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Title: Khaled, A Tale of Arabia
Author: F. Marion Crawford
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KHALED: A TALE OF ARABIA
KHALED
A Tale of Arabia
By F. MARION CRAWFORD
London
MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1901
All rights reserved
COPYRIGHT
1891
BY
F. MARION CRAWFORD
First Edition (2 Vols. Globe 8vo) May 1891. Second
Edition (1 Vol. Crown 8vo) November 1891, 1892
Re-issue 1901
TABLE OF CONTENTS
[1]
CHAPTER I
Khaled stood in the third heaven, which is the heaven
of precious stones, and of Asrael, the angel of Death.
In the midst of the light shed by the fruit of the trees
Asrael himself is sitting, and will sit until the day of
the resurrection from the dead, writing in his book the
names of those who are to be born, and blotting out the
names of those who have lived their years and must
die. Each of the trees has seventy thousand branches,
each branch bears seventy thousand fruits, each fruit is
composed of seventy thousand diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
carbuncles, jacinths, and other precious stones. The
stature and proportions of Asrael are so great that his
eyes are seventy thousand days' journey apart, the one
from the other.
Khaled stood motionless during ten months and
thirteen days, waiting until Asrael should rest from his
writing and look towards him. Then came the holy
night called Al Kadr, the night of peace in which the[2]
Koran came down from heaven. Asrael paused, and
raising his eyes from the scroll saw Khaled standing
before him.
Asrael knew Khaled, who was one of the genii converted
to the faith on hearing Mohammed read the
Koran by night in the valley Al Nakhlah. He wondered,
however, when he saw him standing in his presence;
for the genii are not allowed to pass even the gate of
the first heaven, in which the stars hang by chains of
gold, each star being inhabited by an angel who guards
the entrance against the approach of devils.
Asrael looked at Khaled in displeasure, therefore,
supposing that he had eluded the heavenly sentinels
and concealed an evil purpose. But Khaled inclined
himself respectfully.
'There is no Allah but Allah. Mohammed is the
prophet of Allah,' he said, thus declaring himself to be
of the Moslem genii, who are upright and are true
believers.
'How camest thou hither?' asked Asrael.
'By the will of Allah, who sent his angel with me
to the gate,' Khaled answered. 'I am come hither that
thou mayest write down my name in the book of life
and death, that I may be a man on earth, and after an
appointed time thou shalt blot it out again and I shall
die.'
Asrael gazed at him and knew that this was the will[3]
of Allah, for the angels are thus immediately made
conscious of the divine commands. He took up his pen
to write, but before he had traced the first letter he
paused.
'This is the night Al Kadr,' he said. 'If thou wilt,
tell me therefore thy story, for I am now at leisure to
hear it.'
'Thou knowest that I am of the upright genii,'
Khaled answered, 'and I am well disposed towards
men. In the city of Riad, in Arabia, there rules a
powerful king, the Sultan of the kingdom of Nejed,
blessed in all things save that he has no son to inherit
his vast dominions. One daughter only has been born
to him in his old age, of such marvellous beauty that
even the Black Eyed Virgins enclosed in the fruit of
the tree Sedrat, who wait for the coming of the faithful,
would seem but mortal women beside her. Her eyes
are as the deep water in the wells of Zobeideh when
it is night and the stars are reflected therein. Her hair
is finer than silk, red with henna, and abundant as the
foliage of the young cypress tree. Her face is as fair as
the kernels of young almonds, and her mouth is sweeter
than the mellow date and more fragrant than 'Ood
mingled with ambergris. She possesses moreover all
the virtues which become women, for she is as modest
as she is beautiful and as charitable as she is modest.
From all parts of Arabia and Egypt, and from Syria and[4]
from Persia, and even from Samarkand, from Afghanistan,
and from India princes and kings' sons continually
come to ask her in marriage, for the fame of her beauty
and of her virtues is as wide as the world. But her
father, desiring only her happiness, leaves the choice of
a husband to herself, and for a long time she refused all
her suitors. For there is in the palace at Riad a certain
secret chamber from which she can observe all those
who come and hear their conversation and see the gifts
which they bring with them.
'At last there came as a suitor an unbeliever, a
prince of an island by the shores of India, beautiful as
the moon, whose speech was honey, and who surpassed
all the suitors in riches and in the magnificence of the
presents he brought. For he came bearing with him a
hundred pounds' weight of pure gold, and five hundred
ounces of ambergris, and a great weight of musk and
aloes and sandal wood, and rich garments without
number, and many woven shawls of Kashmir, of which
the least splendid was valued at a thousand sherifs of
gold. An innumerable retinue accompanied him, and
twenty elephants, and horses without number, besides
camels.
'The Sultan's daughter beheld this beautiful prince
from her secret hiding-place, and all that he had brought
with him. The Sultan received him with kindness and
hospitality, but assured him that unless he would renounce[5]
idolatry and embrace the true faith he could not
hope to succeed in his purpose. Thereupon he was
much cast down, and soon afterwards, having received
magnificent gifts in his turn, he would have departed
on his way, disappointed and heavy at heart. But
Zehowah sent for her father and entreated him to bid
the young prince remain. "For it is not impossible,"
she said, "that he may yet be converted to the true
faith. And have I the right to refuse to sacrifice my
freedom when the sacrifice may be the means of converting
an idolater to the right way? And if I marry
him and go with him to his kingdom, shall we not make
true believers of all his subjects, so that I shall deserve
to be called the mother of the faithful like Ayesha,
beloved by the Prophet, upon whom be peace?" The
Sultan found it hard to oppose this argument which was
founded upon virtue and edified in righteousness. He
therefore entreated the Indian prince to remain and to
profess Islam, promising the hand of Zehowah when he
should be converted.
'Then I heard the prince taking secret counsel with
a certain old man who was with him, who shaved his
face and wore white clothing and ate food which he
prepared for himself alone. The prince told all, and
then the old man counselled him in this way. "Speak
whatsoever words they require of thee," he said, "for
words are but garments wherewith to make the nakedness[6]
of truth modest and agreeable. And take the
woman, and by and by, when we are returned to our
own land, if she consent to worship thy gods, it is good;
and if not, it is yet good, for thou shalt possess her as
thy wife, and her unbelief shall be of consequence only
to her own soul, but thy soul shall not be retarded in
its progress." And the young prince was pleased, and
promised to do as his counsellor advised him.
'So I saw that he was false and that Zehowah's
righteousness would be but the means to her sorrow if
she were allowed to persist. Therefore in the night,
when all were asleep in the palace, I entered into the
room where the prince was lying, and I took him in my
arms and flew with him to the midst of the Red Desert,
and there I slew him and buried him in the sand, for I
saw that he was a liar and had determined to be a
hypocrite.
'But Allah immediately sent an angel to destroy me
because I had put to death a man who was about to become
a believer, thereby killing his soul also, since he had
not yet made profession of the faith. But I stood up and
defended myself, saying that I had slain a hypocrite
who had planned in his heart to carry away the daughter
of a Moslem. Then the angel asked the truth of the
prince's soul, which was sitting upon the red sand that
covered the body. The soul answered, weeping, and
said: "These are true words, and I am fuel for hell."[7]
"Have I then deserved death?" I asked. "I have
killed an unbeliever." The angel answered that I had
deserved life; and he would have left me and returned
to paradise, but I would not let him go, and I besought
him to entreat Allah that I might be allowed to live
the life of a mortal man upon earth. "For," I said,
"thou sayest that I deserve life. But even if thou
destroy me not now I am only one of the genii, who
shall all die at the first blast of the trumpet before the
resurrection of the dead. Obtain for me therefore that
I may have a soul and live a few years, and if I do
good I shall then be with the faithful in paradise; and
if not, I shall be bound with red-hot chains and burn
everlastingly like a sinful man." The angel promised
to intercede for me and departed. So I sat down upon
the mound of red sand beside the soul of the Indian
prince, to wait for the angel's coming again.
'Then the soul reproached me angrily. "But for
thee," it said, "I should have married Zehowah and
returned to my own people, and although I purposed to
be a hypocrite, yet in time Zehowah might have convinced
me and I should have believed in my heart.
For I now see that there is no Allah but Allah, and
that Mohammed is the prophet of Allah. And I should
perhaps have died full of years, a good Moslem, and
should have entered paradise. Therefore I pray Allah
that this may be remembered in thy condemnation." At[8]
these words I was very angry and reviled the soul,
scoffing at it. "No doubt Allah will hear thy prayer,"
I answered, "and will hear also at the same time thy
lies. And as for Zehowah, thinkest thou that she
would have loved thee, even if she had married thee?
I tell thee that her soul rejoices only in the light of the
faith, and that although she might have married thee,
she would have done so in the hope of turning thy
people from the worship of false gods and not for love of
thee. For she will never love any man." When I had
said this the soul groaned aloud and then remained
silent.
'In a little while the angel came back, and I saw
that his face was no longer clouded with anger. "Hear
the judgment of Allah," he said. "Inasmuch as thou
tookest the law upon thyself, which belonged to Allah
alone, thou deservest to die. But in so far as thou hast
indeed slain a hypocrite and an unbeliever thou hast
earned life. Allah is just, merciful and forgiving. It
is not meet that in thy lot there should be nothing but
reward or nothing but punishment. Therefore thou
shalt not yet receive a soul. Go hence to the third
heaven and when the angel Asrael shall be at leisure
he will write thy name in the book of the living. Then
thou shalt return hither and go into the city of Riad
bearing gifts. And Zehowah will accept thee in marriage,
though she love thee not, for Allah commands that it be[9]
so. But if in the course of time this virtuous woman
be moved to love, and say to thee, 'Khaled, I love thee,'
then at that moment thou shalt receive an immortal
soul, and if thy deeds be good thy soul shall enter
paradise with the believers, but if not, thou shalt burn.
Thus saith Allah. Thus art thou rewarded, indeed, but
wisely and temperately, since thou hast not obtained
life directly, but only the hope of life." Then the angel
departed again, leading the way.
'But the soul mocked me. "Thou that sayest of
Zehowah that she will never love any man, thou art
fallen into thine own trap," it cried. "For now, if she
love thee not thou must perish. Truly, Allah heard my
prayer." But I was filled with thankfulness and departed
after the angel, leaving the soul sitting alone
upon the red sand.
'Thus have I told thee my history, O Asrael. And
now I pray thee to write my name in the book of the
living that I may fulfil the command of Allah and go
my way to the city of Riad.'
Then Asrael again took up his pen to write in the
book.
'Now thou art become a living man, though thou
hast as yet no soul,' he said. 'And thou art subject to
death by the sword and by sickness and by all those
evils which spring up in the path of the living. And
the day of thy death is already known to Allah who[10]
knows all things. But he is merciful and will doubtless
grant thee a term of years in which to make thy trial.
Nevertheless be swift in thy journey and speedy in all
thou doest, for though mortal man may live for ever
hereafter in glory, his years on earth are but as the
breath which springs up in the desert towards evening
and is gone before the stars appear.'
Khaled made a salutation before Asrael and went
out of the third heaven, and passed through the second
which is of burnished steel, and through the first in
which the stars hang by golden chains, where Adam
waits for the day of the resurrection, and at the gate he
found the angel who had led him, and who now lifted
him in his arms and bore him back to the Red Desert;
for as he was now a mortal man he could no longer
move through the air like the genii between the outer
gate of heaven and the earth. Nor could he any longer
see the soul of the Indian prince sitting upon the sand,
though it was still there. But the angel was visible to
him. So they stood together, and the angel spoke to
him.
'Thou art now a mortal man,' he said, 'and subject to
time as to death. To thee it seems but a moment since
we went up together to the gate, and yet thou wast
standing ten months and thirteen days before Asrael,
and of the body of the man whom thou slewest only
the bones remain.'[11]
So saying the angel blew upon the red sand and
Khaled saw the white bones of the prince in the place
where he had laid his body. So he was first made
conscious of time.
'Nearly a year has passed, and though Allah be very
merciful to thee, yet he will assuredly not suffer thee to
live beyond the time of other men. Make haste therefore
and depart upon thine errand. Yet because thou
art come into the world a grown man, having neither
father nor mother nor inheritance, I will give thee what
is most necessary for thy journey.'
Then the angel took a handful of leaves from a
ghada bush close by and gave them to Khaled, and as
he gave them they were changed into a rich garment,
and into linen, and into a shawl with which to make a
turban, and shoes of red leather.
'Clothe thyself with these,' said the angel.
He broke a twig from the bush and placed it in
Khaled's hand. Immediately it became a sabre of
Damascus steel, in a sheath of leather with a belt.
'Take this sword, which is of such fine temper that
it will cleave through an iron headpiece and a shirt of
mail. But remember that it is not a sword made by
magic. Let thy magic reside in thy arm, wield it for
the faith, and put thy trust in Allah.'
Afterwards the angel took up a locust that was
asleep on the sand waiting for the warmth of the morning[12]
sun. The angel held the locust up before Khaled,
and then let it fall. But as it fell it became at once a
beautiful bay mare with round black eyes wide apart
and an arching tail which swept down to the sand like
a river of silk.
'Take this mare,' said the angel; 'she is of the pure
breed of Nejed and as swift as the wind, but mortal
like thyself.'
'But how shall I ride her without saddle or bridle?'
asked Khaled.
'That is true,' answered the angel.
He laid leaves of the ghada upon the mare's back
and they became a saddle, and placed a twig in her
mouth and it turned into a bit and bridle.
Khaled thanked the angel and mounted.
'Farewell and prosper, and put thy trust in Allah,
and forget not the day of judgment,' the angel said, and
immediately returned to paradise.
So Khaled was left alone in the Red Desert, a living
man obliged to shift for himself, liable to suffer hunger
and thirst or to be slain by robbers, with no worldly
possessions but his sword, his bay mare, and the clothes
on his back. He knew moreover that he was more
than two hundred miles from the city of Riad, and he
knew that he could not accomplish this journey in less
than four days. For when he was one of the genii he
had often watched men toiling through desert on foot,[13]
and on camels and on horses, and had laughed with
his companions at the slow progress they made. But
now it was no laughing matter, for he had forgotten to
ask the angel for dates and water, or even for a few
handfuls of barley meal.
He turned the mare's head westward of the Goat, in
which is the polar star, for he remembered that when
he had carried away the Indian prince he had flown
toward the south-east, and as he began to gallop over
the dark sand he laughed to himself.
