SIX ENCHANTED SOULS
"This is my great-great-grandfather," said the young man.
The room in which they stood was hung about on all the walls with rare
and beautiful rugs, and similar rugs covered the floor. Richly
embroidered cushions and delicate silk and cashmere shawls lay on the
few easy chairs that were disposed about the room. The bowl of the
hanging lamp, above the table, was of bits of amber and orange and ruby
glass, through which shone a subdued and mellow light. Near the ceiling
were three or four small openings, covered with iron gratings, and the
air in the apartment was pure, except for the odour of tobacco. The
figure on the divan was smoking a pipe; a water-pipe, whose long
flexible stem reached to the floor, where its bowl rested.
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black
eyes. His skin was very dark, and shriveled and wrinkled like the skin
of a dried apple. His cheek-bones seemed as if about to break through
his cheeks, and his lips were stretched back from his teeth, which were
black and broken. His hands were like the claws of a bird. Thin white
hair straggled over his tight dark scalp. He wore a robe of some soft
material, harmoniously mottled upon a ground of maroon, and on his feet
were slippers of red morocco, pointed upwards at the toes. His turban
lay upon the table beside him.
[Illustration: Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with
little beady black eyes.]
He was the smallest man the strangers had ever seen. After a searching
look at them with his beady eyes, he rose from the divan, laid down the
stem of his pipe, and stood up. He was not taller than Freddie. As he
stood by the divan, looking up at his visitors, he seemed indeed a mere
mummy of a man, likely to fall to pieces at a breath of air.
"You are welcome," he said, in a voice surprisingly strong. "I perceive
that you have come from a great distance. Permit me to inquire what
errand has brought you to your servant's poor habitation."
"I reckon we want to buy something," said Toby. "I don't know what,
exactly, but a chap by the name of Higginson, Captain Reuben Higginson,
he give us the direction, as you might say."
"Ah, yes," said Shiraz the Persian. "I remember him very well. I was
sorry to learn of his misfortune. An excellent man; a member of some
strange sect----"
"A Quaker," said Toby. "The paper he left said we might buy something
here, and here we are, ready to buy."
"I have long since retired from the rug business," said Shiraz, "but I
have brought with me here, as you may see, some of my choicest
treasures, as a slight solace in my seclusion." He glanced towards the
rugs on the walls. "I am reluctant to part with any of them, but I am
willing to make an exception, in view of your having made so long a
journey to see me. My son," said he to the young man, "bring hither the
Omar prayer-rug."
The young man took from one of the walls a small rug, and laid it at the
feet of Shiraz.
"You will immediately perceive," said the Persian, "the extreme beauty
of this rug. It is one of my rarest treasures. It is a prayer-rug from
the mosque of Omar at Isfahan; a Kalicheh of cut-pile fabric, with the
Sehna knot, as I need not tell you; made in Kurdistan three hundred
years ago; observe, if you please, the delicacy of the design and the
harmony of the colouring. Its possession is as a spring of water to the
desert Bedouin; as a palm with dates on the road to Mecca; as a word to
the believer from the mouth of the Prophet. Its price, to those who have
journeyed across the sea to buy it, is twelve copper pennies."
The Sly Old Fox stooped down and examined it. His eyes lit up with
pleasure. "Beautiful!" said he. "I have never seen a rug more beautiful;
it is a real work of--of--I will take it. At twelve pennies. It is
mine."
"No, no!" said Aunt Amanda. "You'll do nothing of the kind. It is
certainly the finest piece of carpet I have ever seen, and the price is
low enough, in all conscience. But we are not going to buy it. I am
sorry, sir, but we can't buy your rug. Show us something else."
Shiraz displayed his teeth more plainly than ever in a sly smile.
"Your servant is desolated," he replied. "I crave your pardon for
showing a trifle so far beneath your notice. My son, take it away. If
your excellencies will deign to overlook my error, I will produce an
article more worthy of your attention. This time I promise myself the
ecstasy of your approval."
