“THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT.”
Miss Arbuthnot’s well-meant solicitude had the effect of making
Cecil very nervous as the evening approached, and at last she actually
entreated to be allowed to stay behind at the School and spend a quiet
hour or two with the governesses, instead of going to Burlington
House. But Miss Arbuthnot would not hear of this, and insisted on
supervising her dressing personally, almost hustling her into the
carriage at last.
“Nonsense, my dear, nonsense!” she said, vigorously, when they were
fairly started. “You really must get rid of this foolish timidity, or
you will be fit for nothing. I should have been seriously displeased
if you had not come. Not only would it have been very rude, for it is
a great favour to get a ticket, but there are several people I want
you to see, a very old friend of mine for one. You have heard me speak
of Elma Wargrave?”
“One of the pioneers?” asked Cecil.
In Miss Arbuthnot’s circle the early workers in the cause of female
education were always designated by this respectful term.
“Yes, I see you know whom I mean. She and I were great friends when we
were girls, and we had almost decided to start school-keeping
together. She was most enthusiastic about it, and used to talk of the
joy of devoting her whole life absolutely to the great work. But,
unfortunately, she went to stay with some relations, and while with
them she fell in with a young Scotch soldier, Sir Dugald Haigh. He was
ridiculously poor, for his father had spent everything he could lay
his hands on, and mortgaged the estates, so that Sir Dugald had
scarcely more than his Artillery pay upon which to support an empty
title and two people. But Elma married him and went out to India at
once, and she has travelled about with him ever since in all sorts of
outlandish places and horrible climates. I believe they have been very
happy, and Sir Dugald is high in the Service, and has lately been made
Consul-General and political agent at Baghdad, so I suppose they are
not pinched any longer now. I don’t grudge them their happiness, my
dear,” added Miss Arbuthnot, slowly, “but I have never been able to
help regretting that Elma should have given up such a work for the
sake of that very ordinary little man.”
“I am quite anxious to see them,” said Cecil. “Is Sir Dugald in
England as well as Lady Haigh?”
“No, she is here alone. Some trouble broke out in the country just as
they were starting, and Sir Dugald would not take his furlough. But
here we are. Now, my dear child, forget yourself, and think of the
people you will see.”
In spite of this excellent advice, Cecil still felt very nervous when
they had laid aside their wraps and she was following Miss Arbuthnot’s
sweeping satin train up the steps and into the crowded and brightly
lighted rooms of the Academy. She did not know that she made a very
pretty picture herself, with her fresh colouring and coils of bright
hair set off by the black velvet dress, with its deep cuffs and
standing collar of old lace, but Miss Arbuthnot perceived this and
rejoiced to know it, not caring at all that her own plain, sensible
face, adorned with the inevitable _pince-nez_, formed an excellent
foil for Cecil’s girlish charms.
At first Cecil wanted to stand aside in some quiet corner, and watch
the throng of noted people moving about, and learn all their names,
but Miss Arbuthnot was a celebrity herself, and was, moreover, a woman
of many acquaintances, who had all some kind or complimentary word for
her young companion, when they recognised her or heard who she was.
Still, it seemed to Cecil that her friend was watching anxiously for
some one who had not yet appeared, and that she was manifestly
relieved when a stout elderly lady, chiefly remarkable for the
possession of a very prominent set of teeth, made her way through the
crowd and joined them, greeting Miss Arbuthnot with effusion, and
turning an expansive smile on Cecil.
“And this must be our young friend the lady graduate,” she said,
looking at her kindly. “You must introduce us, Marian. I should like a
talk with Miss Anstruther.”
“Cecil,” said Miss Arbuthnot, rather nervously, “I want to introduce
you to Lady Haigh. We were speaking about her just now.”
