About the third hour of a cloudless day Elias Abdul Messîh crossed the
sandhills from the northward, traversed the gardens, and approached the
town. He was riding a showy horse, which he caused to prance whenever
any one was looking; and had assumed the panoply of the fashionable
dragoman. His slim but manly figure well became a tight and
many-buttoned vest of murrey velvet, a zouave jacket of blue silky
cloth, and baggy trousers of the same material, whose superfluous
lengths were tucked away in riding-boots of undressed leather. A
scarlet dust-cloak streamed from off his shoulders. The tassel of his
fez, worn far back on the head and dinted knowingly fluttered on the
breeze; the tassels on his bridle led a dance.
In his wake followed two fat, middle-aged men, set one behind the other
on a donkey's back, of whom the hindmost held a rope which led four
mules laden with all the requisites of Frankish travel.
Elias flourished in his hand the silver-mounted whip of rhinoceros-hide
which he had long ago reclaimed from the Emîr. The pride of a leader
of men informed his bearing as he brought his train at last through the
crowded market, shouting loftily to clear a way.
Arrived at the khan where he was accustomed to hire beasts of burden,
he was preparing to dismount, when a man ran out and, stooping, kissed
his stirrup. It was the muleteer who had been first retained by
Iskender.
"May Allah keep thee, O my dear!" exclaimed Elias, cheered by such
worship in a public place. "What news in the town to-day?"
The muleteer raised hands and eyes to heaven.
"Grave news, O my lord Elias. They sent me about my business, and are
gone without thee."
"Merciful Allah!" cried Elias, stupefied. "Gone, sayest thou? They
are gone, the miscreants? . . . But it is impossible. Gone, sayest
thou? When and how did they go?"
In vain did he strive to discredit the muleteer's story, throwing doubt
on every point as it arose; it was only to remove all ground for doubt
concerning it.
"Merciful Allah!" he exclaimed again, in tones of horror. "May their
fathers be destroyed, their mothers ravished. Wait till I catch thee,
O thou pig Iskender! The good Emîr will perish of discomfort; for that
treacherous boy is ignorant of all things that pertain to travel. Y'
Allah! Let us make all speed to overtake those wretched ones!"
But his companions, Aflatûn the cook and Fâris the waiter, were in no
such hurry. They were hungry from much riding on an empty stomach, and
flatly refused to proceed another step until replenished. Cursing
their greed, Elias was forced to resign himself. He indulged in
eating, as he told himself, to pass the time; but afterwards, when it
came to coffee and narghîlehs, he squandered more than an hour in
boasting with what speed he would catch up the fugitives, how suddenly
and effectually he would repay the beast Iskender. It was Aflatûn the
cook who reminded him at length that time wore on. Once on horseback,
his eagerness again became active, and, in a measure, practical. He
knew the direction Iskender had proposed to take, and, stopping before
the hotel for a minute, he learnt from the sons of Mûsa the name of the
first halting-place.
Amused by his indignation at the start without him, those old friends
mocked him, crying:
"They have fled from thee. Sooner than endure thy converse any longer,
they have thrown themselves on the mercy of Allah. They would rather
face wild beasts and savage warriors than have thy sweet voice always
at their ears."
Cursing the ancestry of such heartless jokers, Elias rowelled his
horse's flanks with the sharp corners of his stirrups, and went off at
a furious gallop. Through the orange-gardens, out on to the plain, he
sped like the wind, until his steed gave signs of fainting and he had
to stop. Looking back along the way he had come, he could not see his
companions and their string of mules, though the ground was open and
the air quite clear. Evidently they had not yet left the gardens.
With horrid malediction of their religion and parentage he rode on at a
foot's pace.
At the third hour after noon he reached the spot where Iskender and the
Frank had passed the night, and stood staring at the ashes of their
fire with teeth and hands tightly clenched. A fellâh from the
neighbouring village told him they had set out very early that morning
with the avowed intention of making a long day's march.
These tidings sent Elias raging mad. They were fleeing towards the
valley full of gold, of which Iskender, alone of all men, knew the
whereabouts; and he, Elias, their predestined chief, was left behind!
His fiery spirit craved to mount at once and gallop day and night till
he rejoined those treasure-seekers; but the frailty of his horse
precluded any such transports, and the snail-like pace of his adherents
bound him down. At present he was obliged to wait for Aflatûn and
Fâris and the baggage animals, while conscious of the fugitives
receding rapidly, sucked in irresistibly to a whirlpool of living
light, his mind's image of the object of desire.
Having procured some barley and chopped straw for his horse, he left
the beast in charge of some of the villagers, and climbed alone to the
summit of a rock hard by, which commanded the plain. His retinue
appeared, a great way off, mere dots upon a certain cornfield. The sun
was high when he first descried them; it had touched the sea before
they came in hail.
"Make haste, accursed sluggards! Yallah! Onward! They fly before us!
We must march all night," he cried in anguish.
But they said:
"Wait a little! All the beasts are tired. We will not march through
the night. In truth we are minded to have done with this mad business,
which is the same as hunting the shadow of a flying bird. Allah alone
knows whether we shall catch those people; but we ourselves are able to
perceive that we are tired and hungry."
"May Allah shorten your days!" roared Elias furiously. "Would you fail
me now and betray me, O treacherous dogs?"