'What poor things are men and their horses,' he said.
'To destroy me, this mare need only stumble and lame
herself, and we shall both die of hunger and thirst in
the desert.'
This reflection made him at first urge the mare to
her greatest speed, for he thought that the sooner he
should be out of the desert and among the villages
beyond, the present danger would be passed. But
presently he bethought him that the mare would be
more likely to stumble and hurt herself in the dark if
she were galloping than if she were moving at a
moderate pace. He therefore drew bridle and patted
her neck and made her walk slowly and cautiously
forward.
But this did not please him either, after a time, for
he remembered that if he rode too slowly he must die
of hunger before reaching the end of his journey.[14]
'Truly,' he said, 'one must learn what it is to be a
man, in order to understand the uses of moderation.
Gallop not lest thy horse fall and thou perish! Nor
delay walking slowly by the road, lest thou die of thirst
and hunger! Yet thou art not safe, for Al Walid died
from treading upon an arrow, and Oda ibn Kais perished
by perpetual sneezing. Allah is just and merciful! I
will let the mare go at her own pace, for the end of all
things is known.'
The mare, being left to herself, began to canter and
carried Khaled onward all night without changing her
gait.
'Nevertheless,' thought Khaled, 'if we are not soon
out of the desert we shall suffer thirst during the day
as well as hunger.'
When there was enough daylight to distinguish a
black thread from a white, Khaled looked before him
and saw that there was nothing but red sand in hillocks
and ridges, with ghada bushes here and there. But still
the mare cantered on and did not seem tired. Soon
the sun rose and it grew very hot, for the air was quite
still and it was summer time.
Khaled looked always before him and at last he saw
a white patch in the distance and he knew that there
must be water near it. For the water of the Red Desert
whitens the sand. He therefore rode on cheerfully, for
he was now thirsty, and the mare quickened her pace,[15]
for she also knew that she was near a drinking-place.
But as they came close to the spot Khaled remembered
that the preceding night had been Al Kadr, which
falls between the seventh and eighth latter days of the
month Ramadhan, during which the true believers
neither eat nor drink so long as there is light enough
to distinguish a white thread from a black one. So,
when they reached the well, he let his mare drink her
fill, and he took off the saddle and bridle and let her
loose, after which he sat down with his head in the
shade of a ghada bush to rest himself.
'Allah is merciful,' he said; 'the night will come,
and then I will drink.' For he dared not ride farther,
for fear of not finding water again.
Then again he was disturbed, for he had nothing to
eat, and he thought that if he waited until night he
would be hungry as well as thirsty. But presently he
saw the mare trying to catch the locusts that flew about.
She could only catch one or two, because it was now
hot and they were able to fly quickly.
'When the night comes,' he said, 'the locusts will
lie on the ground and cling to the bushes, being stiff
with the cold, and then I will eat my fill, and drink
also.'
Soon afterwards he fell asleep, being weary, and
when he awoke it was night again and the stars were
shining overhead. Khaled rose hastily and drank at[16]
the well and made ablutions and prayed, prostrating
himself towards the Kebla. He remembered that he
had slept a long time, and that he had not performed
his devotions for a day and a night, so that he repeated
them five times, to atone for the omission.
The mare was eating the locusts that now lay in
great black patches on the sand unable to move and
save themselves. Khaled threw his cloak over a great
number of them and gathered them together. Then he
kindled a fire of ghada by striking sparks from the
blade of his sword, and when he had made a bed of
coals he roasted the locusts after pulling off their legs,
and ate his fill. While he was doing this he was much
disturbed in mind.
'I have only just begun to live as a man,' he thought.
'Did I not stand ten months and thirteen days in the
third heaven, unconscious of the passing of time? Who
shall tell me whether I have not slept another ten
months or more under this bush, like the companions
of Al Rakim?'
So, when he had done eating and had drunk again
from the well, and had made the mare drink, he saddled
her quickly and mounted, and cantered on through the
night, guiding his course by the stars. On the following
day he again found a well, but much later than
before, and he suffered much from thirst as he watched
his mare dip her black lips into the pool. Nevertheless[17]
he would not break his fast, for he was resolved to be a
true believer in practice as well as in belief. So he
fell asleep and awoke when it was night again, and ate
and drank. In this way he journeyed several days
until he began to see the hill country which borders
the desert towards Riad, and he understood that he had
been much farther away than he had imagined. But
he reflected that Allah had doubtless intended to try
his constancy by imposing upon him the journey
through the desert during the days of fasting. But at
last, he awoke one day just at sunset, instead of sleeping
until the night. He had been travelling up the
first slopes where the ground, though barren, is harder
than in the desert, and had lain down in a hollow by
an abundant spring. He rose now and made ablutions
and prayed, as usual, towards Mecca; that is to say,
being where he was, he turned his face to the west as
the sun was setting. When he had finished he stood
some minutes watching the red light over the desert
below him, and then he was suddenly aware that the
new moon was hanging just above the diminishing fire
of the evening, and he knew that the fast of Ramadhan
was over and that the feast of Bairam had begun.
Thereat he was glad, and determined to take an unusual
number of locusts for his evening meal.
But when he looked about he saw that there were
no locusts in the place, though there was grass, which[18]
his mare was eating. Then he looked everywhere near
the well to see whether some traveller had not perhaps
dropped a few dates or a little barley by accident, but
there was nothing.
'Doubtless,' he said, 'Allah wishes to show me that
greediness is a sin even on the day of feasting.'
He drank as much of the water as he could in order
to stay his hunger as well as assuage his thirst, and then
he saddled the mare and rode up out of the hollow
towards the hill country. Towards the middle of the
night he came to a small village where all the people
were celebrating the feast, having killed a young camel
and several sheep. Seeing that he was a traveller they
bade him be welcome, and he sat down among them and
ate his fill of meat, praising Allah. And corn was
given to his mare, so that the dumb animal also kept
the feast.
'Truly,' said the people, 'thy mare is a daughter of
Al Borak, the heavenly steed called "the Lightning,"
upon which the nocturnal journey was accomplished
by the Prophet, upon whom be peace.'
They said this not because they divined that the
mare had been given to Khaled by an angel, but because
they saw by her beauty that she must be swift as
the wind. For she had a large head, with bony cheeks,
and a full forehead and round black eyes wide apart,
with smooth black skin about them, and a pointed nose,[19]
and the under lip was like that of a camel, projecting a
little. And she was neither too long nor too short,
having straight legs like steel, and small feet and round
hoofs, neither overgrown in idleness nor overworn with
much work. And her tail lay flat and long and smooth
when she was standing still but arched like the plume
of an ostrich when she moved. Her coat was bright
bay, glossy and smooth and without any white markings.
By all these signs, which belong to the purest
blood, the people of the village knew that she was
of the fleetest reared in Arabia. And Khaled was
glad that the people admired her, since she was the
chief of his few possessions, which indeed were not
many.
He did not know beforehand what he should do, nor
what he should say when in the presence of the Sultan
of Nejed, still less how he could venture to ask Zehowah
in marriage, having no gifts to offer and not being himself
a prince. Before he had become a man it would
have been easy for him to find treasures in the earth
such as men had never seen, for, like all the genii, he
had been acquainted with the most deeply hidden
mines and with all places where men had hidden
wealth in old times. But this knowledge does not
belong to the intelligence becoming mortals, but rather
to the faculty of seeing through solid substance which
is exercised by the spirits of the air, and in his present[20]
state it was taken from him, together with all possibility
of communicating with his former companions. He
had nothing but his mare and his sword and the garments
he wore, and though the mare was indeed a gift
for a king he did not know whether he was meant to
offer it to any one, seeing that it had been given him
by an angel.
Nevertheless he did not lose heart, for the celestial
messenger had told him that by the will of Allah he
should marry Zehowah, and Allah was certainly able to
give him a king's daughter in marriage without the
aid of gifts, of gold, of musk, of 'Ood, of aloes or of
pearls.
He rose, therefore, when he had eaten enough and
had rested himself and his mare, and after thanking the
people of the village for their entertainment he rode on
his way. He passed through a hill country, sometimes
fertile and sometimes stony and deserted, but he found
water by the way and such food as he needed; and
accomplished the remainder of the journey without
hindrance.
On the morning of the second day he came to a
halting-place from which he could see the city of Riad,
and he was astonished at the size and magnificence of
the Sultan's palace, which was visible above the walls
of the fortification. Yet he was aware that he had seen
all this before as in a dream not altogether forgotten[21]
when a man wakes at dawn after a long and restless
night.
He gazed awhile, after he had made his ablutions,
and then calling to his mare to come to him, he mounted
and rode through the southern gate into the heart of
the city.
[22]
CHAPTER II
When Khaled reached the palace he dismounted from
his mare, and leading her by the bridle entered the
gateway. Here he met many persons, guards, and
slaves both black and white, and porters bearing provisions,
and a few women, all hurrying hither and
thither; and many noticed him, but a few gazed curiously
into his face, and two or three grooms followed
him a little way, pointing out to each other the beauties
of his mare.
'Truly,' they said, 'if we did not know the mares of
the stud better than the faces of our mothers, we should
swear by Allah that this beast had been stolen from the
Sultan's stables by a thief in the night, for she is of the
best blood in Nejed.'
These being curious they saluted Khaled and asked
him whence he came and whither he was going, seeing
that it is not courteous to ask a stranger any other
questions.
'I come from the Red Desert,' Khaled answered, 'and
I am going into the palace as you see.'[23]
The grooms saw that there was a rebuke in the last
part of his answer and hung back and presently went
their way.
'Are such mares bred in the Red Desert?' they
exclaimed. 'The stranger is doubtless the sheikh of
some powerful tribe. But if this be true, where are the
men that came with him? And why is he dressed like
a man of the city?'
So they hastened out of the gateway to find the
Bedouins who, they supposed, must have accompanied
Khaled on his journey.
But Khaled went forward and came to a great court
in which were stone seats by the walls. Here a number
of people were waiting. So he sat down upon one of
the seats and his mare laid her nose upon his shoulder
as though inquiring what he would do.
'Allah knows,' Khaled said, as though answering
her. So he waited patiently.
At last a man came out into the courtyard who was
richly dressed, and whom all the people saluted as he
passed. But he came straight towards Khaled, who
rose from his seat.
'Whence come you, my friend?' he inquired after
they had exchanged the salutation.
'From the Red Desert, and I desire permission to
speak with the Sultan when it shall please his majesty
to see me.'[24]
'And what do you desire of his majesty? I ask
that I may inform him beforehand. So you will have
a better reception.'
'Tell the Sultan,' said Khaled, 'that a man is here
who has neither father nor mother nor any possessions
beyond a swift mare, a keen sword and a strong hand,
but who is come nevertheless to ask in marriage
Zehowah, the Sultan's daughter.'
The minister smiled and gazed at Khaled in silence
for a moment, but when he had looked keenly at his face,
he became grave.
'It may be,' he thought, 'that this is some great
prince who comes thus simply as in a disguise, and it
were best not to anger him.'
'I will deliver your message,' he answered aloud,
'though it is a strange one. It is customary for those
who come to ask for a maiden in marriage to bring
gifts—and to receive others in return,' he added.
'I neither bring gifts nor ask any,' said Khaled.
'Allah is great and will provide me with what I need.'
'I fear that he will not provide you with the Sultan's
daughter for a wife,' said the minister as he went away,
but Khaled did not hear the words, though he would
have cared little if he had.
Now it chanced that Zehowah was sitting in a
balcony surrounded with lattice, over the courtyard, on
that morning and she had seen Khaled enter, leading[25]
his mare by the bridle. But though she watched the
stranger and his beast idly for some time she thought
as little of the one as of the other, for her heart was not
turned to love, and she knew nothing of horses. But
her women thought differently and spoke loudly, praising
the beauty of both.
'There is indeed a warrior able to fight in the front
of our armies,' they said. 'Truly such a man must
have been Khaled ibn Walad, the Sword of the Lord, in
the days of the Prophet—upon whom peace.'
By and by there was a cry that the Sultan was
coming into the room, and the women rose and retired.
The Sultan sat down upon the carpet by his daughter,
in the balcony.
'Do you see that stranger, holding a beautiful mare
by the bridle?' he asked.
'Yes, I see him,' answered Zehowah indifferently.
'He is come to ask you in marriage.'
'Another!' she exclaimed with a careless laugh.
'If it is the will of Allah I will marry him. If not, he
will go away like the rest.'
'This man is not like the rest, my daughter. He is
either a madman or some powerful prince in disguise.'
'Or both, perhaps,' laughed Zehowah. She laughed
often, for although she was not inclined to love, she was
of a gentle and merry temper.
'His message was a strange one,' said the Sultan.[26]
'He says that he neither brings gifts nor asks them,
that he has neither father nor mother, nor any
possessions excepting a swift mare, a keen sword and a
strong hand.'
'I see the mare, the sword and the hand,' answered
Zehowah. 'But the hand is like any other hand—how
can I tell whether it be strong? The sword is in its
sheath, and I cannot see its edge, and though the mare
is pretty enough, I have seen many of your own I liked
as well. The elephants of the Indian prince were more
amusing, and the prince himself was more beautiful
than this stranger with his black beard and his solemn
face.'
'That is true,' said the Sultan with a sigh.
'Do you wish me to marry this man?' Zehowah
asked.
'My daughter, I wish you to choose of your own free
will. Nevertheless I trust that you will choose before
long, that I may see my child's children before I die.'
For the Sultan was old and white-bearded, and was
already somewhat bowed with advancing years and with
burden of many cares and the fatigues of many wars.
Yet his eye was bright and his heart fearless still, though
his judgment was often weak and vacillating.
'Do you wish me to marry this man?' Zehowah asked
again. 'He will be a strange husband, for he is a
strange suitor, coming without gifts and having neither[27]
father nor mother. But I will do as you command. If
you leave it to me I shall never marry.'
'I did not say that I desired you to take this one
especially,' protested the Sultan, 'though for the matter
of gifts I care little, since heaven has sent me wealth
in abundance. But my remaining years are few,
and the years of life are like stones slipping from a
mountain which move slowly at first, and then faster
until they outrun the lightning and leap into the dark
valley below. And what is required of a husband is
that he be a true believer, young and whole in every
part, and of a charitable disposition.'
'Truly,' laughed Zehowah, 'if he have no possessions,
charity will avail him little, since he has nothing to
give.'
