'Our laws and our worship on thee thou shalt take,
And this shalt thou first do for Zulema's sake.'
SCOTT.
When Arthur Hope dashed back from the party on the prow of the wrecked
tartane in search of little Ulysse, he succeeded in grasping the child,
but at the same moment a huge breaker washed him off the
slipperily-sloping deck, and after a scarce conscious struggle he found
himself, still retaining his clutch of the boy, in the trough between it
and another. He was happily an expert swimmer, and holding the little
fellow's clothes in his teeth, he was able to avoid the dash, and to rise
on another wave. Then he perceived that he was no longer near the
vessel, but had been carried out to some little distance, and his efforts
only succeeded in keeping afloat, not in approaching the shore. Happily
a plank drifted so near him that he was able to seize it and throw
himself across it, thus obtaining some support, and being able to raise
the child farther above the water.
At the same time he became convinced that a strong current, probably from
a river or stream, was carrying him out to sea, away from the bay. He
saw the black heads of two or three of the Moorish crew likewise floating
on spars, and yielding themselves to the stream, and this made him better
satisfied to follow their example. It was a sort of rest, and gave him
time to recover from the first exhaustion to convince himself that the
little boy was not dead, and to lash him to the plank with a
handkerchief.
By and by--he knew not how soon--calls and shouts passed between the
Moors; only two seemed to survive, and they no longer obeyed the
direction of the current, but turned resolutely towards the land, where
Arthur dimly saw a green valley opening towards the sea. This was a much
severer effort, but by this time immediate self-preservation had become
the only thought, and happily both wind and the very slight tide were
favourable, so that, just as the sun sank beneath the western waves,
Arthur felt foothold on a sloping beach of white sand, even as his powers
became exhausted. He struggled up out of reach of the sea, and then sank
down, exhausted and unconscious.
His first impression was of cries and shrieks round him, as he gasped and
panted, then saw as in a dream forms flitting round him, and then--feeling
for the child and missing him--he raised himself in consternation, and
the movement was greeted by fresh unintelligible exclamations, while a
not unkindly hand lifted him up. It belonged to a man in a sort of loose
white garment and drawers, with a thin dark-bearded face; and Arthur,
recollecting that the Spanish word _nino_ passed current for child in
_lingua Franca_, uttered it with an accent of despairing anxiety. He was
answered with a volley of words that he only understood to be in a
consoling tone, and the speaker pointed inland. Various persons, among
whom Arthur saw his recent shipmates, seemed to be going in that
direction, and he obeyed his guide, though scarcely able to move from
exhaustion and cold, the garments he had retained clinging about him.
Some one, however, ran down towards him with a vessel containing a
draught of sour milk. This revived him enough to see clearly and follow
his guides. After walking a distance, which appeared to him most
laborious, he found himself entering a sort of village, and was ushered
through a courtyard into a kind of room. In the centre a fire was
burning; several figures were busy round it, and in another moment he
perceived that they were rubbing, chafing, and otherwise restoring his
little companion.
Indeed Ulysse had just recovered enough to be terribly frightened, and as
his friend's voice answered his screams, he sprang from the kind brown
hands, and, darting on Arthur, clung to him with face hidden on his
shoulder. The women who had been attending to him fell back as the white
stranger entered, and almost instantly dry clothes were brought, and
while Arthur was warming himself and putting them on, a little table
about a foot high was set, the contents of a cauldron of a kind of soup
which had been suspended over the fire were poured into a large round
green crock, and in which all were expected to dip their spoons and
fingers. Little Ulysse was exceedingly amazed, and observed that _ces
gens_ were not _bien eleves_ to eat out of the dish; but he was too
hungry to make any objection to being fed with the wooden spoon that had
been handed to Arthur; and when the warm soup, and the meat floating in
it, had refreshed them, signs were made to them to lie down on a mat
within an open door, and both were worn out enough to sleep soundly.
It was daylight when Arthur was awakened by poor little Ulysse sitting up
and crying out for his _bonne_, his mother, and sister, 'Oh! take me to
them,' he cried; 'I do not like this dark place.'