Cecil was nothing loth to make acquaintance with the lady who had
given up so much for the sake of her young Scotch soldier, and whose
defection Miss Arbuthnot still mourned so bitterly, and she acquiesced
at once when Lady Haigh suggested that they should retire to a quiet
palm-shaded seat among the statuary, and have a chat, while Miss
Arbuthnot was taken possession of by a distinguished cleric who had
also been one of the pioneers of the education movement. Lady Haigh
proved to be as kind as she looked, and showed herself very much
interested in Cecil’s career. She asked as many questions as though
she wanted to write her biography, and asked them, too, as if she were
really interested in the answers, and not asking merely for
politeness’ sake. Then she inquired all about the girl’s home
circumstances, and learned all that Cecil would tell her about Mr and
Mrs Anstruther and the rest of the family at St Barnabas’ Vicarage,
and then she changed the subject of the conversation abruptly, and
began to talk about her own doings in Baghdad. It seemed to be a
fairly pleasant life on the whole, and Lady Haigh showed herself by no
means desirous of underrating its attractions.
“You see, my dear, although it is dreadfully decayed since the days of
the Khalifs and the ‘Arabian Nights,’ yet it is a very interesting
place still. The society is really not bad, for there are nearly
always travellers or officers of some sort passing through, and they
all come to the Residency. Then the assistant political agent comes up
sometimes from Basra, and of course there are clerks and secretaries,
but they are mostly Armenians or East Indians. There is generally a
gunboat in the river, too, and when it is lying off the Residency we
are really quite gay. Then there are the officials at the other
consulates, but socially speaking, and between you and me, they are
rather a dull set. But there are a few of the Jews and Armenians in
the place who are travelled and cultivated people, and quite friends
of ours. Then, of course, it is very interesting when you get to know
some of the Turkish ladies, and it is curious to study the mixture of
nationalities in such a place as Baghdad. I often say that it reminds
me of nothing so much as of Nuremberg or one of those German cities of
the Middle Ages, at the time of their annual fairs.”
“I should love to see it,” said Cecil, drawing a long breath, “but I
shall never be able to afford an Eastern trip until I am quite old.
When the boys are all off my hands, I mean to save up, so that I can
travel about wherever I like when I am an ancient spinster. It would
scarcely do for me to go out now and set up a girls’ High School under
the shadow of the Residency, would it?”
“Scarcely,” laughed Lady Haigh; “and I am afraid, too, you would
hardly get pupils enough to make it pay, except possibly among the
Greeks and Armenians. The Turkish ladies are kept very closely
secluded, and although the Pasha is very anxious to do what he can to
introduce European customs, yet he is not even backed up by his own
harem.”
“It must feel like being in the ‘Arabian Nights’ to live in Baghdad,”
said Cecil.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out something about it from one of the
natives?” asked Lady Haigh, indicating a tall, olive-complexioned
gentleman a short distance off, clad in irreproachable evening-dress
and a fez cap. “That is Denarien Bey, an Armenian gentleman whose
family has lived in Baghdad for many generations. He is in England at
present on some business for the Pasha, and would be delighted to tell
you anything you wanted to know.”
She beckoned with her fan, and Denarien Bey came forward with much
alacrity. He bowed very politely when he was introduced, but Cecil
fancied that she saw a start of dismay when he caught her name. She
assured herself afterwards, however, that it must have been only
fancy, for he was most attentive, answered all her questions about
Baghdad, and escorted her to the buffet and catered for her as
punctiliously as any Englishman. At last he took her back to Miss
Arbuthnot, and the strange, delightful evening was over. Cecil passed
the sleeping hours of that night in a wild whirl, in which visions of
Baghdad in the golden prime of good Haroun-al-Raschid were peopled
with the gorgeous throngs she had seen at Burlington House, and the
President’s bow and hand-shake had some occult connection with the
black eyes and hooked nose of Denarien Bey, and with the diamonds and
Indian embroidery of the “Mother of Teeth,” as her Armenian friend had
informed her that Lady Haigh was called in Baghdad. Towards morning
she had a less extravagant dream, relating to the foundation of the
High School she had laughingly proposed, and including the appearance
of his Excellency Ahmed Khémi, Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, in full
uniform and blazing with orders, to give away the prizes at the end of
the first term. From this delightful vision Cecil was roused by a
visit from Miss Arbuthnot, who came to her room to see whether she had
overslept herself, and again displayed considerable interest in
ascertaining what dress she intended to wear.
