The love Iskender bore to his Emîr transfigured every detail of
familiar life. The walk to the hotel each morning was a joy through
expectation, the return each evening a delight through memory. The
vestibule in which he waited his lord's pleasure, with its marble
pavement and its painted walls, a few cane chairs and tables, and a
great clock ticking steadily, became the entrance-hall of paradise. Of
nights the thought of sitting there next morning caused his pulse to
quicken. The sons of Mûsa and the negro doorkeeper shared in the
radiance of his loved one's neighbourhood. It was easier for his mind
to pasture on accessories than to conjure up the Emîr's own presence,
which left the memory blind as with excess of light. At times he would
recall with a thrill the lofty brow with short fair hair reposing on
its summit as lightly as tamarisks upon the crest of a dune, the
laughing sea-blue eyes with golden lashes, or it might be the smooth
curves of mouth and chin. But the face as a whole escaped him, though
he never tired of studying it, and was always trying to produce its
likeness; now with pencil upon paper, now with finger in the sand. No
artist in the world could hope to show the beauty of that face as he
beheld it, the glow its smile diffused through all his being. Even his
mother's shrieks to him to get money from the Emîr enhanced his
rapture, making his own pure love shine forth more brightly.
A week's fine weather followed on the rain. The Emîr rode out on
horseback every day, with Iskender at his right hand, and Elias, who
was a showy rider, circling round them. Iskender had told Elias
plainly:
"The Emîr is mine. I found him; and shall keep him all my own."
"It is known he is thine," the elder had made answer with all
deference. "Allah forbid that I should seem to rival thee! But his
Honour has been merciful to me, and my soul is bound to him and thee in
gratitude. Moreover, nowadays I have much spare time, which I can
scarcely hope to spend more profitably than in the society and
conversation of so exalted and refined a nobleman. He is thine and
shall remain so. Only drive me not away!"
Iskender acceded to this petition the more readily that his Emîr, he
could see, regarded the most exquisite of dragomans simply as a
standing joke. They laughed together at his superstition and his
boastfulness. But their butt was really serviceable in small ways,
knowing where to hire good horses at the lowest price, and pointing out
in the course of their rides objects of interest of the very existence
of which Iskender had been ignorant.
Never had the son of Yâcûb known such happiness as he tasted in those
rides across the plain which basked in sunshine, with violet mountains
before them and a gleam of the sea behind. Here they traversed a
mud-village plumed with palms, its narrow ways alive with dogs, and
fowls, and children, where Iskender shouted, "Way for the Emîr!" till
men and women bowed their heads and praised him; there an olive-grove
profuse of dappled shade, where they were content to let their horses
walk at ease. In their saddle-bags was much good food from the hotel,
which they devoured at noon in some secluded spot; when Elias would
discourse to them of strange vicissitudes, of beggars suddenly uplifted
to the height of honour, and the Emîr, reclining lazily, would smile
and wink privately at Iskender, who, at every such mark of preferment,
longed to kiss his feet. No marvel yet related by Elias could compare
with his own good fortune in Iskender's eyes.
One evening, on their return to the hotel, when two stable-boys were
leading off the tired horses, and Iskender, with Elias, stood waiting
to take leave of his kind lord, the negro brought a little card to the
Emîr, who eyed it strangely.
"It is that missionary-man you hate so," he informed Iskender. "What
in the name of Moses made him call on me?"
"Ha, ha! 'Name of Moses!'" laughed Elias, who was daily adding to his
store of English idioms. "By gum, that's good!"
Iskender inwardly thanked Allah Most High for his mercy in directing
the Father of Ice to call while the Emîr was out. He thought no more
of it. They rode again the next day and the next; his happiness went
on, unshadowed, till a certain morning when the Frank announced, with a
yawn, that he supposed he must return the visit of the missionary.
This he gave as a reason for not riding on that day. He would write
off arrears of letters in the morning, and in the afternoon would walk
out to the Mission.
Iskender's jaw fell. It had never occurred to him as even remotely
possible that his Emîr would stoop to enter the abode of people he had
always mentioned with such fine contempt. The picture of his loved one
seated in the well-known drawing-room, an object of attention to the
ladies, hobnobbing with the Father of Ice--his Emîr, whom he had come
to regard as the very counterblast of that house and all it stood
for--gave him a sense of being upside down. The Frank laughed at his
dismay, inquiring:
"Why so surprised? I must return the poor man's call in mere
politeness."
"They hate me very much there," said Iskender miserably. "I fear they
tell you things not true about me."
"I know the truth from you, don't I? Let them say what they like!"
Iskender went forth from his presence, pondering this reassurance,
which contained no comfort for him, since he had given his lord to
understand that he had received his education at the Mission as an
independent paying pupil, and had quite concealed the fact that his
mother was a washerwoman. The Emîr, if he thought at all of the
matter, supposed him a youth of substance. How could he think
otherwise, when he heard Iskender offer to defray the cost of horses,
and saw him daily bring some present in his hand? Now he would learn
the truth.
Elias was standing in the doorway talking to Daûd son of Mûsa when his
friend came out. He noticed his glum looks, and asked the cause.
"My Emîr is going to visit that accursed missionary, who hates me and
will work my ruin if he can."
"Why then remain a Brûtestânt among such enemies? Return to the
Orthodox Church, and thou shalt find friends enough."
The mighty Daûd deigned for once a glance at Iskender. The house of
Mûsa were fanatics in religion.
