With the return of reason a new spirit came to Barakah. At the moment
of her seizure she had been exasperated with her Eastern life. She
awoke to rapture in it, to impatience of the European nurse and
doctor. The smell of them, as they leaned over her, was an offence;
their voices jarred so that often she would hide her head beneath the
bed-clothes to shut out the sound.
On the other hand, she listened eagerly to noises out of doors--the
creak of the shadûf which tipped up water on the garden, the
camel-bells, the chant of passing funerals; she watched the sunlight
stud with gems the inky lacework of her lattice, and eagerly inhaled
the breeze which entered; and Yûsuf’s daily visits were her joy. In
the forest of distorted memories through which her soul had wandered
friendless like a ragged child, the Europeans she encountered had
reviled her; the love of Yûsuf and his people had been all her hope.
In the hunger which distressed her convalescence, the growing
disaffection for a diet all of milk, her fancy pictured feasts of
Eastern dishes, English cookery appearing loathsome in the memory.
Strangest of all, she could now think in Arabic, of which, before her
illness, she had scarce a sentence.
As soon as she had licence to see visitors, the Pasha’s harîm came
in force to greet her. The lady Fitnah fell upon her in a transport
of affection, and she responded with entire abandonment, thankful to
have at last the love of Yûsuf’s mother. The elderly princess, Amînah
Khânum, and other ladies of importance, paid her visits and, as her
health improved, carried her off to their own houses--not for an hour,
but for whole days together. There, in the perfumed shade, she was
enthroned with cushions, fanned and sprinkled, nourished delicately,
and sung to sleep when she showed signs of weariness. The sense of
frailty and of worth was exquisite. She was content to be the guarded
pet, and let them plan; regarding them as beings of a higher race,
with whom it would be vanity to try to cope. Their freedom from the
sentimental mists of Europe helped this feeling, and so did their bold
vision of existence, blinking nothing. The potential cruelty which
lurked beneath their gentleness subdued her; the way they talked of
death habitually made her feel a timid child.
Thus, with the body pampered and the mind enslaved, she studied and
observed their life, completely fascinated. The world of women was,
she found, a great republic, with liberties extending to the meanest
slave, and something of the strength which comes of solidarity. Unless
in jealous fury, no woman would inform against another, bond or free;
nor fail to help her in the hour of need. They had their shibboleths,
their customs, rites, and ceremonies, even their courts of justice,
independent of the world of men. Each lady owning slaves controlled
them absolutely. Her husband never saw their faces, hardly knew them.
The law against his making love among them, except by her command, was
very drastic. The child of such a union would have been her slave. If
he required a concubine, he had to buy, not steal one. So sacred with
the Muslims was the married woman’s right to property--a right which
was not recognized at all in England Occasionally Barakah heard talk of
cruelties which chilled her blood; but her friends excused them on the
ground of anger, which was for them a visitation from on high. The very
victims, they assured her, never felt as she did.
One feature of the harîm life which shocked her was the equalling of
black with white. The Muslim faith disowning all race prejudice, a
strain of negro blood appeared in the best families; and any negro
having fortune was esteemed as marriageable as the fairest Turk. Then
the black slaves, though less regarded because they cost less than the
white Circassians, possessed great influence, particularly in the
article of superstition, which they quite controlled. Weeds from the
heathen Soudan, brought to Cairo in the convoy of the slave-dealer,
luxuriated in that tank of guarded ignorance; and many an enlightened
Muslim would have died of horror had he known the works of darkness
countenanced by his harîm--the sacrifices to malignant beings; the
veneration paid to hoary negresses for demoniacal possession; the use
to which the name of God was sometimes put. To Barakah, however, in
those early days, such fancies--what she heard of them--seemed merely
comic. She ranked them with the women’s playfulness, their funny
stories. She was enamoured of their life as she conceived it, enslaved
and thrilled by its unblushing candour. This was the season of her real
conversion, which reached its climax on a certain morning, when she was
carried in a guarded litter to the citadel to witness the departure
of the yearly pilgrimage. From a place reserved for ladies on the
ramparts she beheld the troops, the guilds of dervishes, defile before
the Khedive’s tent, and then the great procession wind away. Fanfares
sounded, cannons roared, and from the multitude which hid the square
and covered every roof and balcony in sight, beading with heads the
very summits of the citadel, a sigh went up.