For dark the room was, being windowless, though the golden sunlight could
be seen beyond the open doorway, which was under a sort of cloister or
verandah overhung by some climbing plant. Arthur, collecting himself,
reminded the child how the waves had borne them away from the rest, with
earnest soothing promises of care, and endeavouring to get back to the
rest. 'Say your prayers that God will take care of you and bring you
back to your sister,' Arthur added, for he did not think it possible that
the child's mother should have been saved from the waves; and his heart
throbbed at thoughts of his promise to the poor lady.
'But I want my _bonne_,' sighed Ulysse; 'I want my clothes. This is an
ugly _robe de nuit_, and there is no bed.'
'Perhaps we can find your clothes,' said Arthur. 'They were too wet to
be kept on last night.'
So they emerged into the court, which had a kind of farmyard appearance;
women with rows of coins hanging over their brows were milking cows and
goats, and there was a continuous confusion of sound of their voices, and
the lowing and bleating of cattle. At the appearance of Arthur and the
boy, there was a general shout, and people seemed to throng in to gaze at
them, the men handsome, stately, and bearded, with white full drawers,
and a bournouse laid so as first to form a flat hood over the head, and
then belted in at the waist, with a more or less handsome sash, into
which were stuck a spoon and knife, and in some cases one or two pistols.
They did not seem ill-disposed, though their language was perfectly
incomprehensible. Ulysse's clothes were lying dried by the hearth and no
objection was made to his resuming them. Arthur made gestures of washing
or bathing, and was conducted outside the court, to a little stream of
pure water descending rapidly to the sea. It was so cold that Ulysse
screamed at the touch, as Arthur, with more spectators than he could have
desired, did his best to perform their toilettes. He had divested
himself of most of his own garments for the convenience of swimming, but
his pockets were left and a comb in them; and though poor Mademoiselle
Julienne would have been shocked at the result of his efforts, and the
little silken laced suit was sadly tarnished with sea water, Ulysse
became such an astonishing sight that the children danced round him, the
women screamed with wonder, and the men said 'Mashallah!' The young
Scotsman's height was perhaps equally amazing, for he saw them pointing
up to his head as if measuring his stature.
He saw that he was in a village of low houses, with walls of unhewn
stone, enclosing yards, and set in the midst of fruit-trees and gardens.
Though so far on in the autumn there was a rich luxuriant appearance;
roots and fruits, corn and flax, were laid out to dry, and girls and boys
were driving the cattle out to pasture. He could not doubt that he had
landed among a settled and not utterly uncivilised people, but he was too
spent and weary to exert himself, or even to care for much beyond present
safety; and had no sooner returned to his former quarters, and shared
with Ulysse a bowl of curds, than they both feel asleep again in the
shade of the gourd plant trained on a trellised roof over the wall.
When he next awoke, Ulysse was very happily at play with some little
brown children, as if the sports of childhood defied the curse of Babel,
and a sailor from the tartane was being greeted by the master of the
house. Arthur hoped that some communication would now be possible, but,
unfortunately, the man knew very little of the _lingua Franca_ of the
Mediterranean, and Arthur knew still less. However, he made out that he
was the only one of the shipwrecked crew who had managed to reach the
land, and that this was a village of Moors--settled agricultural Moors,
not Arabs, good Moslems--who would do him no harm. This, and he pointed
to a fine-looking elderly man, was the sheyk of the village, Abou Ben
Zegri, and if the young Giaours would conform to the true faith all would
be _salem_ with them. Arthur shook his head, and tried by word and sign
to indicate his anxiety for the rest of his companions. The sailor threw
up his hands, and pointed towards the sea, to show that he believed them
to be all lost; but Arthur insisted that five--marking them off on his
fingers--were on _gebal_, a rock, and emphatically indicated his desire
of reaching them. The Moor returned the word 'Cabeleyzes,' with gestures
signifying throat-cutting and slavery, also that these present hosts
regarded them as banditti. How far off they were it was not possible to
make out, for of course Arthur's own sensations were no guide; but he
knew that the wreck had taken place early in the afternoon, and that he
had come on shore in the dusk, which was then at about five o'clock.
