"May Allah keep thee! Here is a nice to-do!" His mother, who had
spied Iskender from afar, stood in a gap of the cactus hedge with arms
akimbo. "Was ever woman blessed with such a son? The Father of Ice
was here before the rain, he and the Sitt Jane with him. They spoke
against thee ceaselessly for two hours, till my poor back ached with
standing there and bowing, and my head swam round with listening to
their tiresome iterations. Had I not heard it all before a thousand
times--thy idleness, thy kissing the Sitt Hilda, thy choice of low
companions in the town? And then thy friends--Elias, what a wretch!
Once, years ago, when conducting a party of travellers, he pushed his
horse among the ladies, who were on their donkeys. Unheard-of
insolence! He shouted--actually shouted at English ladies--to make
way; of course, they paid no heed to such impertinence, and then he
rode among them. Ma sh' Allah! And Mîtri too! To hear them talk of
Mîtri, any one would suppose the poor, good priest some dreadful ghoul.
. . . All that was empty talk, however spiteful, and Allah knows I am
well seasoned to it. But when they came to speak of thy Emîr, and
swore to turn his mind against thee, I saw danger. What ailed thy wits
that thou must needs tell Costantîn a tale of thy going to the land of
the English to study the art of painting at thy lord's expense? They
have it that thou wouldst defraud the good young man. . . . Ah! Allah
knows I have my fill of troubles."
She paused from sheer exhaustion, pressing a hand to her heart.
Iskender laughed at her concern, assuring her that his favour with the
Emîr was now established past all fear of assault. Exultant from his
recent triumphs, and flushed from a walk through air which the rain had
left pure and invigorating, he did in truth believe himself beyond the
grasp of adversity. His mother's woe seemed senseless. When he told
of the wicked plot of the dragomans, and how signally it had failed
through Allah's mercy, it angered him to see her wag her head with
boding looks. She could not realise the victory his words implied.
"Think, O my mother!" he cried out impatiently. "These three days have
I been his guest and chosen comrade, sitting with him at all
hours--aye, even in the seat of honour in the guest-room, in my
slippers--admitted to the secret of his every thought. It is well seen
that he loves me truly. Give praise to Allah, therefore, and throw
grief aside."
But his mother still looked rueful as she shuffled about the room
getting food--a bowl of curds, some olives, and a slab of bread--to set
before him.
"All that is well enough," she grumbled audibly, "but to what end? By
Allah, I perceive no profit in it. Thy need is money, not mere
compliments. Better get him to appoint thee monthly wages as his
servant."
"Merciful Allah! is my mother mad?" exclaimed Iskender, teeth on edge
with irritation. The woman's lack of understanding rasped his soul.
"He loves me as a friend, an equal, not a slave. And what are the
paltry wages of a servant as compared with the friendship of a mighty
prince? In the end he is certain to provide for me honourably; he will
make me a great painter, as I said to Costantîn."
"In sh' Allah, it may prove so," replied his mother; "but I doubt it
greatly. Thou wast ever one to follow distant dreams, neglecting the
good that lay within hand's reach. Were Elias or Yuhanna in thy place,
no doubt at all but they would make some money. There is a chance when
making purchases or hiring horses for his Honour. But thou art capable
of scorning every gain--nay, even of bestowing all thy goods!--for the
sake of a fine friendship which may leave thee naked."
"By Allah, I will hear no more of this!" Iskender started to his feet,
past patience. "Know that my love for my Emîr equals his love for me.
He is my soul; how then should I defraud him? I shall buy for him as
for myself; he shall admire my honesty--it is the virtue most esteemed
among the Franks--and be assured that in the end he will reward it."
His mother sighed profoundly, and spread out her hands.
"Thou art young, O my son, nor hast thou my experience. It is true
that the Franks hate guile or any cleverness; but I never heard of one
of them rewarding honesty. For them it is a thing of course,
unnoticed. I warrant thou wilt get no credit for it. Moreover, Allah
knows thou needest money; for, if the missionary's wrath goes on
increasing, I cannot keep thee here. I must either turn thee out or
lose a good appointment which enables me to lay by something every year
for thy future fortune. They grow to hate thee so that soon they will
refuse to send their dirty garments to be washed where thou dost dwell.
. . . Wouldst leave me now already, when I have not seen thee for
three days? May thy house be destroyed! Stop, in the name of Allah;
stop, I say! Was ever mother cursed with such a son?"