'There is other charity besides the giving of alms,
my daughter, since it is charity even to think charitably
of others, as you know. But I have not said that you
should marry this man, for you are free. And indeed I
have not yet talked with him. But I have sent for him
and you shall hear him speak. See—they are just now
conducting him to the hall of audiences. But indeed
I think he is no husband for you, after all.'
The Sultan rose and went to receive Khaled, and
Zehowah went to the secret window above her father's
raised seat in the hall.
Khaled made the customary salutation with the[28]
greatest respect, and the Sultan made him sit down at
his right hand as though he had been a prince, and
asked him whence he had come. Then a refreshment was
brought, and Khaled ate and drank a little, after which
the Sultan inquired his business.
'I come,' said Khaled boldly, 'to ask your daughter
Zehowah in marriage. I bring no gifts, for I have none
to offer, nor have I any inheritance. My mare is my
fortune, my sword is my argument and my wit is in
my arm.'
'You are a strange suitor,' said the Sultan; but he
kept a pleasant countenance, since Khaled was his
guest. 'You are no doubt the sheikh of a tribe of the
Red Desert, though I was not aware that any tribes
dwelt there.'
'So far as being the sheikh of my tribe,' said Khaled
with a smile, 'your majesty may call me so, for my
tribe consists of myself alone, seeing that I have neither
father nor mother nor any relations.'
'Truly, I have never talked with such a suitor
before,' answered the Sultan. 'At least I presume that
you are a son of some prince, and that you have chosen
to disguise yourself as a rich traveller and to hide your
history under an allegory.'
The Sultan would certainly not have allowed himself
to overstep the bounds of courtesy so far, but for
his astonishment at Khaled's daring manner. He was[29]
too keen, however, not to see that this man was something
above the ordinary and that, whatever else he
might be, he was not a common impostor. Such a
fellow would have found means to rob a caravan of
valuable goods, to offer as gifts, would have brought
himself a train of camels and slaves and would have
given himself out as a prince of some distant country
from which it would not be possible to obtain information.
'Istaghfir Allah! I am no prince,' Khaled answered.
'I ask for the hand of your daughter. The will of
Allah will be accomplished.'
He knew that Zehowah was watching and listening
behind the lattice in her place of concealment, for the
memory of such things had not been taken from him
when he had lost the supernatural vision of the genii
and had become an ordinary man. He was determined
therefore to be truthful and to say nothing which he
might afterwards be called upon to explain. For he
never doubted but that Zehowah would be his wife,
since the angel had told him that it should be so.
'And what if I refuse even to consider your proposal?'
inquired the Sultan, to see what he would say.
'If it is the will of Allah that I marry your daughter,
your refusal would be useless, but if it is not his will,
your refusal would be altogether unnecessary.'
The Sultan was much struck by this argument which[30]
showed a ready wit in the stranger and which he could
only have opposed by asserting that his own will was
superior to that of heaven itself.
'But,' said he, defending himself, 'any of the
previous suitors might have said the same.'
'Undoubtedly,' replied Khaled, unabashed. 'But they
did not say it. Your majesty will certainly now consider
the matter.'
'In the meanwhile,' the Sultan answered, very
graciously, 'you are my guest, and you have come in
time to take part in the third day of the feast, to which
you are welcome in the name of Allah, the merciful.'
Thereupon the Sultan rose and Khaled was conducted
to the apartments set apart for the guests. But the
Sultan returned to the harem in a very thoughtful mood,
and before long he found Zehowah who had returned to
her seat in the balcony.
'This is a very strange suitor,' he said, shaking his
head and looking into his daughter's face.
'He is at least bold and outspoken,' she answered.
'He makes no secret of his poverty nor of his wishes.
Whatever he be, he is in earnest and speaks truth. I
would like well to know the only secret which he wishes
to keep—who he really is.'
'It may be,' said the Sultan thoughtfully, 'that if I
threaten to cut off his head he will tell us. But on the
other hand, he is a guest.'[31]
'He is not of those who are easily terrified, I think.
Tell me, my father, do you wish me to marry him?'
'How could you marry a man who has no family
and no inheritance? Would such a marriage befit the
daughter of kings?'
'Why not?' asked Zehowah with much calmness.
The Sultan stared at her in astonishment.
'Has this stranger enchanted your imagination?' he
inquired by way of answer.
'No,' replied Zehowah scornfully. 'I have seen the
noblest, the most beautiful and the richest of the earth,
ready to take me to wife, and I have not loved. Shall
I love an outcast?'
'Then how can you ask my wishes?'
'Because there are good reasons why I should marry
this man.'
'Good reasons? In the name of Allah let me hear
them, if there are any.'
'You are old, my father,' said Zehowah, 'and it has
not pleased heaven to send you a son, nor to leave you
any living relation to sit upon the throne when your
years are accomplished. You must needs think of your
successor.'
'The better reason for choosing some powerful prince,
whose territory shall increase the kingdom he inherits
from me, and whose alliance shall strengthen the
empire I leave behind me.'[32]
'Istaghfir Allah! The worse reason. For such a
prince would be attached to his own country, and would
take me thither with him and would neglect the
kingdom of Nejed, regarding it as a land of strangers
whom he may oppress with taxes to increase his own
splendour. And this is not unreasonable, since no king
can wisely govern two kingdoms separated from each
other by more than three days' journey. No man can
have other than the one of two reasons for asking me in
marriage. Either he has heard of me and desires to
possess me, or he wishes to increase his dominions by
the inheritance which will be mine.'
'Doubtless, this is the truth,' said the Sultan. 'But
so much the more does this stranger in all probability
covet my kingdom, since he has nothing of his own.'
'This is what I mean. For, having no other possessions
to distract his attention, he will remain always
here, and will govern your kingdom for its own
advantage in order that it may profit himself.'
'This is a subtle argument, my daughter, and one
requiring consideration.'
'The more so because the man seems otherwise well
fitted to be my husband, since he is a true believer, and
young, and fearless and outspoken.'
'But if this is all,' objected the Sultan, 'there are
in Nejed several young men, sons of my chief courtiers,
who possess the same qualifications. Choose one of them.'[33]
'On the contrary, to choose one of them would arouse
the jealousy of all the rest, with their families and
slaves and freedmen, whereby the kingdom would easily
be exposed to civil war. But if I take a stranger it is
more probable that all will be for him, since you are
beloved, and there is no reason why one party should
oppose him and another support him, since none of them
know anything of him.'
'But he will not be beloved by the people unless
he is liberal, and he has nothing wherewith to be
generous.'
'And where are the treasures of Riad?' laughed
Zehowah. 'Is it not easy for you to go secretly to his
chamber and to give him as much gold as he needs?'
'That is also true. I see that you have set your
heart upon him.'
'Not my heart, my father, but my head. For I have
infinitely more head than heart, and I see that the
welfare of the kingdom will be better secured with such
a ruler, than it would have been under a foreign prince
whose right hand would be perpetually thrust out to
take in Nejed that which his left hand would throw to
courtiers in his own country. Do I speak wisdom or
folly?'
'It is neither all folly nor all wisdom.'
'I have seen this man, I have heard him speak,' said
Zehowah. 'He is as well as another since I must[34]
marry sooner or later. Moreover I have another
argument.'
'What is that?'
'Either he is a man strong enough to rule me, or he
is not,' Zehowah answered with a laugh. 'If he can
govern me, he can govern the kingdom of Nejed. But
if not I will govern it for him, and rule him also.'
The Sultan looked up to heaven and slightly raised
his hands from his knees.
'Allah is merciful and forgiving!' he exclaimed.
'Is this the spirit befitting a wife?'
'Is it charity to cause happiness?'
'Undoubtedly it is charity.'
'And which is greater, the happiness of many or
the happiness of one?'
'The happiness of many is greater,' answered the
Sultan. 'What then?' he asked after a time, seeing
that she said nothing more.
'I have spoken,' she replied. 'It is best that I
should marry him.'
Then there was silence for a long time, during which
the Sultan sat quite motionless in his place, watching
his daughter, while she looked idly through the lattice
at the people who came and went in the court below.
She seemed to feel no emotion.
The Sultan did not know how to oppose Zehowah's
will any more than he could answer her arguments,[35]
although his worldly wisdom was altogether at variance
with her decision. For she was the beloved child of
his old age and he could refuse her nothing. Moreover,
in what she had said, there was much which
recommended itself to his judgment, though by no
means enough to persuade him. At last he rose from
the carpet and embraced her.
'If it is your will, let it be so,' he said.
'It is the will of Allah,' answered Zehowah. 'Let
it be accomplished immediately.'
With a sigh the Sultan withdrew and sent a messenger
to Khaled requesting him to come to another
and more secluded chamber, where they could be alone
and talk freely.
Khaled showed no surprise on hearing that his suit
was accepted, but he thought it fitting to express much
gratitude for the favourable decision. Then the Sultan,
who did not wish to seem too readily yielding, began to
explain to Khaled Zehowah's reasons for accepting a
poor stranger, presenting them as though they were his
own.
'For,' he said, 'whatever you may in reality be, you
have chosen to present yourself to us in such a manner
as would not have failed to bring about a refusal under
any other circumstances. But I have considered that
as it will be your destiny, if heaven grants you life, to
rule my kingdom after me, you will in all likelihood[36]
rule it more wisely and carefully, for having no other
cares in a distant country to distract your attention;
and because you have no relations you are the less
liable to the attacks of open or secret jealousy.'
The Sultan then gave him a large sum of money in
gold pieces, which Khaled gladly accepted, since he had
not even wherewithal to buy himself a garment for the
wedding feast, still less to distribute gifts to the courtiers
and to the multitude. The Sultan also presented
him with a black slave to attend to his personal wants.
Khaled then sent for merchants from the bazar,
and they brought him all manner of rich stuffs, such as
he needed. There came also two tailors, who sat down
upon a matting in his apartment and immediately
began to make him clothes, while the black slave sat
beside them and watched them, lest they should steal
any of the gold of the embroideries.
When it was known in the palace that the Sultan's
only daughter was to be married at once, there were
great rejoicings, and many camels were slaughtered and
a great number of sheep, to supply food for so great a
feast. A number of cooks were hired also to help those
who belonged to the palace, for although the Sultan fed
daily more than three hundred persons, guests, travellers,
and poor, besides all the members of the household, yet
this was as nothing compared with the multitude to be
provided for on the present occasion.[37]
Then it was that Hadji Mohammed, the chief of the
cooks, sat down upon the floor in the midst of the main
kitchen and beat his breast and wept. For the confusion
was great so that the voice of one man could not
be heard for the diabolical screaming of the many, and
the cooks smote the young lads who helped them, and
these, running to escape from the blows, fell against the
porters who came in from outside bearing sacks of
sugar, and great baskets of fruit and quarters of meat
and skins of water, and bushels of meal and a hundred
other things equally necessary to the cooking; and the
porters, staggering under their burdens, fell between the
legs of the mules loaded with firewood, that had been
brought to the gate, and the dumb beasts kicked violently
in all directions, while the slaves who drove them struck
them with their staves, and the mules began to run
among the camels, and the camels, being terrified, rose
from the ground and began to plunge and skip like
young foals, while more porters and more mules and
more slaves came on in multitudes to the door of the
kitchen. And it was very hot, for it was noontide, and
in summer, and there were flies without number, and
the dogs that had been sleeping in the shade sprang up
and barked loudly and bit whomsoever they could
reach, and all the men bellowed together, so that the
confusion was extreme.
'Verily,' cried Hadji Mohammed, 'this is not a[38]
kitchen but Yemamah, and I am not the chief of the
cooks, but the chief of sinners and fuel for hell.' So he
wept bitterly and beat his breast.
But at last matters mended, for there were many
who were willing to do well, so that when the time
came Hadji Mohammed was able to serve an honourable
feast to all, though the number of the guests was
not less than two thousand.
But Khaled, having visited the bath, arrayed himself
magnificently and rode upon his bay mare to the
mosque, surrounded by the courtiers and the chief
officers of the state, and by a great throng of slaves
from the palace. As he rode, he scattered gold pieces
among the people from the bags which he carried, and
all praised his liberality and swore by Allah that
Zehowah was taking a very goodly husband. And as
none knew whence he came, all were equally pleased,
but most of all the Bedouins from the desert, of whom
there were many at that time in Riad, who had come to
keep the feast Bairam, for Khaled's own words had been
repeated, and they had heard that he came from the
desert like themselves. And when he had finished his
prayers, he rode back to the palace.
When the time for the feast came the Sultan led
Khaled into the great hall and made him sit at his right
hand. The Sultan himself was magnificently dressed
and covered with priceless jewels, so that he shone like[39]
the sun among all the rest. Then he presented Khaled
to the assembly.
'This,' said he, 'is Khaled, my beloved son-in-law,
the husband of my only daughter, whom it has pleased
Allah to send me, as the stay of my old age and as the
successor to my kingdom. He will be terrible in war
as Khaled ibn Walid, his namesake, the Sword of the
Lord, and gentle and just in peace as Abu Bakr of
blessed memory. He is as brave as the lion, as strong
as the camel, as swift as the ostrich, as sagacious as the
fox and as generous as the pelican, who feeds her
young with the blood of her own breast. Love him
therefore, as you have loved me, for he is extremely
worthy of affection, and hate his enemies and be faithful
to him in the time of danger. By the blessing of Allah
he shall rear up children to me in my old age, to be
with you when he is gone.'
Thereupon Khaled turned and answered, speaking
modestly but with much dignity in his manner.
'Ye men of Nejed, this is my marriage feast and I
invite you all to be merry with me. Whether it shall
please Allah to give me a long life, or whether it shall
please him to take me this night I know not. We are
in the hand of Allah. But this I do know. I will love
you as my own people, seeing that I have no people of
my own. I will fight for you as a man fights for his
own soul, for his wife and for his children, and I will[40]
divide justly the spoils in war, and give in peace whatsoever
I am able, to all those who are in need. I swear
by Allah! You are all witnesses.'
The courtiers and all the guests were much pleased
with this short speech, for they saw that Khaled was a
man of few words and not proud or overbearing, and
none could look into his face and doubt his promise.
For the present moment at least Zehowah's prediction
had been verified, for no one was jealous of him, and
there was but one party among them all and that was
for him. So they all feasted together in harmony until
the sun was low.