"Pretty good line of talk," whispered Toby in Mr. Punch's ear.
"My son," continued Shiraz, "bring hither the Wishing Rug."
The young man took away the prayer-rug, and brought another from the
wall; a much larger one, large enough, indeed, for twenty people to
stand on. It was dingy and frayed, and in no way beautiful like the
other.
"A rug of the Tomb of Rustam," said Shiraz, "gained by the hero in
battle from the genie Akhnavid. It is the last of the Wishing Rugs. Its
property is, that it will transport to the farthest regions of the
earth, in the twinkling of an eye, those who sit upon it and but name
aloud the place of their desire. Excellencies," he said, addressing his
visitors very earnestly, "if it is your wish to return home, the moment
has arrived; you have only to sit upon this rug and wish yourselves at
home, and you will find yourselves there, safe and sound, before the
words shall have well left your lips. And the price is only twenty
pennies."
Every one of the party hesitated. A vision of the Old Tobacco Shop
entered each mind. It had never seemed so cozy, so quiet, so secure as
at that moment. How or when they would ever get there, in the natural
course of events, no one knew. If they did not seize this opportunity,
they might be lost forever. It was a chance such as they could scarcely
have hoped for.
"Could we take our belongings with us?" said the Sly Old Fox.
"All that can be piled on the rug," said Shiraz.
"Then I will buy it," said the Sly Old Codger. "I do not consider twenty
pennies too much for such a rug. The rug is mine."
"It's nothing of the sort," said Aunt Amanda, waking from deep thought.
"Nobody's going to buy the rug. I'm captain of this expedition, and my
orders is, to wait and see what's going to happen next. I'm sorry, sir,
but the rug ain't exactly what we want. You must show us something
else."
The Rug-Merchant appeared greatly mortified. "I do not know how I could
have made such a mistake," he said. "I should have known that these
little trifles could not interest you. I trust you will believe that I
meant no offense. I fear there is nothing in my poor collection which
merits your notice. Permit me to wish you a safe journey. Do you intend
to remain long in the City of Towers?"
"That won't do," said Toby. "You must show us something else."
The Rug-Merchant looked intently at Aunt Amanda. "You command it?" said
he.
"I do," said she.
"To hear is to obey," said Shiraz. "I tremble to think how contemptible
are the baubles I shall now offer you, but I trust you will not be angry
with your servant." He turned to the young man, and spoke to him in an
unknown tongue. "Be not offended, excellencies," he went on, "by your
poor servant's ignorance in the art of pleasing."
The young man disappeared behind one of the hanging rugs, and in a
moment returned with certain small objects, which he stood upon the
table in a row. They were eight hour-glasses, of a very ordinary kind,
much like those already seen in the booth outside. The sand in each one
was wholly in the upper glass, and was just beginning to trickle down
into the lower. The strangers were obviously disappointed.
"I fear your displeasure," said Shiraz, "but apart from my trifling
rugs, these are all I have to offer."
"And what," said the Sly Old Fox, "what may be the price of these
interesting objects?"
"The price," said Shiraz, fixing his beady eyes on Aunt Amanda, "the
price is this and nothing less: your treasure on the mules outside; your
share of the treasure on the mules."
Everyone gasped. The treasure which they had gone through so many perils
to secure, for these indifferent trinkets! A life of ease and plenty for
an hour-glass!
"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Excuse me for saying
it, but the--er--price appears to be a little bit high."
"It is too high for me," said the Sly Old Fox, positively. "I regret to
say it, but I am compelled to withdraw; I cannot go on at such a
figure. Please consider me out of it."
"And--er--me too," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.
"Well," said Toby, doubtfully, "it's a blamed hard thing to give up all
that treasure for one of these here little toys. I don't see my way
clear to doing it. What do you say, Aunt Amanda?"
"I'll do it," said Aunt Amanda, looking at Shiraz, whose eyes were still
on her. "I've come all this way to do it, and I'll do it. I ain't going
to back out now at the last minute. My mind's made up. Mr. Shiraz, I'll
buy an hour-glass."