Elias took Iskender's hand and went out with him.
"The news is bad for me, too," he said ruefully, "for they hate me
also--curse their religion!"
"What matter for thee? He is not thy Emîr. For me, it is the risk of
life itself."
Iskender broke away from him at the first chance, and walked back to
his home upon the sandhills. His mother screamed surprise at sight of
him.
"My Emîr is busy," he explained, assuming cheerfulness as a good shield
from questions, which might easily have probed too far into his cause
for grief. For the same reason he forbore all mention of the purposed
visit of his Emîr to the Mission. "I am free to-day, and so returned
to see if I could help thee in the house."
Receiving his offer of help in sober earnest, she sent him presently
upon an errand to the house of Costantîn; but on the way there, with
the Mission full in sight, its red tiles glaring fiercely in the
noon-day sun, it occurred to him that his Emîr would surely fall in
love with the Sitt Hilda. Rent by the twofold anguish of the thought,
he wandered aimless for an hour, and then returned, to gape at mention
of an errand. His mother hurled a saucepan at his head.
"May thy house be destroyed!" she screamed. "Nay, go not now. It is
too late! Within this minute I have seen Costantîn take the road to
the town. O Lord, what have I done to be thus afflicted?"
Iskender then sat down before the threshold, and fell to drawing
pictures in the sand, smoking cigarette after cigarette without
contentment, till he knew by the shadow of the prickly-pears that the
afternoon was well advanced; when he changed his position for one
commanding the approach to the Mission, lit a fresh cigarette and began
his watch.
"Thou dost smoke enough for twenty men!" his mother scolded. "Thou art
always asking me for cash to buy the stuff, even now when thou hast thy
Emîr! Take from him, he will be none the wiser. Thou hast no more
intelligence than a sheep."
Iskender heard her not. He had caught sight of the figure of a Frank
moving briskly along the ridge of the opposite dune. It seemed but a
second ere it passed into the Mission, and was lost to sight. Iskender
fell face downwards, making some idle play with the sand for his
mother's benefit, the while his heart went out in prayer to Allah. It
seemed an age ere the Emîr came forth. From where he lay Iskender
could not distinguish so much as the colour of his clothes, yet he
fancied he could see his heart was sad or angry. Having watched him
out of sight, he sprang up suddenly and strode off towards the Mission
in the hope of news. As luck would have it he met Asad son of
Costantîn.
"I was on my way to tell thee." That youth of promise grinned from ear
to ear at the sudden encounter. He had to apply his mind for a minute
to a stick of sugar-cane he was sucking before he could compose a
countenance suitable to the bearer of ill tidings. "The Father of
Ice--curse his father!--has done what I told thee he would do, has
ruined thee with thy Emîr. He made thee out the lowest of the low, and
told his Honour of thy boast that thou wouldst use his money as thy
own, even to the extent of making him pay for thy education as a
painter in the English schools. He told him it was wrong for him to
ride on horseback beside one like thee--for whom to ride an ass were
signal honour. Ah, I assure thee by Allah he has done it thoroughly.
I have the story from the maid who carried tea to them. She listened
by the door at my request, because I knew how nearly it concerned thee."
By way of consolation Asad offered to his friend a length of sugar-cane
he had himself sucked three parts dry. It was accepted blindly.
Iskender knew not what he did or said. He wandered by the sea till it
was dark, and then went home and passed a sleepless night in dreams of
wealth, by which alone it seemed his love could be cleansed from all
appearance of self-interest. Before his mother awoke in the morning he
slipped out, and walked into the town, where he loitered down by the
quay, kicking his heels, until it was time to present himself at the
hotel and learn his fate.
"The khawâjah has announced his will to ride alone to-day, and for an
hour only," said Selîm the son of Mûsa, who stood sunning himself in
the doorway.
The words struck like bullets on Iskender's heart, they so cruelly
confirmed the tale of Asad son of Costantîn.
Elias arrived, and asked him how he did. Iskender made known his
tidings in a voice half-choked by grief.
"Was any word said against me?" asked the dragoman eagerly.
Iskender shook his head.
"The praise to Allah! Take heart, O my soul! If I am still in favour,
I can plead for thee."
"Thou in his favour! Thou art nought to him!" replied Iskender with a
sudden burst of spite.
Elias was about to answer angrily when the subject of their speech
appeared. Both sprang to their feet expectantly. But the Emîr, with a
blunt "Good-morning," passed them by and mounted the horse which stood
in waiting before the door. They watched him ride away, then turned
and gazed into each other's eyes. Both agreed that there was nothing
for it but to sit down again and await further revelations of the will
of Allah.
When the Emîr returned, after less than an hour's absence, his temper
had improved, for he laughed at a joke of Elias, and suffered them both
to accompany him to his room. Elias pushed home his advantage, telling
a succession of funny stories in exaggerated broken English. The Emîr
laughed heartily, and talked with him. Iskender, abashed by the
uncertainty of finding favour, dared not risk a word; and his loved one
never even looked at him.
"You come with me, sir, this afternoon. I show you sefral things you
neffer seen!" said Elias, when the bell had rung for lunch.
The Emîr consented.
"You see, he hears me!" cried the dragoman with exultation, when he and
Iskender were once more alone together. "Confide in me, and I will
lead him back towards thee!"
The touch of patronage entombed Iskender. His Emîr, to be led to him
by Elias! But "Weep not, O my soul!" the latter begged him. "Come
with us this afternoon and I will bring thee forward."