In the meantime Zehowah remained in the harem,
surrounded by her women, and a separate meal was
brought to them. They all sat upon the rich carpets
leaning on cushions set against the walls, and small
low tables were brought in, covered with dishes and
bowls containing delicately prepared rice and mutton
in great abundance and fresh blanket bread, hot from
the stones, and olives brought from Syria. Afterwards
came sweetmeats without number, such as Hadji
Mohammed knew how to prepare, and gold and silver
goblets filled with a drink made from large sweet
lemons and water, which is called 'treng.' Zehowah
indeed ate sparingly, for she was accustomed to such
dainties every day, but her women were delighted with
the abundance and left nothing to be taken away.[41]
While they were eating six of the women played
upon musical instruments by turns, while others
danced slow and graceful measures, singing as they
moved, and describing the unspeakable happiness
which awaited their princess in marriage. Afterwards
when the tables had been taken away and they had
washed their hands with rose water from Ajjem, Zehowah
commanded the singing and the dancing to cease, and
the women brought her one by one the dresses which
she was to wear before Khaled. They were very magnificent,
for it had needed many years to prepare them,
and a great weight of gold and silver threads had been
weighed out to the tailors and embroiderers who had
worked in the preparation of them ever since Zehowah
had been two years old. For the piece of material is
weighed first, and then the gold, and afterwards, when
the work is finished, the whole is weighed together, lest
the tailors should steal anything.
But Zehowah looked coldly at the garments, one after
the other, as they were brought and taken away, and
the women fancied that she was to be married to the
stranger against her will, and that she remembered the
Indian prince.
'It is a pity,' one of them ventured to say, 'that the
bridegroom has not brought any elephants with him,
for we would have watched them from the balconies,
since they are diverting beasts.'[42]
'And it is a pity,' said Zehowah scornfully, 'that my
husband has not a round, soft face, like the moon in
May, and the eyes of a gazelle and the heart of a
hare. Truly, such a one would have made you a good
king, seeing that he was also an unbeliever!'
'Nay,' said the woman humbly, 'Allah forbid that I
should make a comparison, or bring an ill omen on the
day by speaking of that which chanced a year ago.
Truly, I only spoke of elephants, and not of men. For,
surely, we all said when we saw him in the court that
he looked a brave warrior and a goodly man.'
Then a messenger came from the Sultan saying that
it was time to make ready. So they went to another
apartment, where the nuptial chamber had been prepared.
The Sultan came, then, leading Khaled, and
followed by the Kadi, and all the women veiled themselves
while the latter read the declaration of marriage.
After that they all withdrew and Khaled took his seat
upon the high couch in the middle of the room. Presently
all the women returned, unveiled, with loud singing
and playing of instruments, leading Zehowah dressed
in the first of the dresses which she was to put on, and
which, though it was very splendid, was of course the
least magnificent of all those which had been prepared.
But Khaled sat in his place looking on quietly, for he
was acquainted with the custom, and he cared little for
the rich garments, but looked always into Zehowah's face.
[43]
CHAPTER III
Khaled sat with his sword upon his feet, and when
Zehowah was not in the room he played with the hilt and
thought of all that was happening.
'Truly,' he said to himself, 'Allah is great. Was I
not, but a few days since, one of the genii condemned
to perish at the day of the resurrection? And am I
not now a man, married to the most beautiful woman in
the whole world, and the wisest and the best, needing only
to be loved by her in order to obtain an undying soul?
And why should this woman not love me? Truly, we
shall see before long, when this mummery is finished.'
So he sat on the couch while Zehowah was led before
him again and again each time in clothing more splendid
than before, and each time with new songs and new
music. But at the last time the attendants left her
standing before him and went away, and only a very
old woman remained at the door, screaming out in a
cracked voice the customary exhortations. Then she,
too, went away and the door was shut and Khaled and
Zehowah were alone.[44]
It was now near the middle of the night. The
chamber was large and high, lighted by a number of
hanging lamps such as are made in Bagdad, of brass
perforated with beautiful designs and filled with coloured
glasses, in each of which a little wick floats upon oil.
Upon the walls rich carpets were hung, both Arabian
and Persian, some taken in war as booty, and some
brought by merchants in time of peace. A brass chafing
dish stood at some distance from the couch, and upon
the coals the women had thrown powdered myrrh and
benzoin before they went away. But Khaled cared
little for these things, since he had seen all the treasures
of the earth in their most secret depositories.
Zehowah had watched him narrowly during the ceremony
of the dresses and had seen that he felt no surprise
at anything which was brought before him.
'His own country must be full of great wealth and
magnificence,' she thought, 'since so much treasure does
not astonish him.' And she was disappointed.
Now that they were alone, he still sat in silence,
gazing at her as she stood beside him, and not even
thinking of any speech, for he was overcome and struck
dumb by her eyes.
'You are not pleased with what I have shown you,'
Zehowah said at last in a tone of displeasure and disappointment.
'And yet you have seen the wealth of
my father's palace.'[45]
'I have seen neither wealth nor treasure, neither
rich garments, nor precious stones nor chains of gold
nor embroideries of pearls,' Khaled answered slowly.
But Zehowah frowned and tapped the carpet impatiently
with her foot where she stood, for she was
annoyed, having expected him to praise the beauty of
her many dresses.
'They who have eyes can see,' she said. 'But if you are
not pleased, my father will give me a hundred dresses more
beautiful than these, and pearls and jewels without end.'
'I should not see them,' Khaled replied. 'I have
seen two jewels which have dazzled me so that I can
see nothing else.'
Zehowah gazed at him with a look of inquiry.
'I have seen the eyes of Zehowah,' he continued,
'which are as the stars Sirius and Aldebaran, when
they are over the desert in the nights of winter. What
jewels can you show me like these?'
Then Zehowah laughed softly and sat down beside
her husband on the edge of the couch.
'Nevertheless,' she said, 'the dresses are very rich.
You might admire them also.'
'I will look at them when you are not near me, for
then my sight will be restored for other things.'
Khaled took her hand in his and held it.
'Tell me, Zehowah, will you love me?' he asked in
a soft voice.[46]
'You are my lord and my master,' she answered,
looking modestly downward, and her hand lay quite
still.
She was so very beautiful that as Khaled sat beside
her and looked at her downcast face, and knew that she
was his, he could not easily believe that she was cold
and indifferent to him.
'By Allah!' he thought, 'can it be so hard to get a
woman's love? Truly, I think she begins to love me
already.'
Zehowah looked up and smiled carelessly as though
answering his question, but Khaled was obliged to
admit in his heart that the answer lacked clearness,
for he found it no easier to interpret a woman's smile
than men had found it before him, and have found it
since, even to this day.
'You have had many suitors,' he said at last, 'and it is
said that your father has given you your own free choice,
allowing you to see them and hear them speak while he
was receiving them. Tell me why you have chosen me
rather than the rest, unless it is because you love me?
For I came with empty hands, and without servants or
slaves, or retinue of any kind, riding alone out of the
Red Desert. It was therefore for myself that you took
me.'
'You are right. It was for yourself that I took you.'
'Then it was for love of me, was it not?'[47]
'There were and still are many and good reasons,'
answered Zehowah calmly, and at the same time withdrawing
her hand from his and smoothing back the
black hair from her forehead. 'I told them all to my
father, and he was convinced.'
'Tell them to me also,' said Khaled.
So she explained all to him in detail, making him
see everything as she saw it herself. And the explanation
was so very clear, that Khaled felt a cold chill in
his heart as he understood that she had chosen him
rather for politic reasons, than because she wished him
for her husband.
'And yet,' she added at the end, 'it was the will of
Allah, for otherwise I would not have chosen you.'
'But surely,' he said, somewhat encouraged by these
last words, 'there was some love in the choice, too.'
'How can I tell!' she exclaimed, with a little laugh.
'What is love?'
Finding himself confronted by such an amazing
question, Khaled was silent, and took her hand again.
For though many have asked what love is, no one
has ever been able to find an answer in words to
satisfy the questioner, seeing that the answer can have
no more to do with words than love itself, a matter
sufficiently explained by a certain wise man, who understood
the heart of man. If, said he, a man who loves a
woman, or a woman who loves a man could give in[48]
words the precise reason why he or she loves, then love
itself could be defined in language; but as no man or
woman has ever succeeded in doing this, I infer that
they who love best do not themselves know in what
love consists—still less therefore can any one else know,
wherefore the definition is impossible, and no one need
waste time in trying to find it.
A certain wit has also said that although it be impossible
for any man to explain the nature of love to
many persons at the same time, he generally finds it
easy to make his explanations to one person only. But
this is a mere quibbling jest and not deserving of any
attention.
Zehowah expected an answer to her question, and
Khaled was silent, not because he was as yet too little
acquainted with the feelings of a man to give them
expression, but because he already felt so much that it
was hard for him to speak at all.
Zehowah laughed and shook her head, for she was
not of a timid temper.
'How can you expect me to say that I love you,
when you yourself are unable to answer such a simple
question?' she asked. 'And besides, are you not my
lord and my master? What is it then to you, whether
I love you or not?'
But again Khaled was silent, debating whether he
should tell her the truth, how the angel had promised in[49]
Allah's name that if she loved him he should obtain an
undying soul, and how the task of obtaining her love
had been laid upon him as a sort of atonement for having
slain the Indian prince. But as he reflected he
understood that this would probably estrange her all
the more from him.
'Yet I can answer your question,' he said at last.
'What is love? It is that which is in me for you only.'
'But how am I to know what that is?' asked
Zehowah, drawing up the smooth gold bracelets upon
her arm and letting them fall down to her wrist, so that
they jangled like a camel's bell.
'If you love me you will know,' Khaled answered,
'for then, perhaps, you will feel a tenth part of what
I feel.'
'And why not all that you feel?' she asked, looking
at him, but still playing with the bracelets.
'Because it is impossible for any woman to love as
much as I love you, Zehowah.'
'You mean, perhaps, that a woman is too weak to
love so well,' she suggested. 'And you think, perhaps,
that we are weak because we sit all our lives upon the
carpets in the harem eating sweetmeats, and listening
to singing girls and to old women who tell us tales of
long ago. Yet there have been strong women too—as
strong as men. Kenda, who tore out the heart of Kamsa—was
she weak?'[50]
'Women are stronger to hate than to love,' said
Khaled.
'But a man can forget his hatred in the love of a
woman, and his strength also,' laughed Zehowah. 'I
would rather that you should not love me at all, than
that you should forget to be strong in the day of battle.
For I have married you that you may lead my people
to war and bring home the spoil.'
'And if I destroy all your enemies and the enemies
of your people, will you love me then, Zehowah?'
'Why should I love you then, more than now?
What has war to do with love? Again, I ask, what is
it to you whether I love you or not? Am I not your
wife, and are you not my master? What is this love
of which you talk? Is it a rich garment that you
can wear? A precious stone that you can fasten in
your turban? A rich carpet to spread in your house?
A treasure of gold, a mountain of ambergris, a bushel
of pearls from Oman? Why do you covet it? Am I
not beautiful enough? Then is love henna to make
my hair bright, or kohl to darken my eyes, or a boiled
egg with almonds to smooth my face? I have all these
things, and ointments from Egypt, and perfumes from
Syria, and if I am not beautiful enough to please you,
it is the will of Allah, and love will not make me
fairer.'
'Yet love is beauty,' Khaled answered. 'For Kadijah[51]
was lovely in the eyes of the Prophet, upon whom
be peace, because she loved him, though she was a
widow and old.'
'Am I a widow? Am I old?' asked Zehowah with
some indignation. 'Do I need the imaginary cosmetic
you call love to smooth my wrinkles, to lighten my eyes,
or to make my teeth white?'
'No. You need nothing to make you beautiful.'
'And for the matter of that, I can say it of you. You
tell me that you love me. Is it love that makes your
body tall and straight, your beard black, your forehead
smooth, your hand strong? Would not any woman
see what I see, whether you loved her or not? See!
Is your hand whiter than mine because you love and I
do not?'
She laughed again as she held her hand beside his.
'Truly,' thought Khaled, 'it is less easy than I supposed.
For the heart of a woman who does not love is
like the desert, when the wind blows over it, and there
are neither tracks nor landmarks. And I am wandering
in this desert like a man seeking lost camels.'
But he said nothing, for he was not yet skilled in
the arguments of love. Thereupon Zehowah smiled, and
resting her cheek upon her hand, looked into his face,
as though saying scornfully, 'Is it not all vanity and
folly?'
Khaled sighed, for he was disappointed, as a thirsty[52]
man who, coming to drink of a clear spring, finds
the water bitter, while his thirst increases and grows
unbearable.
'Why do you sigh?' Zehowah asked, after a little
silence. 'Are you weary? Are you tired with the
feasting? Are you full of bitterness, because I do not
love you? Command me and I will obey. Are you
not my lord to whom I am subject?'
He did not speak, but she drew him to her, so that
his head rested upon her bosom, and she began to sing
to him in a low voice.
For a long time Khaled kept his eyes shut, listening
to her voice. Then, on a sudden, he looked up, and
without speaking so much as a word, he clasped her in
his arms and kissed her.
Before it was day there was a great tumult in the
streets of Riad, of which the noise came up even to the
chamber where Khaled and Zehowah were sleeping.
Zehowah awoke and listened, wondering what had happened
and trying to understand the cries of the distant
multitude. Then she laid her hand upon Khaled's
forehead and waked him.
'What is it?' he asked.
'It is war,' she answered. 'The enemy have surprised
the city in the night of the feast. Arise and take
arms and go out to the people.'
Khaled sprang up and in a moment he was clothed[53]
and had girt on his sword. Then he took Zehowah in
his arms.
'While I live, you are safe,' he said.
'Am I afraid? Go quickly,' she answered.
At that time the Sultan of Nejed was at war with
the northern tribes of Shammar, and the enemy had
taken advantage of the month of Ramadhan, in which
few persons travel, to advance in great numbers to Riad.
During the three days' feast of Bairam they had moved
on every night, slaying the inhabitants of the villages
so that not one had escaped to bring the news, and in
the daytime they had hidden themselves wherever they
could find shelter. But in the night in which Khaled
and Zehowah were married they reached the very walls
of the city, and waiting until all the people were asleep,
a party of them had climbed up upon the ramparts and
had opened one of the gates to their companions after
killing the guards.
Khaled found his mare and mounted her without
saddle or bridle in his haste, then drawing his sabre
he rode swiftly out of the palace into the confusion.
