I must betray dear Sheykh Yussuf's confidence, and tell you his love
story.
A young fellow ran away with a girl he loved a short time ago, she having
told him that her parents wanted to marry her to another, and that she
would go to such a spot for water, and he must come on a horse, beat her
and carry her off (the beating saves the maiden's blushes). Well, the
lad did it, and carried her to Salamieh where they were married, and then
they went to Sheykh Yussuf to get him to conciliate the family, which he
did. He told me the affair, and I saw he sympathized much with the
runaways. 'Ah,' he said 'Lady, it is love, and that is terrible, I can
tell thee love is dreadful indeed to bear.' Then he hesitated and
blushed, and went on, 'I felt it once, Lady, it was the will of God that
I should love her who is now my wife. Thirteen years ago I loved her and
wished to marry her, but my father, and her grandfather my uncle the
Shereef, had quarrelled, and they took her and married her to another
man. I never told anyone of it, but my liver was burning and my heart
ready to burst for three years; but when I met her I fixed my eyes on the
ground for fear she should see my love, and I said to myself, Oh Yussuf,
God has afflicted thee, praise be unto Him, do thou remember thy blood
(Shereef) and let thy conduct be that of the Beni Azra who when they are
thus afflicted die rather than sin, for they have the strongest passion
of love and the greatest honour. And I did not die but went to Cairo to
the Gama el-Azhar and studied, and afterwards I married twice, as thou
knowest, but I never loved any but that one, and when my last wife died
the husband of this one had just divorced her to take a younger and
prettier one and my father desired me then to take her, but I was half
afraid not knowing whether she would love me; but, Praise be to God I
consented, and behold, poor thing, she also had loved me in like manner.'
I thought when I went to see her that she was unusually radiant with
new-married happiness, and she talked of 'el-Sheykh' with singular pride
and delight, and embraced me and called me 'mother' most affectionately.
Is it not a pretty piece of regular Arab romance like Ghamem?
My boat has gone up to-day with two very nice Englishmen in her. Their
young Maltese dragoman, aged twenty-four, told me his father often talked
of 'the Commissioners' and all they had done, and how things were changed
in the island for the better. (1) Everything spiritual and temporal has
been done for the boat's safety in the Cataract--urgent letters to the
Maohn el Baudar, and him of Assouan to see to the men, and plenty of
prayers and vows to Abu-l-Hajjaj on behalf of the 'property of the Lady,'
or _kurzweg_ 'our boat' as she is commonly called in Luxor.
Here we have the other side of the misery of the Candian business; in
Europe, of course, the obvious thing is the sufferings of the Cretans,
but really I am more sorry for the poor fellah lads who are dragged away
to fight in a quarrel they had no hand in raising, and with which they
have no sympathy. The _Times_ suggests that the Sultan should relinquish
the island, and that has been said in many an Egyptian hut long before.
The Sultan is worn out, and the Muslims here know it, and say it would be
the best day for the Arabs if he were driven out; that after all a Turk
never was the true _Ameer el-Moomeneen_ (Commander of the Faithful).
Only in Europe people talk and write as if it were all Muslim _versus_
Christian, and the Christians were all oppressed, and the Muslims all
oppressors. I wish they could see the domineering of the Greeks and
Maltese as Christians. The Englishman domineers as a free man and a
Briton, which is different, and that is the reason why the Arabs wish for
English rule, and would dread that of Eastern Christians. Well they may;
for if ever the Greeks do reign in Stamboul the sufferings of the Muslims
will satisfy the most eager fanatic that ever cursed Mahound. I know
nothing of Turkey, but I have seen and heard enough to know that there
are plenty of other divisions besides that of Christian and Muslim. Here
in Egypt it is clear enough: it is Arab _versus_ Turk and the Copt siding
with the stronger for his interest, while he rather sympathizes with his
brother fellah. At all events the Copt don't want other Christians to
get power; he would far rather have a Muslim than a heretic ruler, above
all the hated Greek. The Englishman he looks on as a variety of
Muslim--a man who washes, has no pictures in his church, who has married
bishops, and above all, who does not fast from all that has life for half
the year, and this heresy is so extreme as not to give offence, unless he
tries to convert.
The Pasha's sons have just been up the river: they ordered a reading of
the Koran at the tomb of Abu-l-Hajjaj and gave every Alim sixpence. We
have not left off chaffing (as Maurice would say) Sheykh Allah-ud-deen,
the Muezzin, and sundry others on this superb backsheesh, and one old
Fikee never knows whether to laugh, to cry, or to scold, when I ask to
see the shawl and tarboosh he has bought with the presents of Pashas.
Yussuf and the Kadee too had been called on to contribute baskets of
bread to the steamer so that their sixpences were particularly absurd.
The little boy whose father died is still with the Abab'deh, who will not
let him travel to Cairo till the weather is warmer and they find a safe
person to be kind to him. Rachmeh says 'Please God, he will go with the
Sitt, perhaps.' Hassan has consoled him with sugar-cane and indulgence,
and if I lose Mabrook, and the little boy takes to me, he may fall into
my hands as Achmet has done. I hear he is a good boy but a perfect
savage; that however, I find makes no difference--in fact, I think they
learn faster than those who have ways of their own. So I see Terence was
a nigger! I would tell Rachmeh so if I could make him understand who
Terence was, and that he, Rachmeh, stood in need of any encouragement,
but the worthy fellow never imagines that his skin is in any way inferior
to mine.