The son of Yâcûb longed to be alone and weep his fill, but could not
leave Elias in possession. It was as a dumb and piteous plea against
the usurpation of Elias, and not from any hope of reinstatement, that
he attended the Emîr that afternoon, when the dragoman led them among
the stinking alleys of the town, under archways and through private
houses, pointing out sites of interest which Iskender felt sure were of
his own invention; and he very soon wished that he had kept away. For
Elias, according to his promise, "brought him forward," begging the
Emîr to have compassion on him, because he was a good boy and devoted
to his Honour's service. Iskender could only mutter, shamefaced, when
the Frank addressed him.
"Why did you deceive me? I thought you were well off, or I should
never have accepted all those presents. Now you must please accept a
trifle from me."
Iskender found in his hand a piece of gold, and saw Elias nodding and
grimacing. He murmured words of thanks perfunctorily, the while he
gnashed his teeth with secret rage. Such kindness was an outrage to
his love, being given at the bidding, in the presence, of the rogue
Elias. The cup of his humiliation overflowed.
"Now all is well," Elias told him afterwards. "Be thankful that thou
hast a friend like me. He smiled on thee; he gave thee money. Thou
art back in favour."
Iskender was obliged to thank him kindly. What his soul needed was to
be alone with his Emîr, to throw himself at his feet, and win his true
forgiveness. The casual kind word with a fee was worse than nothing in
the realm of love. But Elias, as if of fixed intent to thwart him,
stood always in the way, annihilating the unhappy youth with
condescension, bidding him cheer up and amuse his Honour. Iskender
heard his rattle with a stupid admiration which the Emîr's applauding
laughter made quite envious. He himself had fallen to the level of a
mere serving-lad, to run his Honour's errands and be tipped
occasionally.
His mother judged that things were thriving with him, since he brought
home money; and he did not undeceive her, wishing to keep his grievous
fall a secret as long as possible; though soon, he feared, it must be
evident to all the world. Already Yuhanna and the other dragomans
jeered at him in the streets, acclaiming the triumph of Elias, their
own comrade. He thought of invoking the aid of his uncle Abdullah, but
that respectable man was for the moment absent on Cook's business.
There seemed no hope of success by his own efforts, for in the presence
of the Emîr he could not now think clearly, nor find a word to please.
Distress of longing set a cloud upon his brow, a weight upon his
tongue, which was not lightened when Elias chaffed him for a dull
companion.
It was only when alone that he regained his normal wit; and then his
soul leapt up in envy of the brilliant dragoman. Elias was clever; he
had seen the world; his position as a dragoman would bear inspection.
No wonder that the Frank preferred him to the son of a poor
washerwoman, whose lowliness Elias himself was always emphasising.
Thus attacked, and without defence, since there was no denying that his
origin was humble, Iskender's pride took refuge in its old imaginings.
Walking to the hotel, he would picture himself a king's son in
disguise, or else the owner of enormous treasure; would smile, and
clench his hands, and step exultantly; would think:
"If the Emîr but knew me as I really am!" But, approaching the Emîr,
such fancies vanished. They were of no use because no one would
believe them. It took Elias to give truth to wondrous stories by
judiciously eschewing points that could be verified. Iskender, in
great anguish, prayed to Allah to destroy Elias, or at least to teach
His servant a true story, that he might outshine the miscreant.
Dazzled by the triumph of that splendid liar, he thought of
story-telling as the only way to the Emîr's good graces; and lay awake
whole nights constructing fables which the first faint light of dawn
showed to be worthless.
An appeal to the good nature of his rival failed irrevocably. When
Iskender entreated to be left alone with his Emîr, were it but for five
minutes, Elias stiffened, crying:
"Curse thy father! What means this plaintive whisper in my ear? Thy
Emîr! He was thine by his own will, and has tired of thee. Now he is
my Emîr. It is natural he should prefer the society of a grown man who
has dwelt in England, and acquired the manner of its nobles, to that of
a loutish, sullen boy, untravelled, ignorant! Behold, I have stood thy
friend. But for me, he would have cast thee off entirely. . . . Leave
thee alone with him? No, by Allah, that I will not--and have thee
telling wicked lies against me."
Iskender turned away in great unhappiness, deeming his last hope gone.
That night he lay awake and thought of wealth as the only power that
could confound his enemies. At last he fell asleep and dreamt of
gold--nothing but gold; small rounded pebbles of it clothed the ground
for miles. It was more, ten thousand times, than all the wealth of all
the kingdoms put together. The sky above was black as pitch, though
something told him that the hour was noon; the gold put out the sun.
"All mine!" he thought, and was preparing to gather it, but some one
stopped him with an iron hand; and then he woke, to hear his mother's
snores and see the flicker of the night-light on the rafters.
His first sensations were of disappointment as though great wealth had
really lain within his grasp. But presently as he pondered on the
vision, his heart leapt up with exultation at the thought that here was
the nucleus of a story, marvellous as any that Elias had related, and
true, for who save Allah had surveyed the whole wide world, and could
deny the existence somewhere of a plain all gold. Moreover, it would
be a story after the Emîr's own heart, concerning, as it would, the
search for treasure.
"If I say that I myself beheld the place, it will be false," thought
Iskender to himself, "because I am young and every one knows that I
have never travelled. But suppose I say my father saw it, then it will
be true, for my father is dead and he travelled far in his day, and
Allah alone knows what he saw or did not see."
The rest of that night was spent upon the story, considering in what
manner it should be revealed, with what precautions and what vows of
secrecy. As it shaped itself in his mind it seemed a fortune hardly
less than that he had beheld in sleep. He rose at daybreak,
thought-worn but light of heart. As it happened, that morning, his
mother sent him to the Mission with a message concerning some mistake
she had discovered in the tale of the last week's washing. He had to
wait the pleasure of the ladies, to carry a message from them to his
mother, and bring back her answer; so that it was past the usual hour
when he reached the hotel. He met the Emîr and Elias going out
together.
"His Excellency has graciously consented to honour with his presence an
orange-garden which belongs to me," said the dragoman to Iskender in
Arabic. "The weather is fine, like summer; the fruit ripens. It will
be pleasant reclining in the shade."
The whole world swam before Iskender's eyes around the handsome figure
of Elias, whose scarlet dust-cloak seemed a flame of fire. What was a
plain of gold in the truest of stories to compare with an orange-garden
actually existent close at hand? He had prepared to vanquish Elias in
one sphere, and the coward leapt into another where he could not reach
him. Never till now had he heard that Elias owned a garden. This was
the end. Iskender resigned a contest so unequal. He heard the Emîr
invite him to go with them, but shook his head, quite unable to
articulate a reply. The despair of his mother, the hateful triumph of
the missionaries, the derisive laughter of the dragomans, came before
his mind. Some one, passing by, gave a chuckle. He sprang to
self-consciousness with the impression that the whole world laughed.
The doorway of the hotel was near. He fled through it, pretending that
he had come to claim the sketching things he was wont to leave in
charge of the doorkeeper. With those in his hands he hurried forth
again, glad to escape the negro's friendly grin.