There was certainly a promontory, made by the ridge of a hill, and also a
river between him and any survivors there might be.
This was all that he could gather, and he was not sure of even thus much,
but he was still too much wearied and battered for any exertion of
thought or even anxiety. Three days' tempest in a cockle-shell of a
ship, and then three hours' tossing on a plank, had left him little but
the desire of repose, and the Moors were merciful and let him alone. It
was a beautiful place--that he already knew. A Scot, and used to the sea-
coast, his eye felt at home as it ranged to the grand heights in the dim
distance, with winter caps of snow, and shaded in the most gorgeous tints
of colouring forests beneath, slopes covered with the exquisite green of
young wheat. Autumn though it was, the orange-trees, laden with fruit,
the cork-trees, ilexes, and fan-palms, gave plenty of greenery, shading
the gardens with prickly pear hedges; and though many of the fruit-trees
had lost their leaves, fig, peach, and olive, and mulberry, caper plants,
vines with foliage of every tint of red and purple, which were trained
over the trellised courts of the houses, made everything have a look of
rural plenty and peace, most unlike all that Arthur had ever heard or
imagined of the Moors, who, as he owned to himself, were certainly not
all savage pirates and slave-drivers. The whole within was surrounded by
a stone wall, with a deep horse-shoe-arched gateway, the fields and
pastures lying beyond with some more slightly-walled enclosures meant for
the protection of the flocks and herds at night.
He saw various arts going on. One man was working in iron over a little
charcoal fire, with a boy to blow up his bellows, and several more were
busied over some pottery, while the women alternated their grinding
between two mill stones, and other domestic cares, with spinning,
weaving, and beautiful embroidery. To Arthur, who looked on, with no one
to speak to except little Ulysse, it was strangely like seeing the life
of the Israelites in the Old Testament when they dwelt under their own
vines and fig-trees--like reading a chapter in the Bible, as he said to
himself, as again and again he saw some allusion to Eastern customs
illustrated. He was still more struck--when, after the various herds of
kine, sheep, and goats, with one camel, several asses, and a few slender-
limbed Barbary horses had been driven in for the night--by the sight of
the population, as the sun sank behind the mountains, all suspending
whatever they were about, spreading their prayer carpets, turning
eastwards, performing their ablutions, and uttering their brief prayer
with one voice so devoutly that he was almost struck with awe.
'Are they saying their prayers?' whispered Ulysse, startled by the
instant change in his play-fellows, and as Arthur acquiesced, 'Then they
are good.'
'If it were the true faith,' said Arthur, thinking of the wide difference
between this little fellow and Estelle; but though not two years younger,
Ulysse was far more childish than his sister, and when she was no longer
present to lead him with her enthusiasm, sank at once to his own level.
He opened wide his eyes at Arthur's reply, and said, 'I do not see their
idols.'
'They have none,' said Arthur, who could not help thinking that Ulysse
might look nearer home for idols--but chiefly concerned at the moment to
keep the child quiet, lest he should bring danger on them by
interruption.
They were sitting in the embowered porch of the sheyk's court when, a few
seconds after the villagers had risen up from their prayer, they saw a
figure enter at the village gateway, and the sheyk rise and go forward.
There were low bending in salutation, hands placed on the breast, then
kisses exchanged, after which the Sheyk Abou Ben Zegri went out with the
stranger, and great excitement and pleasure seemed to prevail among the
villagers, especially the women. Arthur heard the word 'Yusuf' often
repeated, and by the time darkness had fallen on the village, the sheyk
ushered the guest into his court, bringing with him a donkey with some
especially precious load--which was removed; after which the supper was
served as before in the large low apartment, with a handsomely tiled
floor, and an opening in the roof for the issue of the smoke from the
fire, which became agreeable in the evening at this season. Before
supper, however, the stranger's feet and hands were washed by a black
slave in Eastern fashion; and then all, as before, sat on mats or
cushions round the central bowl, each being furnished with a spoon and
thin flat soft piece of bread to dip into the mess of stewed kid, flakes
of which might be extracted with the fingers.