The enemy with their long spears were driving the
panicstricken guards and the shrieking people before
them towards the palace, slaughtering all whom they
overtook, so that the gutters of the streets were already
flowing with blood, and the horses of the enemy
stumbled over the bodies of the defenders. The whole[54]
multitude of the pursued and the pursuers were just
breaking out of the principal street into the open space
before the palace when Khaled met them, a single man
facing ten thousand.
'I shall certainly perish in this fight,' he said to
himself, 'and yet I shall not receive the reward of the
faithful, since Allah has not given me a soul. Nevertheless
certain of these dogs shall eat dirt before the
rest get into the palace.'
So he pressed his legs to the bare sides of his mare
and lifted up his sword and rode at the foe, having
neither buckler, nor helmet, nor shirt of mail to protect
him, but only his clothes and his turban. But his arm
was strong, and it has been said by the wise that
it is better to fall upon an old lion with a reed than to
stand armed in the way of a man who seeks death.
'Yallah! The Sword of the Lord!' shouted Khaled, in
such a terrible voice that the assailants ceased to kill for
a moment, and the terrified guards turned to see whence
so great a voice could proceed; and some who had seen
Khaled recognised him and ran to meet him, and the
others followed.
When the enemy saw a single man riding towards
them across the great square before the palace, they
sent up a shout of derision, and turned again to the
slaughter of such of the inhabitants as could not extricate
themselves.[55]
'Shall one man stop an army?' they said. 'Shall a
fox turn back a herd of hyĉnas?'
But when Khaled was among them they found less
matter for laughter. For the sword was keen, the mare
was swift to double and turn, and Khaled's hand was
strong. In the twinkling of an eye two of the enemy
lay dead, the one cloven to the chin, the other headless.
Then a strange fever seized Khaled, such as he had
not heard of, and all things turned to scarlet before his
eyes, both the walls of the houses, and the faces and the
garments of his foes. Men who saw him say that his
face was white and shining in the dawn, and that the
flashing of the sword was like a storm of lightning about
his head, and after each flash there was a great rain of
blood, and a crashing like thunder as the horses and
men of the enemy fell to the earth.
In the meantime, too, the soldiers of the city and the
Bedouins of the desert who were within the walls for
the feast, took courage, and turning fiercely began to
drive the assailants back by the way they had come,
towards the market-place in the bazar. But those behind
still kept pressing forward, while those in front were
driven back, and the press became so great that the
Shammars could no longer wield their weapons. The
enemy were crowded together like sheep in a fold, and
Khaled, with his men, began to cut a broad road through
the very midst of them, hewing them down in ranks[56]
and throwing them aside, as corn is harvested in
Egypt.
But after some time Khaled saw that he was alone,
with a few followers, surrounded by a great throng of
the enemy, for some of his men had been slain after
slaying many of their foes, and some had not been able
to follow, being hindered at first by the heaps of dead
and afterwards by the multitude of their opponents who
closed in again over the bloody way through which
Khaled had passed.
And now the Shammars saw that Khaled could not
escape them, and they pressed him on every side, but
the archers dared not shoot at him for fear of hitting
their own friends, if their arrows chanced to go by the
mark. Otherwise he would undoubtedly have perished,
since he had no armour, and not even a buckler with
which to ward off the darts. But they thrust at him
with spears and struck at him with their swords, and
wounded him more than once, though he was not
conscious of pain or loss of blood, being hot with the
fever of the fight. He was hard pressed therefore, and
while he smote without ceasing he began to know that
unless a speedy rescue came to him, his hour was at
hand. From the borders of the market-place, the men
of Riad could still see his sword flashing and striking,
and they still heard his fierce cry.
He looked about him as he fought, and he saw that[57]
he was now almost alone. One after another, the few
who had penetrated so far forward with him into the
press, were overwhelmed by numbers and fell bleeding
from a hundred wounds till only a score were left, and
Khaled saw that unless he could now cut his way free,
he must inevitably perish. But the press was stubborn
and a man might as well hope to make his way through
a herd of camels crowded together in a narrow street.
Then Khaled bethought him of a stratagem. He alone
was on horseback, for the enemy's riders had ridden
before, and he had met them in the street leading to the
palace, when he had himself slain many, and where the
rest were even now falling under the swords of the men
of Riad. And the few men who were with him were
also all on foot. Therefore looking across the market-place
he made as though he saw a great force coming
to his assistance, and he shouted with all his breath,
while his arm never rested.
'Smite, men of Nejed!' he cried. 'For I see the
Sultan himself coming to meet us with five hundred horsemen!
Smite! Yallah! It is the Sword of the Lord!'
Hearing these words, his men were encouraged, and
of the enemy many turned their heads to see the new
danger. But being on foot they were hindered from
seeing by the throng. Yet so much the more Khaled
shouted that the Sultan was coming, and many of the
heads that turned to look were not turned back again,[58]
but rolled down to the feet of those to whom they had
belonged. The brave men who were with Khaled took
heart and hewed with all their might, taking up the cry
of their leader when they saw that it disconcerted their
foes, so that the last took fright, and the panic ran
through the whole multitude.
'We shall be slain like sheep, and taken like locusts
under a mantle, for we cannot move!' they cried, and
they began to press away out of the market-place, forcing
their comrades before them into the narrow streets.
But here many perished. For while every man in
Riad had taken his sword and had gone out of his house
to fight, the women had dragged up cauldrons of boiling
water, and also hand-mill stones, to the roofs, and they
scalded and crushed their retreating foes. Then too, as
the market-place was cleared, the soldiers came on from
the side of the palace, having slain all that stood in
their way and taken most of their horses alive, which
alone was a great booty, for there are not many horses
in Nejed besides those of the Sultan, though these are
the very best and fleetest in all Arabia. But the Shammars
of the north are great horse-breeders. So the
soldiers mounted and joined Khaled in the pursuit,
and a great slaughter followed in the streets, though
some of the enemy were able to escape to the gates, and
warn those of their fellows who were outside to flee to
the hills for safety, leaving much booty behind.[59]
At the time of the second call to prayer Khaled dismounted
from his mare in the market-place, and there
was not one of the enemy left alive within the walls.
Those who remember that day say that there were five
thousand dead in the streets in Riad.
Khaled made such ablution as he could, and having
prayed and given thanks to Allah, he went back on foot
to the palace, his bay mare following him, and thrusting
her nose into his hand as he walked. For she was little
hurt, and the blood that covered her shoulders and her
flanks was not her own. But Khaled had many wounds
on him, so that his companions wondered how he was
able to walk.
In the court of the palace the Sultan came to meet
him, and fell upon his neck and embraced him, for
many messengers had come, from time to time, telling
how the fight went, and of the great slaughter. And
Khaled smiled, for he thought that he should now win
the love of Zehowah.
'Said I not truly that he is as brave as the lion, and
as strong as the camel?' cried the Sultan, addressing
those who stood in the court. 'Has he not scattered our
enemies as the wind scatters the sand? Surely he is
well called by the name Khaled.'
'Forget not your own men,' Khaled answered, 'for
they have shared in the danger and have slain more
than I, and deserve the spoil. There was a score of[60]
stout fellows with me at the last in the market-place,
whose faces I should know again on a cloudy night.
They fought as well as I, and it was the will of Allah
that their enemies should broil everlastingly and drink
boiling water. Let them be rewarded.'
'They shall every one have a rich garment and a
sum of money, besides their share of the spoil. But as
for you, my beloved son, go in and rest, and bind up
your wounds, and afterwards there shall be feasting
and merriment until the night.'
'The enemy is not destroyed yet,' answered Khaled.
'Command rather that the army make ready for the
pursuit, and when I have washed I will arm myself
and we will ride out and pursue the dogs until not one
of them is left alive, and by the help of Allah we will
take all Shammar and lay it under tribute and bring
back the women captive. After that we shall feast
more safely, and sleep without fear of being waked by a
herd of hyĉnas in our streets.'
'Nay, but you must rest before going upon this
expedition,' objected the Sultan.
'The true believer will find rest in the grave, and
feasting in paradise,' answered Khaled.
'This is true. But even the camel must eat and drink
on the journey, or both he and his master will perish.'
'Let us then eat and drink quickly, that we may the
sooner go.'[61]
'As you will, let it be,' said the Sultan, with a sigh,
for he loved feasting and music, being now too old to
go out and fight himself as he had formerly done.
Thereupon Khaled went into the harem and returned
to Zehowah's apartment. As he went the women
gathered round him with cries of gladness and songs of
triumph, staunching the blood that flowed from his
wounds with their veils and garments as he walked.
And others ran before to prepare the bath and to tell
Zehowah of his coming.
When she saw him she ran forward and took him by
the hands and led him in, and herself she bathed his
wounds and bound them up with precious balsams of
great healing power, not suffering any of the women to
help her nor to touch him, but sending them away so
that she might be alone with Khaled.
'I have slain certain of your enemies, Zehowah,' he
said, at last, 'and I have driven out the rest from the
city.' As yet neither of them had spoken.
'Do you think that I have not heard what you have
done?' Zehowah asked. 'You have saved us all from
death and captivity. You are our father and our
mother. And now I will bring you food and drink
and afterwards you shall sleep.'
'So you are well pleased with the doings of the husband
you have married,' he said.
He was displeased, for he had supposed that she[62]
would love him for his deeds and for his wounds and
that she would speak differently. But though she
tended him and bound his wounds, and bathed his brow
with perfumed waters, and laid pillows under his head
and fanned him, as a slave might have done, he saw
that there was no warmth in her cheek, and that the
depths of her eyes were empty, and that her hands were
neither hot nor cold. By all these signs he knew that
she felt no love for him, so he spoke coldly to her.
'Is it for me to be pleased or displeased with the
deeds of my lord and master?' she asked. 'Nevertheless,
thousands are even now blessing your name and
returning thanks to Allah for having sent them a
preserver in the hour of danger. I am but one of
them.'
'I would rather see a faint light in your eyes, as of
a star rising in the desert than hear the blessings of all
the men of Nejed. I would rather that your hand were
cold when it touches mine, and your cheek hot when I
kiss it, than that your father should bestow upon me all
the treasures of Riad.'
'Is that love?' asked Zehowah with a laugh. 'A
cold hand, a hot cheek, a bright eye?'
Khaled was silent, for he saw that she understood
his words but not his meaning. It was now noon and
it was very hot, even in the inner shade of the harem,
and Khaled was glad to rest after the hard fighting,[63]
for his many slight wounds smarted with the healing
balsam, and his heart was heavy and discontented.
Then Zehowah called a slave woman to fan him with
a palm leaf, and presently she brought him meat and
rice and dates to eat, and cool drink in a golden cup,
and she sat at his feet while he refreshed himself.
'How many did you slay with your own hand?' she
asked at last, taking up the good sword which lay beside
him on the carpet.
[64]
CHAPTER IV
Khaled pondered deeply, being uncertain what to do,
and trying to find out some action which could win for
him what he wanted. Zehowah received no answer to
her question as to the number of enemies he had slain
and she did not ask again, for she thought that he was
weary and wished to rest in silence.
'What do you like best in the whole world?' he
asked after a long time, to see what she would say.
'I like you best,' she answered, smiling, while she
still played with his sword.
'That is very strange,' Khaled answered, musing.
But the colour rose darkly in his cheeks above his
beard, for he was pleased now as he had been displeased
before.
'Why is it strange?' asked Zehowah. 'Are you not
the palm tree in my plain, and a tower of refuge for my
people?'
'And will you dry up the well from which the tree
draws life, and take away the corner-stone of the tower's
foundation?'[65]
'You speak in fables,' said Zehowah, laughing.
'Yet you imagined the fable yourself, when you
likened me to a palm and to a tower. But I am no
lover of allegories. The sword is my argument, and my
wit is in my arm. The wall by the tree is the wall of
love, and the chief foundation of the tower is the love of
Zehowah. If you destroy that, the tree will wither and
the tower will fall.'
'Surely there was never such a man as you,' Zehowah
answered, half jesting but half in earnest. 'You
are as one who has bought a white mare; and though
she is fleet, and good to look at, and obedient to his
voice and knee, yet he is discontented because she
cannot speak to him, and he would fain have her black
instead of white, and if possible would teach her to sing
like a Persian nightingale.'
'Is it then not natural in a woman to love man?
Have you heard no tales of love from the story-tellers of
the harem?'
'I have heard many such tales, but none of them
were told of me,' Zehowah replied. 'Will you drink
again? Is the drink too sweet, or is it not cool?'
She had risen from her seat and held the golden cup,
bending down to him, so that her face was near his.
He laid his hand upon her shoulder.
'Hear me, Zehowah,' he said. 'I want but one thing
in the world, and it was for that I came out of the Red[66]
Desert to be your husband. And that thing I will
have, though the price be greater than rubies, or than
blood, or than life itself.'
'If it is mine, I freely give it to you. If it is not
mine, take it by force, or I will help you to take it by
a stratagem, if I can. Am I not your wife?'
She spoke thus, supposing from his face that he meant
some treasure that could be taken by strength or by
wile, for she could not believe a man could speak so
seriously of a mere thought such as love.
'Neither my right hand nor your wit can give me
this, but only your heart, Zehowah,' he answered, still
holding her and looking at her.
But now she did not laugh, for she saw that he was
greatly in earnest.
'You are still talking of love,' she said. 'And you
are not jesting. I do not know what to answer you.
Gladly will I say, I love you. Is that all? What is it
else? Are those the words?'
'I care little for the words. But I will have the
reality, though it cost your life and mine.'
'My life? Will you take my life, for the sake of a
thought?'
'A thought!' he exclaimed. 'Do you call love a
thought? I had not believed a woman could be so
cold as that.'
'If not a thought, what then? I have spoken the[67]
truth. If it were a treasure, or anything that can be
taken, you could take it, and I could help you. But if
the possibility of possessing it lie not in deeds, it lies
in thoughts, and is itself a thought. If you can teach
me, I will think what you will; but if you cannot teach
me, who shall? And how will it profit you to take my
life or your own?'
'Is it possible that love is only a thought?' asked
Khaled, speaking rather to himself than to her.
'It must be,' she answered. 'The body is what it is
in the eyes of others, but the soul is what it thinks
itself to be, happy or unhappy, loving or not loving.'
'You are too subtle for me, Zehowah,' Khaled said.
'Yet I know that this is not all true.'