They still refused to travel through the night; and when he persisted
in requiring it of them, took umbrage, and vowed that they would leave
him then and there. For hours he remonstrated with them, but they only
ate and drank and smoked, then slept, unheeding. He lay down by their
side, but could not sleep.
At the first breath of dawn they were still snoring, when Elias rose,
prepared his horse, and rode away. After all he felt well rid of such
unsoulful hogs. He could travel much more quickly by himself; and the
fewer reached the Valley of the Kings the better, for some are thieves,
and gold corrupts true men. So he rode on, pushing his mount to the
utmost, in and out among the stony hills, inquiring at every village
and of all he met in the way for tidings of the Frank and his
companion. In the heat of the day he paused for an hour, to bait and
water his horse, which, nevertheless, was quite worn out ere sunset.
Elias was forced to dismount and lead him slowly.
The mountain slopes were hung with vineyards, fields and gardens.
Sauntering groups appeared upon the path, which now began to assume the
aspect of a proper road. Rounding a shoulder of the terraced hill,
Elias had a view of the chief town of the region, clothing half the
mountainside, beneath its famous mosque. He determined to enter the
place and make inquiries, though the Muslim mob, he knew, was fierce
and dangerous.
Going straight to the house of a Christian of his own Church, he asked
for hospitality, which was granted to him in Allah's name. Having
cared for the horse, he went indoors and told his errand, seeking
tidings of the chase; and presently his host went out to make
inquiries. He returned to declare, upon authority of an officer of the
watch, that no party resembling that described had entered the town.
Now Iskender had named this city many times as lying in the direct road
to the seat of treasure. His avoidance of it, therefore, must have
been of purpose to elude Elias--his best, his truest friend! The
outraged dragoman called God to witness. It was evident that Iskender
meant to be the only one to find the golden valley. Having used his
money as the means to get there, he would doubtless make away with the
Emîr. Elias wept at picture of the cruel fate which awaited that
unsuspecting nobleman. However, he himself was not yet beaten. He
still had hopes that, by minute inquiry, he might come upon their
tracks and overtake them.
But when the morrow came his horse was useless. Having money, he went
out to hire another. But while he was about the business, soldiers
came to him and asked to be shown the permission by which he travelled.
He produced a document, but it was out of date. They told him so. In
some alarm, he swore by Allah he was in the service of an English
prince as mighty as the Sultan. They straightway asked to see the
prince in question; and Elias had to own that he was not forthcoming.
Then they laughed him to scorn--the dragoman without a tourist. One
took a fancy to the knife that decked his waist-band. Another admired
his whip, and promptly took it. His pistol too was gone. In vain he
looked for help or sympathy; the crowd of fierce-eyed, turbaned Muslims
only jeered at his despair. At a threat to put him in prison, he flung
them all the money he possessed, then cast himself upon the ground with
face buried in his arms. Seeing he was finished, his tormentors left
him thus; and the crowd, when they were gone, advised him friendly,
bidding him look to Allah for redress.
Scared in his very soul, Elias rose at last and crept back to the house
of his co-religionist. There he sat and moaned through all that day,
refusing food and every other comfort. Disarmed and penniless, he
could proceed no further in that lawless region. It was all Iskender's
fault--the cunning devil! The valley of the gold seemed now his legal
birthright, of which he had been defrauded by a wicked malefactor, who,
not content with that, was leading out the good Emîr to kill him in the
desert. Iskender had bribed Aflatûn and Fâris; Iskender had lamed his
horse; Iskender had set on the soldiers to despoil him. By the time he
started on his homeward way, the world was poisoned by Iskender's
wickedness; he could not look at rock, or myrtle-bush, or wayside
flower without groans and gnashing of teeth; and wherever he reposed at
noon, or spent the night, he told his wrongs. The story ran before him
through the countryside. When he came at last to his own door, it was
to find a crowd awaiting him, anxious to know the truth of strange
reports. Several of the dragomans were there, including Abdullah,
uncle of Iskender, who questioned Elias in no peaceful tone.
Awed by the sternness of so respectable a man, Elias dissembled his
rage, and spoke in sorrow:
"Alas! it is too true. Allah knows, it grieves my soul to relate it.
Iskender, whom I loved as my own eyes, has led the good Emîr into the
wilderness, meaning to rob him there and take his life."
"It is a lie!" cried Abdullah furiously. "Take back those words this
instant, or thy blood shall pay for it. Allah knows thou wast ever the
chief of liars."
"That is true," agreed the bystanders.
"That is true, perhaps," Elias owned; "yet in this case I speak the
truth. Those two had learnt the hiding-place of a great treasure, and
Iskender means to have the whole of it. I had secret warning of his
wicked purpose, and went to bring good honest men to defeat it. But
he, suspecting what I was about, persuaded the Emîr to start without
me. Moreover, he dismissed the muleteer whom I had chosen, engaging in
his stead a murderous ruffian. My soul died within me when I heard of
their departure. Allah witness how I strove to overtake them. But the
rogue had set every one upon the road against me. I was delayed at
every turn, flouted and finally robbed of my weapons and all my money."
He exhibited his empty belt. "So I returned, despairing. May God have
mercy on that kind Emîr, and let his soul find peace."
These words, and still more the heart-broken manner of their utterance,
made a profound impression upon all who heard them. They were received
as true by every one there except Abdullah, who talked of hiring
ruffians to assassinate the wicked slanderer. He swore at once to
clear his nephew's honour. But his excitement was regarded with mere
pity, as natural to a man afflicted in so near a relative.