The women, who had fastened a piece of linen across their faces, ran
about and waited on the guests, who included three or four of the
principal men of the village, as well as the stranger, who, as Arthur
observed, was not of the uniform brown of the rest, but had some colour
in his cheeks, light eyes, and a ruddy beard, and also was of a larger
frame than these Moors, who, though graceful, lithe, and exceedingly
stately and dignified, hardly reached above young Hope's own shoulder.
Conversation was going on all the time, and Arthur soon perceived that he
was the subject of it. As soon as the meal was over, the new-comer
addressed him, to his great joy, in French. It was the worst French
imaginable--perhaps more correctly _lingua Franca_, with a French instead
of an Arabic foundation, but it was more comprehensible than that of the
Moorish sailor, and bore some relation to a civilised language; besides
which there was something indescribably familiar in the tone of voice,
although Arthur's good French often missed of being comprehended.
'Son of a great man? Ambassador, French!' The greatness seemed
impressed, but whether ambassador was understood was another thing,
though it was accepted as relating to the boy.
'Secretary to the Ambassador' seemed to be an equal problem. The man
shook his head, but he took in better the story of the wreck, though,
like the sailor, he shook his head over the chance of there being any
survivors, and utterly negatived the idea of joining them. The great
point that Arthur tried to convey was that there would be a very
considerable ransom if the child could be conveyed to Algiers, and he
endeavoured to persuade the stranger, who was evidently a sort of
travelling merchant, and, as he began to suspect, a renegade, to convey
them thither; but he only got shakes of the head as answers, and
something to the effect that they were a good deal out of the Dey's reach
in those parts, together with what he feared was an intimation that they
were altogether in the power of Sheyk Abou Ben Zegri.
They were interrupted by a servant of the merchant, who came to bring him
some message as well as a pipe and tobacco. The pipe was carried by a
negro boy, at sight of whom Ulysse gave a cry of ecstasy, 'Juba! Juba!
Grandmother's Juba! Why do not you speak to me?' as the little black, no
bigger than Ulysse himself, grinned with all his white teeth, quite
uncomprehending.
'Ah! my poor laddie,' exclaimed Arthur in his native tongue, which he
often used with the boy, 'it is only another negro. You are far enough
from home.'
The words had an astonishing effect on the merchant. He turned round
with the exclamation, 'Ye'll be frae Scotland!'
'And so are you!' cried Arthur, holding out his hand.
'Tak tent, tak tent,' said the merchant hastily, yet with a certain
hesitation, as though speaking a long unfamiliar tongue. 'The loons
might jalouse our being overfriendly thegither.'
Then he returned to the sheyk, to whom he seemed to be making
explanations, and presenting some of his tobacco, which probably was of a
superior quality in preparation to what was grown in the village. They
solemnly smoked together and conversed, while Arthur watched them
anxiously, relieved that he had found an interpreter, but very doubtful
whether a renegade could be a friend, even though he were indeed a fellow-
countryman.
It was not till several pipes had been consumed, and the village worthies
had, with considerable ceremony, taken leave, that the merchant again
spoke to Arthur. 'I'll see ye the morn; I hae tell'd the sheyk we are
frae the same parts. Maybe I can serve you, if ye ken what's for your
guid, but I canna say mair the noo.'
The sheyk escorted him out of the court, for he slept in one of the two
striped horse-hair tents, which had been spread within the enclosures
belonging to the village, around which were tethered the mules and asses
that carried his wares. Arthur meanwhile arranged his little charge for
the night.
He felt that among these enemies to their faith he must do what was in
his power to keep up that of the child, and not allow his prayers to be
neglected; but not being able to repeat the Latin forms, and thinking
them unprofitable to the boy himself, he prompted the saying of the Creed
and Lord's Prayer in English, and caused them to be repeated after him,
though very sleepily and imperfectly.