For he knew that he possessed no soul, and yet he
loved her. Moreover he could think himself happy or
unhappy.
'You are too subtle,' he repeated. 'I will take my
sword again and I will go out and fight, and pursue the
enemy and waste their country, for it is not so hard to
cut through steel as to touch the heart of a woman who
does not love, and it is easier to tear down towers and
strongholds of stone with the naked hands than to build
a temple upon the moving sand of an empty heart.'
Khaled would have risen at once, but Zehowah took
his hand and entreated him to stay with her.
'Will you go out in the heat of the day, wounded[68]
and wearied?' she asked. 'Surely you will take a
fever and die before you have followed the Shammars
so far as two days' journey.'
'My wounds are slight, and I am not weary,' Khaled
answered. 'When the smith has heated the iron in
the forge, does he wait until it is cold before striking?'
'But think also of the soldiers, who have striven
hard, and cannot thus go out upon a great expedition
without preparation as well as rest.'
'I will take those whom I can find. And if they
will go with me, it is well. But if not, I will go alone,
and they and the rest will follow after.'
'It is summer, too,' said Zehowah, keeping him back.
'Is this a time to go out into the northern desert?
Both men and beasts will perish by the way.'
'Has not Allah bound every man's fate about his
neck? And can a man cast it from him?'
'I know not otherwise, but if heat and hunger and
thirst do not kill the men, they will certainly destroy
the beasts, whose names are not recorded by Asrael, and
who have no destiny of their own.'
'You hinder me,' said Khaled. 'And yet you do
not know how many of the Shammar may be yet lurking
within a day's march of the city, slaying your
people, burning their houses and destroying their harvest.
Let me go. Will you love me better if I stay?'
'You will be the better able to get the victory.'[69]
'Will you love me better if I stay?'
'If you go now, you may fail in your purpose and
perish as well. How could I love you at all then?'
'It is the victory you love then—not me?'
'Could I love defeat? Nay, do not be angry with
me. Stay here at least until the evening. Think of
the burning sun and the raging thirst and the smarting
of your wounds which have only been dressed this first
time. Think of the soldiers, too——'
'They can bear what I can bear. Was it not summer-time
when the Prophet went out against the Romans?'
'I do not know. Stay with me, Khaled.'
'I will come back when I have destroyed the
Shammars.'
'And if the soldiers will not go with you, will you
indeed go out alone?'
'Yes. I will go alone. When they see that they
will follow me. They are not foxes. They are brave
men.'
Khaled rose and girt his sword about him. Zehowah
helped him, seeing that she could not persuade him to
stay.
'Farewell,' he said, shortly, and without so much as
touching her hand he turned and went out. She followed
him to the door of the room and stood watching as he
went away.
'One of us two was to rule,' she said to herself, 'and[70]
it is he, for I cannot move him. But what is this talk
of love? Does he need love, who is himself the master?'
She sighed and went back to the carpet on which
they had been sitting. Then she called in her women
and bid them tell her all they had heard about the fight
in the morning; and they, thinking to please her, extolled
the deeds of Khaled and of the tens he had slain
they made hundreds, and of the thousands of the
enemy's army, they made tens of thousands, till the
walls of Riad could not have contained the hosts of
which they spoke, and the dry sand of the desert could
not have drunk all the blood which had been shed.
Meanwhile Khaled went into the outer court of
the palace, where many soldiers were congregated together
in the shade of the high wall, eating camel's
meat and blanket bread and drinking the water from the
well. They were all able-bodied and unhurt, for those
who had been wounded were at their houses, tended by
their wives.
'Men of Riad!' cried Khaled, standing before them.
'We have fought a good fight this morning and the
power of our foes is broken. But all are not yet destroyed,
and it may be that there are many thousands
still lurking within a day's march of the city, slaying
the people, burning their houses and destroying their
harvests. Let us go out and kill them all before they
are able to go back to their own country. Afterwards[71]
we will pursue those who are already escaping, and we
will lay all the tribes of Shammar under tribute and
bring back the women captive.'
Thereupon a division arose among the soldiers.
Some were for going at once with Khaled, but others
said it was the hot season and no time for war.
'It is indeed summer,' said Khaled. 'But if the
Shammars were able to come to Riad in the heat, the
men of Riad are able to go to them. And I at least
will go at once, and those who wish to share the spoil
will go with me, but those who are satisfied to sit in
the shade and eat camel's meat will stay behind. In
an hour's time I will ride out of the northern gate.'
So saying, Khaled rode slowly down into the city
towards the market-place. The people were carrying
away their own dead, and dragging off the bodies of
their enemies, with camels, by fours and fives tied together
to bury them in a great ditch without the walls.
When Khaled appeared, many of the men gathered
round him, with cries of joy, for they had supposed that
some of his wounds were dangerous and that they should
not see him for many days.
'Wallah! He is with us again!' they shouted, jostling
each other to get near, and standing on tiptoe to see
the good mare that had carried him so well in the fight.
'Masallah! I am with you,' answered Khaled, 'and
if you will go with me we will send many more of the[72]
Shammars to eat thorns and thistles, as many as dwell
in Kasim and Tabal Shammar as far as Haïl; and by
the help of Allah we will take the city of Haïl itself
and divide the spoil and bring away the women captive;
and when we have taken all that there is we will lay
the land under tribute and make it subject to Nejed.
So let those who will go with me arm themselves and
take every man his horse or his camel, and dates and
barley and water-skins, and in an hour's time we will
ride out. For Allah will certainly give us the victory.'
'Let us bury the dead to-day and to-morrow we will
go,' said many of those nearest to him.
'Are there no old men and boys in Riad to bind the
sheaves you have mown?' asked Khaled. 'And are
there no women to mourn over the dead of your kindred
who have fallen in a good fight? And as for to-morrow,
it is yet in Allah's hand. But to-day we have already
with us. However, if you will not go with me, I will
go alone.'
The men were pleased with Khaled's speech, and
indeed the greater part of the dead were buried by this
time, for all the people had made haste to the work,
fearing lest the bodies should bring a pestilence among
them, since it was summer-time and very hot. Then
all those who were unhurt and could bear arms, went
and washed themselves, and took their weapons and
food, as Khaled had directed them. Before the call to[73]
afternoon prayers the whole host went out of the
northern gate.
Then Khaled accomplished all that he had spoken
of, and much more, for he drove the scattered force of
the enemy before him, overtaking all at last and slaying
all whom he overtook as far as Zulfah which is by the
narrow end of the Nefud. Here he rested a short time,
and then quickly crossing the sand, he entered the
country called Kasim which is subject to the Shammars.
Here he was told by a woman who had been taken
that the Shammars were coming with a new army
against him out of Haïl. He therefore hid his host in a
pass of the hills just above the plain, and sent down a
few Bedouins to encamp at the foot of the mountains,
bidding them call themselves Shammars and make a
show of being friendly to the enemy. So when the
army of the Shammars reached the foot of the hills,
they saw the tents and only one or two camels, and
Khaled's Bedouins came out and welcomed them, and
told them that Khaled was still crossing the Nefud, and
that if they made haste through the hills they might
come upon him unawares and at an advantage as he
began to ascend. Thereupon the enemy rejoiced and
entered the pass in haste, after filling their water-skins.
When they were in the midst of the hills, Khaled
and his army sprang up from the ambush and fell upon
them, and utterly destroyed them, taking all their[74]
horses and camels and arms; after which he went down
into the plain and laid waste the country about Haïl.
He took the city as the Shammars had taken Riad.
For he himself got upon the wall at night, with the
strongest and the bravest of his followers, and slew the
guards and opened the gate just before the dawn. But
there was no Khaled in Haïl to rally the soldiers and
give them heart to turn and make a stand in the streets.
Khaled then entered the palace and took the Sultan
of Shammar alive, not suffering him to be hurt, for he
wished to bring him to Riad. This Sultan was a man of
middle age, having only one eye, and also otherwise ill-favoured,
besides being cowardly and fat. So Khaled
ordered that he should be put into a litter, and the
litter into a cage, and the cage slung between two
camels. But he commanded that the women of the
harem should be well treated and brought before him,
that he might see them, intending to bring back the
most beautiful of them as presents to his father-in-law.
'Surely,' said the men who were with him, 'you will
keep the fairest for yourself.'
But Khaled turned angrily upon them.
'Have I not lately married the most beautiful woman
in the world?' he asked. 'I tell you it is for her sake
that I have destroyed the Shammars. But the Sultan
shall have the best of these women, and afterwards the
rest of them will be divided amongst you by lot.'[75]
When the women heard that they were to be distributed
among the men of Nejed they at first made a
pretence of howling and beating their breasts, but they
rejoiced secretly and soon began to laugh and talk
among themselves, pointing out to each other the
strongest and most richly dressed of Khaled's
followers, as though choosing husbands among them.
But one of them neither wept nor spoke to her companions,
but stood silently watching Khaled, and when
he sat down upon a carpet in the chief kahwah of the
house, she brought him drink in a goblet set with pearls
from Katar, and sat down at his feet as though she had
been his wife. But he took little heed of her at first,
for he was busy with grave matters.
The other women, seeing what she did, thought that
she was acting wisely in the hope of gaining Khaled's
favour, seeing that he was the chief of their enemies, so
they, too, came near, and brought water for his hands,
and perfumes, and sweetmeats, thinking to outdo her.
But she pushed them away, taking what they brought
for him, and offering it herself.
'Are you better than we?' the women said angrily.
'Has our lord chosen you for himself, that you will not
let us come near him?'
Then Khaled noticed her and began to wonder at
her attention and zeal.
'What is your name?' he asked. But she did[76]
not speak. 'Who is she?' he inquired of the other
women.
'She is an unbeliever,' they answered contemptuously.
'And she is proud, for she trusts in her white skin and
her blue eyes, and her hair which is red without henna.
She thinks she is better than we. Command us to
uncover our faces, that you may see and judge
between us.'
'Let it be so. Let us see who is the fairest,' said
Khaled, and he laughed.
Then the woman who sat at his feet threw aside her
veil, and all the others did the same. Khaled saw that
the one was certainly more beautiful than the rest, for
her skin was as white as milk, and her eyes like the sea
of Oman when it is blue in winter. She had also long
hair, plaited in three tresses which came down to her
feet, red as the locusts when the sun shines upon them
at evening, and not dyed.
'There is a bay mare in a stable of black ones,'
Khaled said. 'What is the name of the bay mare?'
'Her name is Aziz, and she is a Christian,' said one
of the women.
'Not Aziz—Almasta,' said the beautiful woman in
an accent which showed that she could not speak Arabic
fluently. 'Almasta, a Christian.'
'She was lately sent as a present to our master by
the Emir of Basrah,' said one of the others.[77]
'He paid a thousand and five hundred sequins for her,
for she was brought from Georgia,' said another. 'But
I am a free woman, and myself the daughter of an emir.'
Then all the others began to scream.
'It is a lie,' they cried. 'Your father was a white
slave from Syria.'
'You are fools,' retorted the woman who had spoken.
'You should have said that you were also free women
and the daughters of emirs. So our lord would have
treated you with more consideration.'
The others saw their folly and were silent and drew
back, but Khaled only smiled.
'As good mares are bred in the stable as in the
desert,' he said, and the women laughed with him at the
jest, for they saw that it pleased him.
But Almasta was silent and sat at his feet, looking
into his face.
'You must learn to talk in Arabic,' he said, 'and then
you will be able to tell stories of your native country
to the Sultan, for he loves tales of travel.'
Almasta smiled and bent her head a little, but she
did not understand all he said, being but lately come
into Arabia.
'I will go with you,' she answered.
'Yes. You will go with me to Riad to the Sultan,
and perhaps he will make you his wife, for he has none
at present.'[78]
'I will go with you,' she repeated, looking at him.
'She does not understand you,' said the women,
laughing at her ignorance of their own tongue.
'It is no matter,' said Khaled. 'She will learn in
due time. Perhaps it has pleased Allah to send my
lord the Sultan a wife without a tongue for a blessing
in his old age.'
'I will go with you,' Almasta said again.
'She can say nothing else,' jeered the women.
One of them pulled her by her upper garment, so
that she looked round.
'Can you say this, "My father was a dog and the
son of dogs"?' asked the woman.
But Almasta pushed her angrily away, for she half
understood. Then the woman grew angry too, and
shook her fist in Almasta's face.
'If you fight, you shall eat sticks,' said Khaled, and
then they were all quiet.
Thus he took possession of the city of Haïl and remaining
there some time he reduced all the country to submission,
so that it remained a part of the kingdom of Nejed for
many years after that. For the power of the Shammars
was broken, and they could nowhere have mustered a
thousand men able to bear arms. Khaled set a governor
in the place of the Sultan and ordered all the laws of
the country in the same manner as those of Nejed, and
after he had been absent from Riad nearly two months,[79]
he set aside a part of his force to remain behind and
keep the peace in case there should be an outbreak,
and with the rest he began to journey homeward, taking
a great spoil and many captives with him.
During the march most of the women captives rode
on camels, but a few of the most beautiful were taken
in litters lest the fatigues of riding should injure their
appearance and thus diminish their value. Almasta
was one of these, and the Sultan of Haïl was taken in a
cage as has been said, though he was not otherwise ill-treated,
and received his portion of camel's meat and
bread, equal to that of the soldiers.
Khaled sent messengers on fleet mares to Riad to
give warning of his coming, but he could not himself
proceed very quickly, because his army was burdened
with so much spoil; and as there was now no haste to
overtake an enemy he journeyed chiefly at night, resting
during the day wherever there was water, for although
the summer was far advanced it was still hot. He
thought continually of Zehowah, by day in his tent and
by night on the march, for he supposed that she would
be glad when she heard of the victory and that she
would now love him, because he had avenged her people,
and taken Haïl, and brought back gold and captives,
besides other treasures.
'She was already pleased with my deeds, before we
left Riad,' he thought, 'for she asked me how many of[80]
the Shammars I had slain with my own hand, and at
the last she wished me to stay with her, most probably
that I might tell her more about the fight. How much
the more will she be glad now, since I have killed so
many more and have brought back treasure, and made
a whole country subject to her father. Shall not blood
and gold buy the love of a woman?'
It chanced once during this journey that Khaled
was sitting at the door of his tent after the sun had
gone down and before the night march had begun.