But by then Iskender had passed through the cactus hedge, and was
running down into the sandy hollow. The clear, cool air at once
restored his exultation, and his mother's words became a buzz of flies
which he had left behind. The sky was dreamy blue; the sandhills rose
against it shapely like the backs and flanks of couchant lions. The
red roof of the Mission on its ridge seemed placed there by some
childish whim--a thing incongruous. As Iskender fixed his gaze on it,
he saw a figure coming thence with speed--a figure in dark Frankish
clothes beneath the red tarbûsh, which he recognised as that of Asad
son of Costantîn. A minute later he was called by name, and saw the
same shape running fast towards him.
"O my soul!" cried Asad, panting, as he drew near. "What are these
tidings that we hear of thee? Why wilt thou show thyself to
disadvantage?" Pausing to gather breath, he caught Iskender's hand and
pressed it to his heart. "What is this talk of thy friendship with the
priest Mîtri? Wouldst thou for ever forfeit the goodwill of those
above?" He jerked his head towards the Mission, hidden from where they
stood by the brow of the sandhill. "Only think! To whom in all the
land can we look for support and encouragement unless to these people
who have brought us up? The Orthodox have neither wealth nor
influence. Wert thou to join them, I fail to see how it could profit
thee. In this land there is no hope for a Christian unless by foreign
protection. And of all the races of foreigners the English are the
richest and the most powerful. By Allah, thou wast a fool ever to
anger them; thou shouldst have hid thy thoughts and bowed to their will
in all things, even as I do. Thou seest they will make of me a priest,
a grand khawâjah. They would have done the same for thee hadst thou
behaved with common prudence. If not a priest, thou mayest still
become a well-paid schoolmaster by their protection. Thou wouldst do
well, therefore, to forsake this Mîtri, who has nothing to offer. Be
advised, I entreat thee!"
Asad was a tall, lean youth, lantern-jawed, and of a serious
countenance, in age a few months younger than Iskender. His complexion
was swarthier than the common, and his eyes, like the eyes of his
father Costantîn, were furtive, with a cast of malice. The boys had
always been on friendly terms, in spite of standing jealousy between
their parents. But to-day the patronage in Asad's speech incensed
Iskender. What need had he, the Emîr's right-hand, of compassion and
advice from any whipper-snapper? He replied with sarcasm:
"May Allah repay thy kindness, O my dear! Had I known thy mind had
such anxiety on my account I should certainly have sent a messenger to
reassure thee. Believe me, all thy fears for my welfare are quite
groundless, for never had I such good cause to praise the Lord as at
this present. Behold me in the road to wealth and honour, possessing
the favour of an English nobleman, for whom these missionaries are mere
specks of dirt. My kind lord vows that I have talent as a maker of
likenesses, and wishes me to receive the best instruction in that art.
For a beginning, he has sent express to the land of the English for
better instruments and materials than I could here obtain. Indeed,
there is no cause to fear for me. The praise to Allah!"
"Praise to Allah!" echoed Asad sneeringly, stung to reprisals by
Iskender's tone. "But concerning that Emîr of thine I have a word to
say. They have heard up there how thou hast fastened on him like a
leech, and dost boast to all men that his wealth is thine. I myself
heard the Father of Ice declare that thy designs were iniquitous and
must be thwarted. He himself will go to the Emîr and tell him thy
whole history, which is nothing good; so thou hadst best beware. By
Allah, thou dost wrong to take this tone with me, who came as a friend
to warn thee!"
"I thank thee," rejoined Iskender loftily. "But have no fear, I say
again, for my Emîr esteems and loves me far too well to give ear to
lying tales made up by mischief-makers. Moreover, he abhors the
missionaries with such utter loathing that I think he would defile the
beard of the Father of Ice did the poor wretch dare approach him. Thou
supposest the missionaries to be all-powerful, as I did once. But,
believe me, they are nothing thought of in their own land. My Emîr
would hardly deign to notice things so low. Now I must leave thee, O
my dear, for my lord awaits me."
He began the ascent of the sandhill.
"Well, remember I have warned thee!" shouted Asad after him.
Relieved of the irritant of the lank youth's voice and presence,
Iskender felt dismay at his own boastfulness, and repented of it humbly
before Allah. He knew that a jealous eye is fixed upon the heart of
every man to mark when pride leaps up and straightway blight it. To
show elation was to court calamity. However, he repeated divers
formulas reputed potent to avert the evil; and when, from a high point
of the dunes, he saw the minarets and the square roofs of the town
standing forth clear and white with the blue sea for background, beyond
the gardens freshened by the rain, he clean forgot misgivings.