Breakfast over, and Miss Arbuthnot’s modest victoria at the door to
convey Cecil to meet her fate, the principal grew nervous again. Cecil
was far more collected than she was, and got together her testimonials
and certificates with a calmness which was extremely creditable. At
last they were ready to start, and, after what seemed a miraculously
short drive, arrived at Daridge’s Hotel. Cecil’s courage was beginning
to fail her now, and she felt her limbs trembling as she followed Miss
Arbuthnot into the hall, and thence up the wide staircase, preceded by
a peculiarly gorgeous domestic in livery. Presently this individual
opened a door on one side of a lofty corridor, and ushered them into
a room filled with gentlemen. Cecil caught Miss Arbuthnot’s arm.
“This can’t be the right room. He’s taking us into a committee meeting
by mistake,” she whispered.
“No, my dear, it is all right,” said Miss Arbuthnot, and marched on
undauntedly, Cecil following, and experiencing something of the
feeling which must have actuated Childe Roland when he came to the
Dark Tower.
The gentlemen rose as they entered, and one of them, in whom Cecil
recognised her last night’s acquaintance, Denarien Bey, came to shake
hands; while, to complete her mystification, she caught sight of Lady
Haigh smiling and nodding at her from the other side of a long table.
Denarien Bey placed chairs for the new arrivals--a proceeding which
reminded Cecil forcibly of the words sometimes met with in the reports
of trials, “the prisoner at the bar was accommodated with a
seat,”--and then returned to his place, so that Cecil had time to look
about her.
There were some eight or nine gentlemen present, the chief of whom
seemed to be a grey-haired man at the end of the table. His face was
in some way familiar to Cecil, but it was not at first that she
remembered that she had seen him in close attendance on the Turkish
Ambassador on his way to some State function. Next to him, on either
side, sat Lady Haigh and Denarien Bey, and then came several
vivacious, dark-eyed gentlemen in fezzes, who talked among themselves
with a great deal of gesticulation, and seemed to bear a kind of
national likeness to the Armenian envoy. Somewhat apart from the rest
sat a stout elderly Englishman, with a stolid and unconvinced
expression, and a general air of being present to keep other people
from being imposed upon. There was also a secretary--a slim,
dark-skinned youth in spectacles, who scribbled notes in a large
clasped book, when he was not nibbling his pen and staring at Cecil;
and lastly, at the very end of the table, Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot
themselves. Cecil was in a hopeless state of amazement and
mystification, feeling, moreover, a terrible inclination to giggle on
finding herself the cynosure of all the eyes in the room. What could
it all mean? Was it possible that Ahmed Khémi Pasha, who was said to
be fond of European innovations, was going to found a High School in
Baghdad? and was she to take charge of it? But no; Miss Arbuthnot had
said that the situation was to be in a private family. What could be
going to happen?
There was a little low-toned conversation between the two gentlemen at
the head of the table, and then Denarien Bey spoke.
“We have heard, mademoiselle, that you are willing to accept a
situation as governess out of England--a course seldom adopted by
young ladies of your high attainments. This suggested to her
ladyship,” he bowed to Lady Haigh, “and myself the idea that you might
be found the proper person to undertake a charge of a very delicate
and important nature. Before saying more, I must impress upon you that
all that passes here is in strict confidence, whether the result of
this interview is satisfactory or the reverse.”
Cecil bowed, and he went on--
“I think I shall scarcely be committing an indiscretion if I mention
in the present company that his Excellency Ahmed Khémi Pasha, whom I
have the honour to represent here, intends to make his third son, Azim
Shams-ed-Din Bey, his heir. A cause may be found for this in the
unsatisfactory character of his Excellency’s eldest son; and there are
also other family reasons which render it imperative. His Excellency
has always felt a profound admiration for the English people, and this
has of late so much increased that he is anxious to secure an English
governess for the Bey, who is now about ten years old. As I was about
to visit England, his Excellency thought fit to confide to me the duty
of finding a lady with suitable qualifications who would be willing to
accept the post, and I, feeling the charge too heavy for me, even with
the kind and experienced help of her ladyship, have taken the
precaution of associating with myself my good friend Tussûn Bey,”
here he bowed to the old gentleman at the head of the table, “and
these other kind friends.”