"By crackey," said Toby, "then I will too. What about you, Freddie?"
"Oh, yes, indeed," said Freddie.
"Hi'll 'ave one myself," said Mr. Punch.
"After due consideration," said the Churchwarden, "I think I will buy
one also."
Mr. Hanlon nodded a vigorous assent.
The two Old Codgers, however, were firm in their refusal. They could not
be persuaded. They retired from the enterprise then and there.
Under the conduct of the young man, the two Old Codgers left the room,
and returned to the Committee who were waiting with the mules outside;
and with them went Toby and Mr. Punch and Mr. Hanlon, to bring back that
portion of the treasure which was to pay for the six hour-glasses.
This was a work of much difficulty, and occupied a great deal of time.
While it was going on, the Rug-Merchant, having first asked permission,
reclined again on the divan and resumed his pipe, while Aunt Amanda,
Freddie, and the Churchwarden seated themselves, at his invitation, and
watched him in silence.
The treasure was at length piled, complete, in a corner of the room.
Toby, Mr. Punch, and Mr. Hanlon returned for the last time, and without
the great-great-grandson of the Rug-Merchant.
"The others will wait outside for an hour," said Toby. "If we don't come
back by that time, they'll go on into the city without us."
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant laid down the stem of his pipe, and rising bowed
to Aunt Amanda with great deference.
"Permit me, most gracious lady," said he, "to see the fingers of your
left hand."
He took in his own right hand the third finger of Aunt Amanda's left,
and bent his eyes close over it. He straightened himself up with a long
breath, and crossing his arms upon his breast, made a low salaam.
"It is as I thought," said he. "The mark is here, on the third finger of
the left hand. Highness," said he, bowing lower, "I pray you accept your
servant's salutation on your return." And raising her hand to his lips,
he kissed it in a very courtly manner.
"Goodness alive!" said Aunt Amanda, turning as red as a rose, "you make
me feel too foolish for anything."
"You have been away a long time," said Shiraz, "but you have returned.
Happy am I to be the first to greet you on your return. You and the
others have all been enchanted. You are six enchanted souls, and in your
present shapes not one of you is himself. I suppose you do not know that
you are enchanted; you think that you are yourselves; is it not so? I
assure you it is a mistake; but I can put you in the way of correcting
your errors, and restoring yourselves to your true shapes, if you desire
it. Madam," said he, bowing again to Aunt Amanda, "I await your
commands."
"I reckon we all want to be corrected," said Aunt Amanda. "It's what
we've come here for. We've come a long way to this island, and for
nothing on earth but to be corrected, if there's any way to do it. If
you can do it, go ahead."
"Hearing is obedience," said Shiraz. "Please to take the hour-glasses."
Each one took up an hour-glass from the table and held it in his hand.
"It is necessary," said Shiraz, "to destroy the sands in the glasses. If
they can be destroyed, the enchantment will be over. There is no power
on earth which can destroy the sands but one, and that is the White Fire
of the Preserver. Will you risk the fire?"
"I will," said Aunt Amanda, now somewhat pale; and the others nodded
assent.
"Then I will give you the White Robes," said Shiraz. "Without them you
can not withstand the Fire."
He went to a wall and drew from behind the hangings a box, which he
opened on the table. From this box he took six white linen gowns, and at
his direction each put on one of the gowns. Freddie's was much too long,
and he was obliged to hold it up.
"Well," said Toby, "I always did look ridiculous in a night-gown, but
this beats--"
"Peace," said Shiraz. "The Fire will not harm you now. Two things only
are necessary: to fear nothing, and to hold tight to the hour-glasses."
With these words he clapped his hands, and from behind the hangings on
the rear wall stepped a black man, clad in a robe similar to the others.
To this man the Persian spoke in some strange tongue, and the man bowed.
"Now," said Shiraz, "you will follow my servant. Farewell, and peace be
with you."