Barakah was in an ecstasy. When her eyes wearied of the flash and
movement, she surveyed the vast blue sky, the coloured, sunlit walls,
the minarets where doves were circling. She pictured the long journey
of the pilgrims, on the shining sea, across the burning sands, to the
eternal sanctuary. What scene in Christian Europe could be matched with
this? Religion, but a mummy there, here lived and moved.
Returning home, she felt a craving to unbosom, and bethought her of
a girl in England, once her friend. She called for ink and pens,
and wrote forthwith to Julia Long, recounting her changed fortunes,
and extolling Egypt. She described the scene she had that morning
witnessed, and concluded:
“Julia darling, you will think it strange, but I am sure that
this religion is the true one. Here every woman has a chance to
marry, and the accidents of wealth and birth are not the barriers
they are at home. Polygamy is not at all what people think. The
Moslems are as strict as Puritans about morality; and the women
here are happier than those at home. Europe has gone all wrong,
and so has Christianity. Here we believe in Jesus just as you
do: we know that His religion is the true one; but St. Paul
and others after him corrupted it. Do think of this, and learn
about Mahometanism. I would give anything that you might find
the happiness that I have found. My husband will be taking me to
Paris at the end of June. Do try and join us there. We will pay
all expenses.
“With true affection from your old friend
{ Madame Yousouf Bey Mohamed,
“MARY { c/o Mohamed Pasha Sâlih,
{ Cairo, Egypt.”
This letter was read out to Yûsuf in the evening. He applauded it,
and vowed she had a natural gift of eloquence. He asked for a minute
description of her friend, seeming much pleased to think that they
would meet in Paris; and when Barakah had satisfied him to the best of
her remembrance, chuckled:
“And you love her? Then you would not object to have her for your
durrah!”
She warned him archly that she could be jealous.
Barakah called often on the lady Fitnah, who just now was in high
feather, having been commissioned by Murjânah Khânum to find out
a husband for the latter’s slave, Gulbeyzah. At once she sent out
go-betweens in all directions, threads of a gigantic web, in which she
sat and waited. Flies soon came--ladies with eligible sons or husbands
needing matrimony--whose claims the shrewd Egyptian sifted, smelling
out the slightest fraud. Barakah was interested in these doings,
naturally, seeing they concerned the welfare of her closest friend.
Murjânah Khânum wished to emancipate a charming slave and place her in
a good position, at the same time seeking some remuneration for her
previous outlay. She appointed Fitnah Khânum her intendant. Those were
the naked facts. But the word “price” was never mentioned in discussion
of the subject; it was always “dowry,” of which a third part would be
paid, of course, to the bride’s people. Gulbeyzah was referred to as a
cherished daughter of the house; her wishes were consulted with regard
to each proposal; and no one was annoyed when she seemed hard to please.
“Thou art like Leylah Khânum,” whispered Barakah. “Thou wilt choose and
choose away till none are left.”
“By no means,” was the laughing answer. “I am a young maid. Moreover,
it is not the man I stickle for; it is society.”
Whenever ladies whom she did not choose came to inspect her, Gulbeyzah
donned a rustic air and talked to shock them. Barakah had no idea of
what she meant when saying she required society, until one day she told
her:
“Praise to Allah! Only think, beloved! Three Circassians, young like
me, from the same district! Their lord--a Pasha of the richest--wants
another like them. They are gratified. I have been recommended. They
come to-day for my inspection. Thou shalt see them presently, as also
a Gulbeyzah no one ever saw before. O day of milk! O wave-crest of all
days!”