Upon the one side, at a little distance, was the tent of
the women captives who had been taken from the palace
in Haïl, and upon the other the soldiers had set down
the cage in which the Sultan of Shammar was carried.
The men had laid a carpet over the cage to keep the
sun from the prisoner during the heat of the day, lest
he should not reach Riad alive as Khaled desired. For
the Sultan was fat and of a choleric temper. Now the
soldiers had given him food but had forgotten to bring
him water, and it was hot under the carpet now that
the evening had come. But he could lift it up a little
on one side, and having done so, he began to cry out,
cursing Khaled and railing at him, not knowing that he
was so near at hand.
'Oh you whose portion it shall be to broil everlastingly,
and to eat thistles and thorns, and to lie
bound in red-hot chains as I lie in this cage! Have[81]
you brought me out into the desert to die of thirst like
a lame camel? Surely your entertainment on the day
of judgment shall be boiling water and the fruit of
Al Zakkam, and whenever you try to get out of hell
you shall be dragged back again and beaten with iron
clubs, and your skin shall dissolve, and the boiling
water shall be poured upon your head!'
In this way the captive cried out, for he was very
thirsty. But when Khaled saw that no one gave him
water he called in the darkness to the women who sat
by their tent.
'Fetch water and give the man to drink,' he said.
One of the women rose quickly and filled a jar at the
well close by, and took it to the cage. But then the
railing and cursing broke out afresh, so that Khaled
wondered what had happened.
'Who has sent me this unbelieving woman to
torture me with thirst?' cried the prisoner. 'Are you
not Aziz whom I was about to take for my fourth wife
on account of your red hair? But your hair shall be a
perpetual flame hereafter, burning the bones of your
head, and your flesh shall be white with heat as iron in
a forge. If I were still in my kingdom you should eat
many sticks! If Allah delivers me from my enemies
I will cause your skin to be embroidered with gold for
a trapping to my horse!'
The moon rose at this time, being a little past the[82]
full, and Khaled looked towards the cage and saw that
the woman was standing two paces away from the
Sultan's outstretched hand. She dabbled in the cool
water with her fingers so that a plashing sound was
heard, and then drank herself, and scattered afterwards
a few drops in the face of the thirsty captive.
'It is good water,' she said. 'It is cold.'
Khaled knew from her broken speech that it was
Almasta, and he understood that she was torturing the
prisoner with the sound and sight of the water, and
with her words. So he rose from his place and went
to the cage.
'Did I not tell you to give him drink?' he asked,
standing before the woman.
'Oh my lord, be merciful,' cried the captive, when he
saw that Khaled himself was there. 'Be merciful and
let me drink, for your heart is easily moved to pity,
and by an act of charity you shall hereafter sit in the
shade of the tree Sedrat and drink for ever of the wine
of paradise.'
'I do not desire wine,' said Khaled. 'But you shall
certainly not thirst. Give him the jar,' he said to
Almasta. But she shook her head.
'He is bad and ugly,' she said. 'If he does not
drink, he will die.'
Then Khaled put out his hand to take the jar of
water, but Almasta threw it violently to the ground,[83]
and it broke to pieces. Thereupon the captive began
again to rail and curse at Almasta and to implore
Khaled with many blessings.
'You shall drink, for I will bring water myself,' said
Khaled. He went back to his tent and took his own
jar to the well, and filled it carefully.
When he turned he saw that Almasta was running
from his tent towards the cage, with a drawn sword in
her hand. He then ran also, and being very swift of
foot, he overtook her just as she thrust at the Sultan
through the bars. But the sword caught in the folds of
the soft carpet, and Khaled took it from her hand, and
thrust her down so that she fell upon her knees. Then
he gave the prisoner the jar with the water that
remained in it, for some had been spilt as he ran.
'Who has given you the right to kill my captives?'
he asked of Almasta.
'Kill me, then!' she cried.
'Indeed, if you were not so valuable, I would cut off
your head,' Khaled answered. 'Why do you wish me
to kill you?'
'I hate him,' she said, pointing to the captive who
was drinking like a thirsty camel.
'That is no reason why I should kill you. Go back
to the tents.'
But Almasta laid her hand on the sword he held
and tried to bring it to her own throat.[84]
'This is a strange woman,' said Khaled. 'Why do
you wish to die? You shall go to Riad and be the
Sultan's wife.'
'No, no!' she cried. 'Kill me! Not him, not
him!'
'Of whom do you speak?'
'Him!' she answered, again pointing to the prisoner.
'Is he not the Sultan?'
Khaled laughed aloud, for he saw that she had
supposed she was to be taken to Riad to be made the
wife of the Sultan of Shammar. Indeed, the other
women had told her so, to anger her.
'Not this man,' he said, endeavouring to make her
understand. 'There is another Sultan at Riad. The
Sultan of Shammar is one, the Sultan of Nejed another.'
'You?' she asked, suddenly springing up. 'With
you?'
The moon was bright and Khaled saw that her eyes
gleamed like stars and her face grew warm, and when
she took his hands her own were cold.
'No, not I,' he answered. 'I am not the Sultan.'
But her face became grey in the moonlight, and she
covered her head with her veil and went slowly back to
her tent.
'This woman loves me,' Khaled thought. 'And as
I have not talked much with her, it must be because I
am strong and have conquered the people among whom[85]
she was captive. How much the more then, will
Zehowah love me, for the same reason.'
So he was light of heart, and soon afterwards he
commanded everything to be made ready and mounted
his bay mare for the night march.
[86]
CHAPTER V
When Khaled was within half a day's march of Riad,
the Sultan came out to meet him with a great train of
attendants and courtiers, with cooks bringing food and
sweetmeats, and a number of musicians. And they all
encamped together for a short time in the shade of the
trees, for there were gardens in the place. The Sultan
embraced Khaled and put upon him a very magnificent
garment, after which they sat down together in a large
tent which the Sultan had brought with him. When
they had eaten and refreshed themselves they began to
talk, and Khaled told his father-in-law all that he had
done, and gave him an account of the spoils which he
had brought back, commanding the most valuable
objects to be brought into the tent. After this the
Sultan desired to see the women captives.
'There is one especially whom it may please you to
take for yourself,' said Khaled, and he ordered Almasta
to be brought in.
When the male slaves had left the tent, Almasta
drew aside her veil. The Sultan looked at her[87]
and smiled, stroking his beard, for he was much
pleased.
'Her face is like a pearl and her hair is a setting of
red gold,' he said. 'Truly she is like the sunrise on a
fair morning when there are red clouds in the east.'
Almasta looked attentively at him, and afterwards she
glanced at Khaled, who could not avoid looking at her
on account of her beauty. Her face was grave and
indifferent. Then Khaled told the Sultan how she had
hated the Sultan of Shammar and had tried to kill him
on the journey.
'This is a dangerous woman, my son,' said the old
man. But he laughed as he said it, for although he
was old, he was no coward. 'She is dangerous, indeed.
Will you love me, pearl of my soul's treasures?' he
inquired of her, still smiling.
'You are my lord and my master,' she answered,
looking down.
When Khaled heard this he wondered whether his
father-in-law would get any affection from her. Zehowah
had answered in the same words.
'By Allah, I will give you such gifts as will make
you love me,' said the Sultan. 'What shall I give
you?'
'His head,' answered Almasta, raising her eyes
quickly.
'The head of the Sultan of Shammar?'[88]
Almasta nodded, and Khaled could see that her lips
trembled.
'A dead man has no companions,' said the Sultan,
looking at Khaled to see what he would do. But
Khaled cared little, and said nothing.
So the Sultan called a slave and ordered the captive's
head to be struck off immediately. Then Almasta
threw herself upon the carpet on the floor of the tent
and embraced his feet.
'See how easily the love of a woman is got,' Khaled
thought, 'even by an old man whose beard is grey and
his limbs heavy.'
When Almasta rose again, she looked at Khaled
triumphantly, as though to remind him of the night on
the journey when he had hindered her from killing the
captive in his cage. But though he understood her, he
held his peace, for he had cared nothing whether the
prisoner lived or died after he had delivered him over to
his father-in-law, and he was considering whether he
might not please Zehowah in some similar manner. This
was not easy, however, for he was not aware that Zehowah
had any private enemy, whose head he might offer her.
After the Sultan had seen the other women and the
best of the spoils, Khaled begged that he might be
allowed to ride on into Riad alone, for he saw that the
Sultan intended to spend the night in feasting where he
had encamped. The Sultan was so much pleased with[89]
Almasta and so greatly diverted in examining the rich
stuffs and the gold and silver vessels and jewels, that he
let Khaled go, almost without trying to detain him,
though he made him many speeches praising his conduct
of the war, and would have loaded him with gifts.
But Khaled would take nothing with him, saying that he
would only receive his just share with the rest; and the
fame of his generosity immediately went abroad among
the soldiers and the Bedouins throughout all the camp.
'For,' said Khaled, 'there is not a fleeter mare than
mine among all those we have taken; my sword proves
to be a good one, for I have tried it well; as for women,
I am satisfied with one wife; and besides a wife, a
sword and a horse, there are no treasures in the world
which I covet.'
So Khaled rode away alone into Riad, for he desired
no company, being busy with his own thoughts. He
reached the gates at nightfall and went immediately to
the palace and entered Zehowah's apartments. He
found her sitting among her women in her accustomed
place, listening to the tales of an old woman who
sat in the midst of the circle. As soon as Zehowah saw
her husband she sprang up gladly to meet him, as a
friend would have done.
'Though it is summer-time, I have pursued the enemy,'
said Khaled. 'And though the sun was hot, I have got
the victory and brought home the spoil.'[90]
He said this remembering how she had tried to
hinder him from going. Then he gave her his sword
and he sat down with her, while the women brought
food and drink, for he was weary, and hungry and
thirsty. The women also brought their musical instruments
and began to sing songs in praise of Khaled's
deeds; but after a time he sent them all away and remained
alone with Zehowah.
'O Zehowah,' he said, 'you are my law and my rule.
You are my speech and my occupation. You are my
Kebla to which I turn in prayer. For the love of you
I have got the victory over many foes. And yet I see
that your cheek is cold and the light of your eyes is
undisturbed. Have you no other enemies for me to
destroy, or have you no secret foe whose head would be
a pleasant gift?'
Zehowah laughed, as she fanned him with a palm leaf.
'Do you still thirst for war, Khaled?' she asked.
'Truly you have swallowed up all our enemies as the
dry sand swallows up water. Where shall I find
enemies enough for you to slay? You went out in
pride and you have returned in glory. Are you not yet
satisfied? And as for any secret foe, if I have any I
do not know him. Rest, therefore; eat and drink and
spend your days in peace.'
'I care little for either food or drink,' Khaled answered,
'and I need little rest.'[91]
'Will nothing but war please you? Must you overcome
Egypt and make Syria pay tribute as far as
Damascus before you will rest?'
'I will conquer the whole world for you, if you wish
it,' said Khaled.
'What should I do with the world?' asked Zehowah.
'Have I not treasures and garments enough and to spare,
besides the spoil you have now brought home? And
besides, if you would conquer the world you must needs
make war upon true believers, amongst whom we do
not count the people of Shammar. Be satisfied therefore
and rest in peace.'
'How shall I be satisfied until I have kindled the
light in Zehowah's eyes at my coming, and until I feel
that her hand is cold and trembles when I take it in
mine?'
'Do I say to my eyes, "be dull"—or to my hand, "do
not tremble"?' Zehowah asked. 'Is this, which you
ask of me, something I can command at will, as I
can a smile or a word? If it is, teach me and I will
learn. But if not, why do you expect of me what I
cannot do? Can a camel gallop like a horse, or a horse
trot like a camel, or bear great burdens through the
desert? Have you come back from a great war only
to talk of this something which you call love, which is
yours and not mine, which you feel and I cannot feel,
which you cannot explain nor describe, and which, after[92]
all, is but a whim of the fancy, as one man loves sour
drink and another sweet?'
'Do you think that love is nothing but a whim of
the fancy?' asked Khaled bitterly.
'What else can it be? Would you love me if you
were blind?'
'Yes.'
'And if you were deaf?'
'Yes.'
'And if you could not touch my face with your
hands, nor kiss me with your lips?'
'Yes.'
Zehowah laughed.
'Then love is indeed a fancy. For if you could not
see me, nor touch me, nor hear me, what would remain
to you but an empty thought?'
'Have I seen you, or touched you, or heard your
voice for these two months and a half?' asked Khaled.
'Yet I have loved you as much during all that time.'
'You mean that you have thought of me, as I have
thought of you, by the memory of what was not fancy,
but reality. Would you dispute with me, Khaled?
You will find me subtle.'
'There is more wit in my arm than in my head,'
Khaled answered, 'and it is not easy for a man to
persuade a woman.'
'It is very easy, provided that the man have reason[93]
on his side. But where are the treasures you have
brought back, the slaves and the rich spoils? I would
gladly see some of them, for the messengers you sent
told great tales of the riches of Haïl.'
'To-morrow they will be brought into the city.
Your father has remained feasting in the gardens
towards Dereyiyah, and the whole army with him. I
rode hither alone.'
'Why did you not remain too?'
'Because that whim of the fancy which I call love
brought me back,' Khaled answered.
'Then I am glad you love me,' said Zehowah. 'For
I am glad you came quickly.'
'Are you truly glad?'
'I was very tired of my women,' she answered. 'I
am sorry you have brought nothing with you. Are
there any among the captives who are beautiful?'
'There is one, a present sent lately to the Sultan of
Shammar. She is very beautiful, and unlike all the
rest. Your father is much pleased with her, and will
perhaps marry her.'
'Of what kind is her beauty?' asked Zehowah.
'She is as white as milk, her eyes are twin sapphires,
her mouth is a rose, her hair is like gold reddened in
fire.'
Zehowah was silent for a while, and twisted a string
of musk-beads round her fingers.[94]
'The others are all Arabian women,' Khaled said at
last.
'Why did you not keep the beautiful one for yourself?'
asked Zehowah, suddenly throwing aside her
beads and looking at him curiously. 'Surely you, who
have borne the brunt of the war, might have chosen for
yourself what pleased you best.'
Khaled looked at her in great astonishment.
'Have I not married Zehowah? Would you have
me take another wife?'
'Why not? Is it not lawful for a man to take
four wives at one time? And this woman might have
loved you, as you desire to be loved.'
'Would it be nothing to you, if I took her?'
