadda waiting to hurry her away.