Barakah had been summoned by the ladies and a carriage sent for her.
Gulbeyzah had waylaid her on the way to the reception-room.
“But what of the man--the husband?” she inquired.
“Splendid! Rich and generous; impartial as the prophet in division of
his favours. If God wills, I shall bear him children. What more could
girl require? Think--four of us, like sisters! Four pearls strung
together, and inseparable! Thou wilt visit us, and we shall all four
love thee dearly. O joy! Now go! I will rejoin thee presently.”
The clack of tongues was heard from the reception-room. Before the
door stood rows of coloured slippers. All the dependants of the
household, all the go-betweens, had rallied to support the ladies on a
great occasion. Hardly had Barakah concluded greetings ere the three
Circassians were announced. They were all charming, and all bore, she
fancied, some resemblance to Gulbeyzah in their childlike faces and
huge eyes. They had pretty, deferential manners, seeming to speak by
pre-arrangement and to think in concert, obedient to some rule which
bound them, just like nuns. They were still amid the storm of formal
compliments when Gulbeyzah entered clad in soft apparel, and paused as
if in awe at finding strangers. Then, blushingly, she went and kissed
their hands, going on to kiss the hands of all the ladies present. In
so doing she gave Barakah a little bite, and when her tour was ended
sank down humbly at her feet.
“They will unmask thee. Thou canst never keep this up for life,” the
Englishwoman whispered.
“By Allah! only look!” was the reply. “They too are acting. See now,
the plump one: there is inward mirth.”
The visitors, impressed by her demeanour, put certain questions, which
she answered to the point. It appeared that she could dance and sing;
spoke Turkish, Arabic, and some Armenian. At mention of French also,
they raised hands and eyes, declaring her a perfect prodigy. They then
addressed her in their native dialect, when sudden smiles broke up
their shy decorum. Turning to the hostesses, they asked forgiveness for
employing private speech. They had but asked the dear one of her native
village, and smiled to hear that it adjoined their own. They begged for
leave to call again, which meant the bargain was acceptable; and then
withdrew with every blessing on the house.
No sooner had they vanished than Gulbeyzah threw off her demureness
and performed with energy a naughty dance which terminated in a sudden
swoop to clasp Murjânah Khânum’s feet. Her mistress bent and kissed her
forehead tenderly; the lady Fitnah was convulsed with glee; the humbler
women gave forth wedding-cries. And the cause of all this joy, the
object of that motherly consideration, was a slave! In Europe, people
thought of slaves as miserable. Here was a story to be told to Julia
Long.
“O disappointment! Thou wilt be in Paris! Thou wilt miss my wedding!”
cried Gulbeyzah suddenly. “Yûsuf Bey should take some low girl with him
since he needs must go. It is sinful to expose thy worth to risks of
travel.”
“Have I not told him?” cried the lady Fitnah. “The world will be quite
black when she is gone. A girl for whom his father paid three thousand
pounds. It is absurd to fling her into boats and filthy trains.”
Barakah smiled at their desire to keep her, thinking with rapture of
the coming talks with Julia. She had not then had Julia’s answer to her
letter. It arrived within a fortnight of the time of starting.
“ ... How can you write such wickedness?... I heard that you had
married a Turk, but thought of course he was converted.... I do
not envy you your riches nor your rank at such a price!... No, I
will not join you in Paris, and abet you in your infamy. I banish
your most impious suggestions from my thoughts for ever.... I am
poor and shall remain so; but I have incalculable treasure....”
She crumpled up the closely written sheets, then flung them on the
ground and stamped upon them. Yûsuf found her weeping uncontrollably,
and asked the cause.
“Then their women are fanatical like ours!” he sighed when told. “Take
heart, O fountain of my life! By Allah, such a friend is not worth
weeping. We will none the less enjoy ourselves in Paris.”
“I have no wish to go at all,” sobbed Barakah.