The bridal was attended with festivities. The little Christian village
re-echoed with the ululation of the crowd of women forming the bride's
procession, as they paraded their joy among the hovels before going to
the church. And when, after the ceremony, the train came forth, carrying
Nesîbeh to a house not her father's, the zaghârît broke out afresh, and
guns and pistols were discharged. Much feasting of a solid kind ensued
at the bridegroom's expense, in a house which had been ceded to him for
the purpose. Elias was there in gorgeous raiment, telling all who would
give ear a strange romance of how he had once been all but married to a
royal princess. Khalîl, the concertina-player, was a thought aggrieved
that Mîtri forbade him to make music in the church itself, but forgot his
dudgeon when the crowd trooped out again. For hours he played on
indefatigably, repeating his whole repertory of Frankish discords at
least a score of times, and telling all who asked that he had acquired
his skill in foreign music by instruction from the greatest living master
of the art--a certain English mariner named William.
Of Iskender's family not one was present. His mother dared not
adventure, for fear of the missionaries; and his uncle Abdullah lay at
that time ill in his house as the result of a wound received in a drunken
brawl.
It was not until two days later, when Iskender was beginning to overcome
the shyness of his young bride, that his mother came to bless him.
"Ah, thou hast won for thyself a pearl of price, my son, a gem desired of
many!" she whispered in his ear, when she had embraced Nesîbeh. "Be
careful of her goings, guard her closely; for it has reached my ears that
she is ripe for naughtiness. May Allah, of his mercy, bless the pair of
you, and grant you honoured increase."
Congratulation, however, was only part of her purpose in the visit, as
soon appeared.
"My son," she cried excitedly, "the great lady, the mother of George, has
come hither from the land of the English, for a few weeks only, having
left the children. She had ever a fondness for thee, and has asked to
see thee, as I hear from the servants at the Mission. Even when informed
of all thy misdoings by the Father of Ice, her husband, she smiled in his
face, they tell me, and still protested she would like to see thee. So I
threw this shawl over my head, and came to fetch thee to the house. The
mother of George loves thee, as I said before; and her husband denies her
nothing, both because she comes of a good house, while he is the son of
low people, and for the sake of the many children she has borne him. By
the Gospel, I perceive a chance for thee to retrieve the past, if only
thou wilt deign to be a little politic and respect their foibles. For
Asad son of Costantîn is in the land of the English, and the report of
his doings displeases the Father of Ice. It is said that he shows a
tendency towards the High Church in that country, which for the time is
uppermost, and has found some favour with its dignitaries; which means he
is accursed in the eyes of our friends here. . . . What art thou doing?
Come, make haste, I say!"
Iskender, on his knees upon the floor, was looking through a little pile
of paintings, his own work.
"I would take in my hand a gift for the mother of George," he explained;
"a specimen of my art, that she may see what proficiency I have attained
in it. It was she who first encouraged me to draw and paint--she and,
after her, the Sitt Hilda. I should like them both to see the beauty of
my present paintings."
"Now Allah forbid!" exclaimed his mother in alarm. "Verily thou art mad
to think of it. They view with horror all religious pictures, regarding
them as idols, in their ignorance, like the Muslimin! Here is a chance
to recover all their favour, to supplant Asad, to become a priest of
their religion, a rich khawâjah; and lo! thou wouldst spoil it all by
showing them a holy image! When thou askest aught of the Devil, make not
the sign of the Cross. Be wise, my son; and come at once!"
But Nesîbeh, who had till now stood speechless by, here flung herself
between them, threatening to tear the eyes out of the mother of Iskender.
She swore that she would never let her husband visit the home of unbelief
in the company of one so wicked. If he went at all, let him take the
holy picture to protect his spirit from pernicious influence.
"Tush! tush! thou silly babe," the elder woman chid her, "were it not
better for thee to have for husband a rich khawâjah than a wretched
painter of religious pictures? Thou wouldst wear fine Frankish clothes
of wondrous texture and hats, I tell thee, hats with waving feathers.
Thou wouldst sit at ease all day, with maids to wait on thee."
"I want none of it," screamed Nesîbeh. "These are devil's wiles. May
Allah blast thy life, unnatural woman, thus to tempt thy son to sell his
soul, his part in everlasting life, for earthly gain."