All the men of the establishment seemed to take their night's rest on a
mat, wrapped in a bournouse, wherever they chanced to find themselves,
provided it was under shelter; the women in some _penetralia_ beyond a
doorway, though they were not otherwise secluded, and only partially
veiled their faces at sight of a stranger. Arthur had by this time made
out that the sheyk, who was a very handsome man over middle-age, seemed
to have two wives; one probably of his own age, and though withered up
into a brown old mummy, evidently the ruler at home, wearing the most
ornaments, and issuing her orders in a shrill, cracked tone. There was a
much younger and handsome one, the mother apparently of two or three
little girls from ten or twelve years old to five, and there was a mere
girl, with beautiful melancholy gazelle-like eyes, and a baby in her
arms. She wore no ornaments, but did not seem to be classed with the
slaves who ran about at the commands of the elder dame.
However, his own position was a matter of much more anxious care,
although he had more hope of discovering what it really was.
He had, however, to be patient. The sunrise orisons were no sooner paid
than there was a continual resort to the tent of the merchant, who was
found sitting there calmly smoking his long pipe, and ready to offer the
like, also a cup of coffee, to all who came to traffic with him. He
seemed to have a miscellaneous stock of coffee, tobacco, pipes,
preparations of sugar, ornaments in gold and silver, jewellery, charms,
pistols, and a host of other articles in stock, and to be ready to
purchase or barter these for the wax, embroidered handkerchiefs, yarn,
and other productions and manufactures of the place. Not a single
purchase could be made on either side without a tremendous haggling,
shouting, and gesticulating, as if the parties were on the verge of
coming to blows; whereas all was in good fellowship, and a pleasing
excitement and diversion where time was of no value to anybody. Arthur
began to despair of ever gaining attention. He was allowed to wander
about as he pleased within the village gates, and Ulysse was apparently
quite happy with the little children, who were beautiful and active,
although kept dirty and ragged as a protection from the evil eye.
Somehow the engrossing occupation of every one, especially of the only
two creatures with whom he could converse, made Arthur more desolate than
ever. He lay down under an ilex, and his heart ached with a sick longing
he had not experienced since he had been with the Nithsdales, for his
mother and his home--the tall narrow-gabled house that had sprung up
close to the grim old peel tower, the smell of the sea, the tinkling of
the burn. He fell asleep in the heat of the day, and it was to him as if
he were once more sitting by the old shepherd on the braeside, hearing
him tell the old tales of Johnnie Armstrong or Willie o' the wudspurs.
Actually a Scottish voice was in his ears, as he looked up and saw the
turbaned head of Yusuf the merchant bending over him, and saying--'Wake
up, my bonny laddie; we can hae our crack in peace while these folks are
taking their noonday sleep. Awed, and where are ye frae, and how do you
ca' yersel'?'
'I am from Berwickshire,' responded the youth, and as the man started--'My
name is Arthur Maxwell Hope of Burnside.'
'Eh! No a son of auld Sir Davie?'
'His youngest son.'
The man clasped his hands, and uttered a strange sound as if in the
extremity of amazement, and there was a curious unconscious change of
tone, as he said--'Sir Davie's son! Ye'll never have heard tell of
Partan Jeannie?' he added.
'A very old fishwife,' said Arthur, 'who used to come her rounds to our
door? Was she of kin to you?'
'My mither, sir. Mony's the time I hae peepit out on the cuddie's back
between the creels at the door of the braw house of Burnside, and mony's
the bannock and cookie the gude lady gied me. My minnie'll no be living
thae noo,' he added, not very tenderly.
'I should fear not,' said Arthur. 'I had not seen or heard of her for
some time before I left home, and that is now three years since. She
looked very old then, and I remember my mother saying she was not fit to
come her rounds.'
'She wasna that auld,' returned the merchant gravely; 'but she had led
sic a life as falls to the lot of nae wife in this country.'
