M. Périères was riding on the flank of the column when his eyes fell
on a man of the rear-guard, whose arms and hands were covered with
blood. He thought he was wounded, and, going up to him, asked him how
it had happened.
"I am not wounded," sulkily replied the Nubian.
"How, then, come your hands to be covered with blood?"
"It is my slave's blood, not mine."
"Your slave! You have a slave? Who gave her to you, or where did you
get hold of her?"
"I bought her," replied the soldier, with an air of pride.
"Since we started? In that case you have been guilty of disobedience
to orders. We have expressly forbidden all traffic in slaves as far
as this caravan is concerned."
"I have not disobeyed your orders. The woman was mine long ago; she
had accompanied me in many of my expeditions, and Nassar allowed me
to bring her with me."
"Where is she?"
"Down there, in that thicket we have just passed."
"Why does she stay behind? You have been ill-using her, I suppose."
"No; I have cut her head off," replied the soldier, quite simply, as
if the beheading of a slave were the most natural thing in the world.
"Wretch!" exclaimed M. Périères, seizing him by the arm, and
compelling him to stop.
The Nubian did not in the least understand this indignation. He
possessed a slave who was bound to follow him, to carry his baggage,
grind his corn, and work for him during the journey.
This woman ran away, and, as it was a first offence, he contented
himself with thrashing her; on the following day she ran away again,
and then he killed her, feeling convinced that, if he spared her
life, she would abscond once more, and his property would pass from
him to somebody else.
M. Périères ordered a general halt whilst he sent the two
interpreters to the thicket pointed out by the Nubian, with orders to
find out whether the slave were really killed, and, if so, to bury
her.
Omar and Ali returned very quickly with the intelligence that they
had found the corpse at the place indicated.
The Europeans then held a consultation, and decided that the culprit
should receive a hundred lashes on the spot, in sight of the whole
caravan.
But the punishment alone was not enough; it was necessary to explain
why it was inflicted. The Arabs and Nubians could never have
understood that any one of them ought to be chastised for simply, as
in this case, making away with his own property.
The interpreters were, therefore, to explain generally that the
soldier had been punished for shedding the blood, not of his slave,
but of a member of the expedition, and that for the future the crime
of murder, under whatever circumstances it might be committed, would
carry with it the penalty of death.
Having thus established a precedent and promulgated a law, the
caravan moved on.
Beginning the day at about four o'clock in the morning, the bearers
had enough of it by noon, so that at that hour, and sometimes
earlier, the halting-place for the night was reached. As a rule the
Europeans, except when the stages of the journey happened to have
been more than ordinarily long, did not retire to rest before nine or
ten o'clock, the evening being occupied in chatting about their
plans, questioning Nassar as to what had gone on during the day, and
arranging the route for the morrow.
Madame de Guéran was the life and soul of these evenings, and when
she chanced to retire early, everybody followed her example except
MM. de Morin and Delange, who seized that opportunity of devoting
themselves to écarté, bezique, or piquet. They had played about a
hundred _parties_, and were quits, as far as play during the journey
was concerned. The back debt remained at the same figure; the Doctor
could not achieve any reduction in his floating liability, but at all
events, it did not increase, and his bad luck was not sticking to him
as it had done in Paris. Consequently he looked hopefully forward to
the future, and, so far from being in despair about wiping off the
old score, he thought he had the chance of turning the balance
considerably in his own favour. This prospect enabled him to put up
with the monotony of the journey, and kept him in good spirits.
Though he thought Madame de Guéran everything that was charming, he
had the good sense to understand that falling in love with her would
be mere waste of time. He was careful, therefore, not to follow in
the footsteps of his friends, and, in the hours of relaxation he
devoted himself to sentimental conversation with Miss Beatrice Poles,
taking care, with his habitual prudence, not to look at her lest her
physical aspect should detract from her moral and intellectual
qualities.