_Freedom_
THREE or four days had elapsed since the departure of Fakredeen, and
during each of them Tancred saw Eva; indeed, his hours were much passed
in the pavilion of the great Sheikh, and, though he was never alone with
the daughter of Besso, the language which they spoke, unknown to those
about them, permitted them to confer without restraint on those subjects
in which they were interested. Tancred opened his mind without reserve
to Eva, for he liked to test the soundness of his conclusions by her
clear intelligence. Her lofty spirit harmonised with his own high-toned
soul. He found both sympathy and inspiration in her heroic purposes. Her
passionate love of her race, her deep faith in the destiny and genius
of her Asian land, greatly interested him. To his present position she
referred occasionally, but with reluctance; it seemed as if she thought
it unkind entirely to pass it over, yet that to be reminded of it
was not satisfactory. Of Fakredeen she spoke much and frequently. She
expressed with frankness, even with warmth, her natural and deep regard
for him, the interest she took in his career, and the high opinion she
entertained of his powers; but she lamented his inventive restlessness,
which often arrested action, and intimated how much he might profit
by the counsels of a friend more distinguished for consistency and
sternness of purpose.
In the midst of all this, Fakredeen returned. He came in the early
morning, and immediately repaired to the pavilion of the great Sheikh,
with whom he was long closeted. Baroni first brought the news to
Tancred, and subsequently told him that the quantity of nargilehs smoked
by the young Emir indicated not only a prolonged, but a difficult,
controversy. Some time after this, Tancred, lounging in front of his
tent, and watching the shadows as they stole over the mountain tombs,
observed Fakredeen issue from the pavilion of Amalek. His flushed and
radiant countenance would seem to indicate good news. As he recognised
Tancred, he saluted him in the Eastern fashion, hastily touching his
heart, his lip, and his brow. When he had reached Tancred, Fakredeen
threw himself in his arms, and, embracing him, whispered in an agitated
voice on the breast of Lord Montacute, ‘Friend of my heart, you are
free!’
In the meantime, Amalek announced to his tribe that at sunset the
encampment would break up, and they would commence their return to the
Syrian wilderness, through the regions eastward of the Dead Sea. The
Lady Eva would accompany them, and the children of Rechab were to have
the honour of escorting her and her attendants to the gates of Damascus.
A detachment of five-and-twenty Beni-Rechab were to accompany Fakredeen
and Tancred, Hassan and his Jellaheens, in a contrary direction of the
desert, until they arrived at Gaza, where they were to await further
orders from the young Emir.
No sooner was this intelligence circulated than the silence which had
pervaded the desert ruins at once ceased. Men came out of every tent and
tomb. All was bustle and noise. They chattered, they sang, they talked
to their horses, they apprised their camels of the intended expedition.
They declared that the camels had consented to go; they anticipated a
prosperous journey; they speculated on what tribes they might encounter.
It required all the consciousness of great duties, all the inspiration
of a great purpose, to sustain Tancred under this sudden separation
from Eva. Much he regretted that it was not also his lot to traverse the
Syrian wilderness, but it was not for him to interfere with arrangements
which he could neither control nor comprehend. All that passed amid
the ruins of this desert city was as incoherent and restless as the
incidents of a dream; yet not without the bright passages of strange
fascination which form part of the mosaic of our slumbering reveries.
At dawn a prisoner, at noon a free man, yet still, from his position,
unable to move without succour, and without guides; why he was captured,
how he was enfranchised, alike mysteries; Tancred yielded without a
struggle to the management of that individual who was clearly master
of the situation. Fakredeen decided upon everything, and no one was
inclined to impugn the decrees of him whose rule commenced by conferring
freedom.
It was only half an hour to sunset. The advanced guard of the children
of Rechab, mounted on their dromedaries, and armed with lances, had
some hours ago quitted the ruins. The camels, laden with the tents and
baggage, attended by a large body of footmen with matchlocks, and who,
on occasion, could add their own weight to the burden of their charge,
were filing through the mountains; some horsemen were galloping about
the plain and throwing the jereed; a considerable body, most of them
dismounted, but prepared for the seat, were collected by the river side;
about a dozen steeds of the purest race, one or two of them caparisoned,
and a couple of dromedaries, were picketed before the pavilion of the
great Sheikh, which was not yet struck, and about which some grooms were
squatted, drinking coffee, and every now and then turning to the horses,
and addressing them in tones of the greatest affection and respect.
Suddenly one of the grooms jumped up and said, ‘He comes;’ and then
going up to a bright bay mare, whose dark prominent eye equalled in
brilliancy, and far exceeded in intelligence, the splendid orbs of
the antelope, he addressed her, and said, ‘O Diamond of Derayeh, the
Princess of the desert can alone ride on thee!’
There came forth from his pavilion the great Amalek, accompanied by some
of his Sheikhs; there came forth from the pavilion Eva, attended by her
gigantic Nubian and her maidens; there came forth from the pavilion the
Emir Fakredeen and Lord Mon-tacute.
‘There is but one God,’ said the great Sheikh as he pressed his hand to
his heart, and bade farewell to the Emir and his late prisoner. ‘May he
guard over us all!’
‘Truly there is but one God,’ echoed the attendant Sheikhs. ‘May you
find many springs!’
The maidens were placed on their dromedaries; the grooms, as if by
magic, had already struck the pavilion of their Sheikh, and were stowing
it away on the back of a camel; Eva, first imprinting on the neck of the
mare a gentle embrace, vaulted into the seat of the Diamond of Derayeh,
which she rode in the fashion of Zenobia. To Tancred, with her inspired
brow, her cheek slightly flushed, her undulating figure, her eye proud
of its dominion over the beautiful animal which moved its head with
haughty satisfaction at its destiny, Eva seemed the impersonation of
some young classic hero going forth to conquer a world.
Striving to throw into her countenance and the tones of her voice a
cheerfulness which was really at this moment strange to them, she
said, ‘Farewell, Fakredeen!’ and then, after a moment’s hesitation,
and looking at Tancred with a faltering glance which yet made his heart
tremble, she added, ‘Farewell, Pilgrim of Sinai.’