Arthur had almost said, 'Whose fault was that?' but he durst not offend a
possible protector, and softened his words into, 'It is strange to find
you here, and a Mohammedan too.'
'Hoots, Maister Arthur, let that flea stick by the wa'. We maun do at
Rome as Rome does, as ye'll soon find'--and disregarding Arthur's
exclamation--'and the bit bairn, I thocht ye said he was no Scot, when I
was daundering awa' at the French yestreen.'
'No, he is half-Irish, half-French, eldest son of Count Burke, a good
Jacobite, who got into trouble with the Prince of Orange, and is high in
the French service.'
'And what gars your father's son to be _secretaire_, as ye ca'd it, to
Frenchman or Irishman either?'
'Well, it was my own fault. I was foolish enough to run away from school
to join the rising for our own King's--'
'Eh, sirs! And has there been a rising on the Border side against the
English pock puddings? Oh, gin I had kenned it!'
Yusuf's knowledge of English politics had been dim at the best, and he
had apparently left Scotland before even Queen Anne was on the throne.
When he understood Arthur's story, he communicated his own. He had been
engaged in a serious brawl with some English fishers, and in fear of the
consequences had fled from Eyemouth, and after casting about as a common
sailor in various merchant ships, had been captured by a Moorish vessel,
and had found it expedient to purchase his freedom by conversion to
Islam, after which his Scottish shrewdness and thrift had resulted in his
becoming a prosperous itinerant merchant, with his headquarters at Bona.
He expressed himself willing and anxious to do all he could for his young
countryman; but it would be almost impossible to do so unless Arthur
would accept the religion of his captors; and he explained that the two
boys were the absolute property of the tribe, who had discovered and
rescued them when going to the seashore to gather kelp for the glass work
practised by the Moors in their little furnaces.
'Forsake my religion? Never!' cried Arthur indignantly.
'Saftly, saftly,' said Yusuf; 'nae doot ye trow as I did that they are a'
mere pagans and savage heathens, worshipping Baal and Ashtaroth, but I
fand myself quite mista'en. They hae no idols, and girn at the blinded
Papists as muckle as auld Deacon Shortcoats himsel'.'
'I know that,' threw in Arthur.
'Ay, and they are a hantle mair pious and devout than ever a body I hae
seen in Eyemouth, or a' the country side to boot; forbye, my minnie's
auld auntie, that sat graning by the ingle, and ay banned us when we came
ben. The meneester himsel' dinna gae about blessing and praying over
ilka sma' matter like the meenest of us here, and for a' the din they
make at hame about the honorable Sabbath, wha thinks of praying five
times the day? While as for being the waur for liquor, these folks kenna
the very taste of it. Put yon sheyk down on the wharf at Eyemouth, and
what wad he say to the Christian folk there?'
A shock of conviction passed over Arthur, though he tried to lose it in
indignant defence; but Yusuf did not venture to stay any longer with him,
and bidding him think over what had been said, since slavery or Islam
were the only alternatives, returned to the tents of merchandise.
First thoughts with the youth had of course been of horror at the bare
idea of apostacy, and yet as he watched his Moorish hosts, he could not
but own to himself that he never had dreamt that to be among them would
be so like dwelling under the oak of Mamre, in the tents of Abraham. From
what he remembered of Partan Jeannie's reputation as a being only
tolerated and assisted by his mother, on account of her extreme misery
and destitution, he could believe that the ne'er-do-weel son, who must
have forsaken her before he himself was born, might have really been
raised in morality by association with the grave, faithful, and temperate
followers of Mohammed, rather than the scum of the port of Eyemouth.
For himself and the boy, what did slavery mean? He hoped to understand
better from Yusuf, and at any rate to persuade the man to become the
medium of communication with the outside world, beyond that 'dissociable
ocean,' over which his wistful gaze wandered. Then the ransom of the
little Chevalier de Bourke would be certain, and, if there were any
gratitude in the world, his own. But how long would this take, and what
might befall them in the meantime?