Iskender took her in his arms and silenced her; then turned to pacify his
mother, who was much incensed. Had she thought for herself at all? Was
not all her endeavour to secure prosperity and a high position for
Iskender, and, of course, his bride? What right had this chit of a girl,
who knew nothing of the world, nor the shifts that folks are forced to
who would live in it comfortably, to call her husband's mother an
unnatural woman for displaying a little forethought? And Allah knew it
was a grievous pity, for her adherence would have clinched the matter.
They would have given Iskender anything on earth to secure the conversion
of the daughter of the Orthodox priest. Appeased at length, she asked to
see the picture. It was a simple fancy of Iskender's, done in leisure
moments, of angels fighting devils in mid-air, with clouds like solid
cushions spread to fall on.
"Aye, that may pass," she admitted grudgingly, "the fiends at all events,
for they believe in them."
In a dream, Iskender, at his mother's side, approached once more the
Mission on the sandhills, traversed the garden and the clean cool hall,
and entered the reception-room with its soft carpets, polished chairs and
tables, which had presented to his childish mind the life of palaces.
There sat the ladies with their work-baskets, each in her special chair,
exactly as of yore. There was the canary in its cage, and there was the
dog in Hilda's lap as usual. The mother of George came forward and shook
hands with him, then made him sit beside her and recount his doings.
Conscious of independent standing, he was fearless and behaved with
dignity; he even asked for news of the Emîr without confusion. The other
ladies chatted kindly of his marriage, praising the beauty of the bride,
whom they knew only by sight; even the Father of Ice shook hands with
him, and hoped with a smile that he was well and thriving. It surprised
him much to see his mother making frequent reverence, to hear her asking
pardon in his name.
Having inquired for George and the rest of the children, each by name,
and assured himself of their welfare, he conceived that he had said
enough, and wished to go. It was then that he made his offering,
producing the little picture and placing it in the lady's hand with
conscious pride. The effect was quite other than he had expected. The
ladies Carûlîn and Jane turned from it with a pitying smile; Hilda
remarked, "I prefer your earlier work;" the missionary indulged in a curt
laugh; while the mother of George herself, the blest recipient, was dumb,
till, seeing trouble in Iskender's eyes, she forced a smile and exclaimed:
"A curious picture! I shall certainly preserve it among my treasures."
Outside the house again, his mother punched Iskender in the back and spat
at him, calling him fool and marplot, cursing all his ancestry.
"Hast thou no sense, no perspicacity? When all went well, what need to
show thy picture? Why bring a picture that had angels in it? I saw them
shudder and go yellow at the sight of those white, holy ones. Couldst
thou not paint a picture all of devils, or else of things without
religious meaning? And what possessed thee to inquire concerning the
health of that bad Emîr, who spurned the love of the Sitt Hilda? Thou
knewest nothing of the story? Say that again, unblushing liar!--when I
myself informed thee on our way up thither. Merciful Allah! So thou
heardest nothing; thy wits went wandering off, as always, to thy
painting, or the pleasures of thy bride; and, for the lack of a little
attention, mere politeness, the hopes of our house lie ruined. Naturally
poor Hilda thought thy question was designed to taunt her. I saw how red
she went, though thou didst not. But for that she would certainly have
praised thy picture. Now she hates thee. Well, no doubt it is from
Allah! But none the less it is hard for me to bear, with the wife of
Costantîn for ever dinning in my ear her son's achievements. And why, if
thou must be a painter, dost thou not go to Beyrût, that great
fashionable city, superior to any in Europe, where folks have taste, and
thou couldst make a fortune by thy art? Thy bride could help thee in the
world of fashion, for her father is well known and has rich friends among
the Orthodox. But where is the use in talking to a man like thee? Thou
hast no spirit, no ambition."
Iskender did not argue. His mother's note of angry lamentation, in
strange accordance with his feelings at that moment, condoned the
sharpness of her words, which hardly reached him. The failure of the
missionaries to see the merit in his work showed ignorance, but was their
own affair; the omission to say "thank you" for his gift was downright
rudeness. Their open contempt of his little masterpiece rankled hot in
his mind. He vowed before Allah never again to seek to please a Frank
and risk such insult. Henceforth he would cleanse his mouth whenever he
so much as passed in the street near one of that accursed race.
With pride he called himself a Nazarene, a native Christian of the land,
preferring the insolent domination of the Muslim, his blood-relative, to
the arrogance of so-called Christian strangers.
Returning home, he told Nesîbeh of his determination to start next
morning early for the Holy City. His bride was glad, for she had feared
much from his visit to the missionaries, and longed to remove him far
from their hellish wiles.