There was another interlude of bowing, and Denarien Bey continued--
“The special qualifications which his Excellency desired me to seek in
the lady who is to have the charge of his son are these: she must be
capable of carrying on and completing the Bey’s education in all but
strictly military subjects; she must be young and--and--well, not
disagreeable-looking, that the Bey may feel inclined to learn from
her; she must be discreet and not given to making mischief; and she
must have been trained in the best methods of teaching. May I trouble
you, mademoiselle, to bring your testimonials to this end of the
table?”
Somewhat surprised, Cecil rose and carried her bundle of papers to
him, while the other gentlemen all turned round on their chairs to
look at her, apparently to ascertain whether she fulfilled the second
condition satisfactorily.
“I think, gentlemen,” said Tussûn Bey in French, “that if
Mademoiselle Antaza”--he made a bold attempt at the unmanageable
name--“finds herself able to accept the situation, his Excellency will
be much gratified by her appearance. She is thoroughly English.”
“_Vraiment anglaise!_” ran down the table, as all the gentlemen gazed
critically at the tall slight figure in the severely simple tweed
dress and cloth jacket, with the small close hat and short veil
crowning the smooth hair. Cecil returned blushing to her place, while
Denarien Bey explained to his assessors the purport of the various
testimonials; and the secretary, finding Miss Arbuthnot’s eye upon
him, made copious notes. After a time the papers were all returned to
Denarien Bey, the gentlemen making remarks upon them in two or three
strange-sounding dialects; and after receiving a paper from the
secretary, the Pasha’s representative proceeded to explain the terms
which were offered.
The salary proposed was a large one, but the Pasha was anxious that
his son’s course of study should be uninterrupted, and it was
therefore his endeavour to secure for it an unbroken period of five
years by the following plan. Cecil was to sign an agreement, if her
services were engaged, to serve for two years, and on the expiration
of this term she could, if she was willing, at once sign another bond
to remain three years more, after which she was to be entitled to a
large extra bonus in consideration of her labours in conducting Azim
Bey’s education to a successful close. If Cecil broke the agreement,
she was to forfeit the salary for all but the time she had actually
served; but if it was broken by the Pasha for any cause excepting her
misconduct, the balance was to be paid to her. By the end of the five
years Azim Bey would be fifteen, and old enough to be emancipated from
female control, and Cecil might return to her own country after an
uninterrupted absence of five years.
Cecil’s heart sank as she listened. When she heard the amount of the
salary offered, she had eagerly calculated what she could do for the
boys with it, and the mention of the bonus raised high hopes in her
heart, until she realised the conditions under which alone it was to
be gained. Actually to expatriate herself for five whole years! Never
to see England, or her father, or cheerful little Mrs Anstruther, or
any of those dear dreadful children for five years! It was too
appalling. She was on the point of rising and refusing the situation
point-blank, but she found that Denarien Bey was speaking again.
“You will take until the day after to-morrow to consider this,
mademoiselle. I will peruse carefully your testimonials, if you will
be good enough to leave them with me; and if they prove satisfactory,
as I have no doubt will be the case, and you decide to accept the
terms offered by his Excellency, Lady Haigh’s return to Baghdad to
rejoin her husband will afford an excellent opportunity for your
journey thither. This proposal comes from her ladyship herself, and I
do not doubt that you will rejoice to avail yourself of it. I would
remind you that there is no obligation upon you, when you have served
for two years, to sign the further bond for three years more, although
his Excellency is anxious to secure this, and offers such a handsome
present with the view of obtaining it. I thank you for your presence
here to-day, mademoiselle, and will not trouble you any further.”
The whole assembly rose and bowed as Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot passed
out, Lady Haigh following them closely.
“Come to my sitting-room,” she said; “you are going to lunch with me,
you know. Denarien Bey will be coming in as soon as he has got rid of
his friends, and then we can pick his brains to some purpose.”