Ulysse all this time seemed perfectly happy with the small Moors, who all
romped together without distinction of rank, of master, slave or colour,
for Yusuf's little negro was freely received among them. At night,
however, Ulysse's old home self seemed to revive; he crept back to
Arthur, tired and weary, fretting for mother, sister, and home; and even
after he had fallen asleep, waking again to cry for Julienne. Poor
Arthur, he was a rough nurse, but pity kept him patient, and he was even
glad to see that the child had not forgotten his home.
Meantime, ever since the sunset prayer, there had been smoking of pipes
and drinking of coffee, and earnest discussion between the sheyk and the
merchant, and by and by Yusuf came and sat himself down by Arthur,
smiling a little at the young man's difficulty in disposing of those long
legs upon the ground.
'Ye'll have to learn this and other things, sir,' said he, as he crossed
his own under him, Eastern fashion; but his demeanour was on the whole
that of the fisher to the laird's son, and he evidently thought that he
had a grand proposal to make, for which Master Arthur ought to be
infinitely obliged.
He explained to Arthur that Sheyk Abou Ben Zegri had never had more than
two sons, and that both had been killed the year before in trying to
recover their cattle from the Cabeleyzes, 'a sort of Hieland caterans.'
The girl whom Arthur had noticed was the widow of the elder of the two,
and the child was only a daughter. The sheyk had been much impressed by
Arthur's exploit in swimming or floating round the headland and saving
the child, and regarded his height as something gigantic. Moreover,
Yusuf had asserted that he was son to a great Bey in his own country, and
in consequence Abou Ben Zegri was willing to adopt him as his son,
provided he would embrace the true faith, and marry Ayesha, the widow.
'And,' said Yusuf, 'these women are no that ill for wives, as I ken owre
weel'--and he sighed. 'I had as gude and douce a wee wifie at Bona as
heart culd wish, and twa bonny bairnies; but when I cam' back frae my
rounds, the plague had been there before me. They were a' gone, even
Ali, that had just began to ca' me Ab, Ab, and I hae never had heart to
gang back to the town house. She was a gude wife--nae flying, nae
rampauging. She wad hae died wi' shame to be likened to thae randy wives
at hame. Ye might do waur than tak' such a fair offer, Maister Arthur.'
'You mean it all kindly,' said Arthur, touched; 'but for nothing--no, for
nothing, can a Christian deny his Lord, or yield up his hopes for
hereafter.'
'As for that,' returned Yusuf, 'the meneester and Beacon Shortcoats, and
my auld auntie, and the lave of them, aye ca'ed me a vessel of
destruction. That was the best name they had for puir Tam. So what odds
culd it mak, if I took up with the Prophet, and I was ower lang leggit to
row in a galley? Forbye, here they say that a man who prays and gies
awmous, and keeps frae wine, is sicker to win to Paradise and a' the
houris. I had rather it war my puir Zorah than any strange houri of them
a'; but any way, I hae been a better man sin' I took up wi' them than
ever I was as a cursing, swearing, drunken, fechting sailor lad wha
feared neither God nor devil.'
'That was scarce the fault of the Christian faith,' said Arthur.
'Aweel, the first answer in the Shorter Carritch was a' they ever garred
me learn, and that is what we here say of Allah. I see no muckle to
choose, and I _ken_ ane thing,--it is a hell on earth at ance gin ye gang
not alang wi' them. And that's sicker, as ye'll find to your cost, sir,
gin ye be na the better guided.'
'With hope, infinite hope beyond,' said Arthur, trying to fortify
himself. 'No, I cannot, cannot deny my Lord--my Lord that bought me!'
'We own Issa Ben Mariam for a Prophet,' said Yusuf.
'But He is my only Master, my Redeemer, and God. No, come what may, I
can never renounce Him,' said Arthur with vehemence.
'Wed, awed,' said Yusuf, 'maybe ye'll see in time what's for your gude.
I'll tell the sheyk it would misbecome your father's son to do sic a deed
owre lichtly, and strive to gar him wait while I am in these parts to get
your word, and nae doot it will be wiselike at the last.'