On a carpet spread in the shade which fringed some open ground beside
the sakieh, Elias and the Frank reclined at ease. Within hand's reach
of them was placed a heap of oranges and sweet lemons, representing
every variety which the garden produced; and between them reposed a
tray on which were seen the remains of a choice repast. A creeper with
a wealth of crimson flowers, wreathing a rough arbour built to shade
the sakieh, contrasted the dark foliage of the fruit-trees. The sky
was pure blue and cloudless. There was a hum of insects in the air.
The man Muhammad, keeper of the garden, sat on his heels at a
respectful distance from the feasters, watching for a signal to remove
the tray. All at once this man sprang up, his mouth fell open. With a
great oath he fled among the trees. Whereupon the brother of Azîz and
his company threw off concealment, and came forward boldly with loud
talk and laughter. Elias gazed upon them, stupefied. Before he could
get on his feet, they closed around him. Iskender heard the priest cry:
"Woe to him who withholds from the Church her dues!"
Mîtri, with the brother of Azîz, then paid respect to the Emîr,
engaging his attention while Elias was being led away. Guided by the
outcry of the prisoner, Iskender followed his captors on a parallel
line among the orange-trees. He heard the howls of derision with which
the women hailed the appearance of the boaster, and their demand that
he should be well beaten to reward his impudence. Iskender drew close
to them and peeped out through the leaves.
"Beat me? Nay, that you dare not!" cried Elias. "The lives of all of
you would not suffice my vengeance. Wait, wait till I get hold of my
good sword!"
"Thy sword, if thou hast one, is of wood, O braggart!" laughed one of
his captors, at the same time giving him a shove which sent him reeling
up against another of the band, who straight returned him.
"Nay, nay," he protested, in his passage through the air. "By Allah, I
possess one, of the finest steel. Ask Mîtri, ask Iskender; they have
seen it!"
Then, as they continued their rough game with him, he screamed out:
"Are you Christian men or devils thus to maltreat me on account of a
few oranges for which I paid the guardian?"
"Nay, O beloved! Allah witness, it is not the oranges we begrudge
thee, but the honour thou didst take unto thyself feloniously."
"Aha, thou art the owner of this place, and we thy servants!"
"Oranges! Let him have his fill of them!"
A woman snatched an orange from the nearest tree, and flung it full in
his face. He opened his mouth to remonstrate, but another orange
stopped it on the instant. With a fearful oath he gave up the
argument, and ran for his life, amid a roar of laughter.
Then Iskender came out upon the pathway, and walked along it till he
reached the sakieh. As prearranged with Mîtri, he feigned great
surprise at sight of the Emîr, exclaiming:
"I thought you said the garden of Elias. This is the garden of Azîz
abu Suleymân."
"Something queer has happened," said his patron, showing great
uneasiness. "These people have been trying to explain to me, but I
can't understand them."
Iskender looked to the priest for elucidation. After a short
conference apart with him, he was in a position to inform his lord,
who, learning the deception put on him, was very angry. His Honour was
for leaving the place at once; but Mîtri and the brother of Azîz would
not let him depart as if in dudgeon.
The little crowd of men, women, and children, having finished with
Elias, now drew near, and sat or lay in a half circle at a respectful
distance from the group upon the carpet. The brother of Azîz flung
oranges to them; and both he and Mîtri asked for tidings of the
boaster, which Iskender was called upon to translate for the Frank's
behoof. The downfall of Elias seemed complete. But the victor could
not take much joy in it, for the face of his Emîr still showed nothing
but annoyance.
If only Mîtri and the rest would now retire, he thought impatiently, he
might throw himself at the feet of his dear lord. As it was, he was
forced to make his petition lamely, calmly, shorn of all that outward
self-abasement which the case demanded. It was something, however, to
be sure of privacy, to know himself alone with his Emîr in knowledge of
the English tongue.
"Oh, sir," he faltered, "forgif me, do, or I shall die of grief. You
'f neffer been the same to me since goin' to the Mission. I luf you,
sir, enough to gif my life. I thought you would hate me if you knew my
mother was a washin'-woman! It break my heart ef'ry time you gif me
money; I luf to gif you things, not take things from you. If the
missionaries tell you contrary, they're dam' liars. Elias thinks of
money; but not me, because I luf you truly. I'll be a slafe to you.
Do blease belief me!"
His lord was deeply moved. He said, "That's all right," and gave his
hand to Iskender, who all at once beheld the beauty of the trees and
sky, the wealth of crimson flowers above the sakieh. But when the
suppliant pressed it to his lips, the Frank seemed angry, cried, "Don't
be idiotic!" and glanced round him nervously.
"I luf you, sir!" pursued Iskender passionately. "By God, I neffer
tell you lies again. You trust me, sir, and just be kind to me. It
kills me when you luf that false Elias."
"Oh, that's all right," was the impatient answer. "I shall trust you
for the future. Can't you talk of something else?"
Then it dawned upon Iskender that his Honour did not like this talk of
love. At a loss, he changed his tone, but not the subject, giving his
patron the true history of his difference with the missionaries, which
arose from his boyish passion for the Sitt Hilda.
"Is that the young one? Not a bad-looking girl, if she dressed
properly!" threw in the Emîr; and again Iskender was at a loss, for he
could not conceive how dress could do otherwise than hide a woman's
beauty. He returned to his own case.
"I luf you, sir, and neffer, neffer will deceif you more."
"Oh, shut up, can't you?" said the Frank disgustedly; but presently,
when they had taken leave of Mîtri and the brother of Azîz, he grasped
Iskender's arm in friendly wise. As they strolled together down a
sandy path among the gardens, whose dark rich green encroached upon a
sky of living blue, the scent of orange-flowers pervading the still
air, and the murmur of innumerable bees enforcing languor, Iskender
walked in heaven.
"You trust me now, dear sir?"
"Yes, yes, I trust you. I shall never forgive Elias for that dirty
trick."
"It is only just what I did always tell you. He is an imbudent fellow,
and a most horrible liar," returned Iskender lightly, grudging Elias
even his lord's anger.
A pause ensued. Iskender had no more to say, yet dreaded silence,
recalling his uncle's advice to him to keep the Frank amused--advice
which he had so lately seen confirmed in the case of Elias, the amusing
talker. He knew that his patron's mind, unless engaged, was sure to
revert to the adventure of the orange-garden, and recall his rival, of
whom he wished to obliterate the very thought.
Then, of a sudden, while he racked his brain, he was seized with
recollection of his vision of the night before. It returned to him
from without, by no effort of his own; and was first announced to his
consciousness by the sensation of a sudden flush from head to foot.
Here was a subject able to engross the Emîr's whole interest, to the
exclusion of Elias from his thoughts for ever.
"Sir," he said, "I wish to sbeak to you."