'Nothing. I am the King's daughter. I shall
always be first in the house. I say, she might love you.
Then you would be satisfied.'
'Zehowah, Zehowah!' cried Khaled. 'Is love a
piece of gold, that it matters not whence it be, so long
as a man has it in his own possession? Or is it wood
of the 'Ood tree that one may buy it and bring it home
and make the whole house fragrant with it? Is a
man's heart like his belly, which is alike satisfied with
different kinds of food?'
'He who eats, knows by the taste whether he eats
Persian mutton, or barley bread, or only broiled locusts.
But a man who believes that he is loved, knows that he[95]
is loved, so far as knowing is possible, and must be
satisfied, if to be loved is what he desires.'
'That may be true. But he who desires bread is not
satisfied with locusts. It is your love which I would
have. Not the love of another.'
'You are like a man who hopes to get by argument
a sum of money from one who has nothing,' said
Zehowah, smiling at him. 'Can you make gold grow
in the purse of a beggar? Or can you cause a ghada
bush to bear dates by reasoning with it? Your heart is
a palm tree, but mine is a ghada bush.'
'Yet an angel may touch the ghada and it will bear
fruit,' answered Khaled, for he remembered how the
angel had turned dry leaves into rich garments for him
to wear.
'Doubtless, Allah can do all things. But where is
the angel? Hear me, Khaled, for I speak very reasonably,
as a wife should speak to her husband, who is her lord
and master. My lord is not satisfied with me and
desires something of me which is not mine to give.
Let him take another wife beside me. I have given
my lord a kingdom and great riches and power.
Let him take another wife now, who will give him
this fancy of his thoughts for which he yearns, though
she have no other possessions. In this way my lord will
be satisfied.'
Khaled listened sadly to what Zehowah said, and he[96]
began to despair, for he was not subtle in argument nor
eloquent in speech. The reason of this was plain. In
the days when he had been one of the genii he had
wandered over the whole earth and had heard the
eloquence of all nations and the arguments of all
philosophers, learning therefrom that deeds are no part
of words, and that they who would be believed must
speak little and do much. But the genii possess no
insight into the hearts of women.
Khaled reflected also that the length of life granted
him was uncertain, and that he had already spent two
months and a half at a distance from Zehowah in
accomplishing the conquest whereby he had hoped to
win her love. But since this had utterly failed, he cast
about in his mind for some new deed to do, which could
be done without leaving her even for a short time.
But he was troubled by her indifference, and most of
all by her proposing that he should take another wife.
As he thought of this, he was filled with horror, and he
understood that he loved Zehowah more than he had
supposed, since he could not bear to think of setting
another woman beside her.
Then his face became very dark and his eyes were
like camp fires far off in the desert, and he took
Zehowah's wrist in his hand, holding it tightly as
though he would not let it go. As his heart grew hot
in his breast, words came to his lips unawares like the[97]
speech of a man in a dream, and he heard his own voice
as it were from a distance.
'I will not take another,' he said. 'What is the love
of any other woman to me? It is as dust in the throat
of a man thirsting for water. Show me a woman who
loves me. Her face shall be but a cold mirror in which
the image of a fire is reflected without warmth, her soft
words shall be to me as the screaming of a parrot, her
touch a thorn and her lips ashes. What is it to me if
all the women of the world love me? Kindle a fire and
burn them before me, for I care not. Let them perish
all together, for I shall not know that they are gone. I
love you and not another. Shall it profit a man to fill
his mouth with dust, though it be the dust of gold
mingled with precious stones, when he desires water?
Or shall he be warmed in winter by the reflection of a
fire in a mirror? By Allah! I want neither the wealth
of Haïl, nor a wife with red hair. Let them take
gold who do not ask for love. I want but one thing,
and Zehowah alone can give it to me. Wallah! My
heart burns. But I would give it to be burned for ever
in hell if I might get your love now. This I ask. This
only I desire. For this I will suffer and for this I am
ready to die before my time.'
Zehowah was silent, looking at him with wonder, and
yet not altogether pleased. She saw that she could not
understand him, though she did as well as she could.[98]
'Has he not all that the heart of man can desire?'
she thought. 'Am I not young and beautiful, and
possessed of many jewels and treasures? Have I not
given him wealth and power, and has he not with his
own hand got the victory over his enemies and mine?
And yet he is not satisfied. Surely, he is too hard to
please.'
But he, reading her thoughts from her face, continued
in his speech.
'What is all the happiness of the world without
love?' he asked. 'It is like a banquet in which many
rich viands are served, but the guests cannot eat them
because there is no salt in any of them. And what is
a beautiful woman without love? She is like a garden
in which there are all kinds of rare flowers, and much
grass, and deep shade, but in which a man cannot live,
because nothing grows there which he can eat when he
is hungry.'
'Truly,' said Zehowah, 'that is what you will make
of your life. For there is a garden called Irem, planted
in a secret place of the deserts about Aden, by Sheddad
the son of Ad, who desired to outdo the gardens of
paradise, and was destroyed for his impiety with all his
people, by the hand of Allah. But a certain man
named Abdullah ibn Kelabah was searching in the
desert for a lost camel, and came unawares upon this
place. There were fruits and water there and all that[99]
a man could wish for, and Abdullah dwelt in peace and
plenty, praising Allah. Then on a certain day he
desired to eat an onion, and finding none anywhere, he
went out, intending to obtain one, and having eaten it,
to return immediately. But though he searched the
desert many months he was never able to find the
garden again. Wherefore it is said that Abdullah ibn
Kelabah lost the earthly paradise of Irem for a mouthful
of onion.'
'How can you understand me if you do not love
me?' asked Khaled. 'Love has its own language, and
when two love they understand each the other's words.
But when the one loves and the other loves not, they
are strangers, though they be man and wife; or they are
like Persians and Arabians not understanding either the
other's speech, or that if the wife cries "father," her
husband will bring her a cup of water supposing her to
be thirsty. For those who would speak one language
must be of one heart, and they who would be of one
heart must love each other.'
Then Zehowah sighed and leaned against the cushions
by the wall and drew her hand away from Khaled.
'What is it?' she asked in a low voice. 'What is it
you would have?' But though she had already asked
the question many times she found no answer, and none
that he was able to give could enlighten her darkness.
'It is the spark that kindles the flame,' Khaled said,[100]
and he pointed to the lights that hung in the room.
'Your beauty is like that of a cunningly designed lamp,
inlaid with gold and silver and covered with rich ornament,
which is seen by day. But there is no light
within, and it is cold, though it be full of oil and the
wick be ready.'
Zehowah turned towards him somewhat impatiently.
'And you are as one who would kindle the flame
with words, having no torch,' she answered.
'Have I not done deeds also?' asked Khaled. 'Or
have I spoken much, that you should reproach me?
Surely I have slain more of your enemies than I have
spoken words to you to-night.'
'But have I asked for an offering of blood, or a
marriage dower of dead bodies?'
Khaled was silent, for he was bitterly disappointed,
and as his eyes fell upon the sword which hung on the
wall, he felt that he could almost have taken it and
made an end of Zehowah for very anger that she would
not love him. Had he not gone out for her into the
raging heat of summer, and borne the burden of a great
war, and destroyed a nation and taken a city? Moreover,
if neither words nor deeds could gain her love,
what means remained to him to try?
All through the night Khaled pondered, calling up
all that he had seen in the world in former times, until
he fell asleep at last, wearied in heart.[101]
Very early in the morning one of Zehowah's women
came and stood by his bed and waked him. He could
see that her face was pale in the dawn, her limbs
trembled and her voice was uncertain.
'Arise, my lord!' she said. 'A messenger has come
from the army with evil news, and stands waiting in the
court.'
Khaled sprang up, and Zehowah awoke also.
'What is this message?' he asked hastily.
But the woman threw herself upon the floor and
covered her face, as though begging forgiveness because
she brought evil tidings.
'Speak!' said Zehowah. 'What is it?'
'Our lord the Sultan is dead!' cried the woman, and
she broke out into weeping and crying and would say
nothing more.
But when Zehowah heard that her father was dead,
she sat down upon the floor and beat her breast and tore
her hair, and wailed and wept, while all the women of
the harem came and gathered round her and joined in
her mourning, so that the whole palace was filled with
the noise of their lamentations.
Khaled went out into the court and questioned the
messenger, who told him that the Sultan had held a
great feast in the evening in the gardens of Dereyiyah,
having with him the woman Almasta and the other
captive women, and being served by black slaves. But,[102]
suddenly, in the night, when most of the soldiers were
already asleep, there had been a great cry, and the
slaves and women had come running from the tent,
crying that the Sultan was dead. This was true, and
the Jewish physician who had gone out with his master
declared that he had died from an access of humours to
the head, brought on by a surfeit of sweetmeats, there
being at the time an evil conjunction of Zoharah and Al
Marech in square aspect to the moon and in the house
of death.
Khaled therefore mounted his bay mare and rode
quickly out to Dereyiyah, where he found that the news
was true, and the women were already preparing the
Sultan's body for burial. Having ordered the mourning,
and commanded the army to prepare for the return to the
city, Khaled set out with the funeral procession; and
when he reached the walls of Riad he turned to the left
and passed round to the north-east side of the city where
the burial-ground is situated. Here he laid the body
of his father-in-law in the tomb which the latter had
prepared for himself during his lifetime, and afterwards,
dismissing the mourners, he went back into the city
to the palace.
After the days of mourning were accomplished, the will
of the Sultan was made known, though indeed the people
were well acquainted with it already. By his will Khaled
succeeded to the sovereignty of the kingdom of Nejed[103]
and to all the riches and treasures which the Sultan
had accumulated during his lifetime. But the people
received the announcement with acclamations and much
joy, followed by a great feasting, for which innumerable
camels were slain. Khaled also called all the chief
officers and courtiers to a banquet and addressed them
in a few words, according to his manner.
'Men of Nejed,' he said, 'it has pleased Allah to
remove to the companionship of the faithful our master
the Sultan, my revered father-in-law, upon whom be
peace, and to set me up among you as King in his stead,
being the husband of his only daughter, which you all
know. As for the past, you know me; but if I have
wronged any man let him declare it and I will make
reparation. And if not, let none complain hereafter.
But as for the future I will be a just ruler so long as I
live, and will lead the men of Nejed to war, when there
is war, and will divide the spoil fairly; and in peace I
will not oppress the people with taxes nor change the
just and good laws of the kingdom. And now the feast
is prepared. Sit down cheerfully, and may Allah give
us both the appetite to enjoy and the strength to digest
all the good things which shall be set before us.'
But Khaled himself ate sparingly, for his heart was
heavy, and when they had feasted and drunk treng juice
and heard music, he retired to the harem, where he
found Zehowah sitting with Almasta, the Georgian[104]
woman, there being no other women present in the
room. He was surprised when he saw Almasta, though
he knew that the captive women had been lodged in
the palace, the distribution of the spoil from the war
having been put off by the mourning for the Sultan.
When Almasta heard him enter, she looked up quickly
and a bright colour rose in her face, as when the juice
of a pomegranate is poured into milk, and disappeared
again as the false dawn before morning, leaving no trace.
Khaled sat down.
'Is not this the woman of whom you spoke?' Zehowah
asked. 'I knew her from the rest by her red
hair.'
'This is the woman. Your father would have taken
her for his wife. But Allah has disposed otherwise.'
'She is beautiful. She is worthy to be a king's wife,'
said Zehowah.
'The Sultan?' asked Almasta, for she hardly understood.
Her face turned as white as bone bleached by
the sun, and her fingers trembled, while her eyes were
cast down.
Zehowah looked at Khaled and laughed.
'See how she trembles and turns pale before you,'
she said. 'And a little while ago her face was red.
You have found a torch wherewith to kindle this lamp,
and a breath that can extinguish it.'
'I do not know,' Khaled answered. But he looked[105]
attentively at Almasta and remained silent for some
time. 'It is now necessary to divide the spoils of the
war,' he said at last, 'and to bestow such of these women
as you do not wish to keep upon the most deserving of
the officers.'
'My lord will surely take the fairest for himself,
since she loves him,' said Zehowah, again laughing, but
somewhat bitterly.
'May my tongue be cloven and my eyes be put out,
may my hands wither at the wrists and my feet fall
from my ankles, if I ever take any wife but you,' said
Khaled. 'Yallah! So be it.'
When Zehowah heard him say this, even while
Almasta's face was unveiled before him, she understood
that he was greatly in earnest.
'Let me keep her for my handmaid,' she said at
last.
'Is she mine that you need ask me? But it will be
wiser to give her to Abdul Kerim, the sheikh of the
horsemen. I have promised that the spoil should be
fairly divided, and though few have seen this woman
many have heard of her beauty. And besides, she
would weary you, for she cannot talk in Arabian, nor
does she seem quick to learn. Abdul Kerim has the
first right, since Allah has removed your father, upon
whom be peace.'
'Your words are my laws,' answered Zehowah[106]
obediently. 'And, indeed, it may be that you are right,
for I believe she can neither dance nor sing, nor play upon
any musical instrument. She would certainly weary
me after a time, as you say. Give her therefore to
Abdul Kerim for his share.'
They then made Almasta understand that she was to
be given to the sheikh of the horsemen; but when she
had understood she shook her head and smiled, though
at first she said nothing, so that Khaled and Zehowah
wondered whether she had comprehended what they
had told her.
'Do you understand what we have told you?' asked
Zehowah, who was diverted by her ignorance of the
Arabic language.
'I understand.'
'And are you not pleased that you are to be the wife
of Abdul Kerim, who is a rich man and still young?'
'I was to be the Sultan's wife,' said Almasta, with
difficulty, looking at Khaled. 'You told me so.'
'The Sultan is dead,' Khaled answered.
'Who is the Sultan now?' she asked.
'Khaled is the Sultan,' said Zehowah.
'You said that I should be the Sultan's wife,' Almasta
repeated.
'Doubtless, I said so,' Khaled replied. 'But Allah
has ordered it otherwise.'
Almasta again smiled and shook her head.
[107]
CHAPTER VI
On the following day Khaled made a division of the
spoils, and gave Almasta to Abdul Kerim, enjoining
upon him to marry her, since he had but two wives and
could do so lawfully. The sheikh of the horsemen was
glad, for he had heard much of Almasta's beauty, and
he loved fair women, being of a fierce temper and not
more than forty years old. So he called his friends to
the marriage feast that same day, and Zehowah sent
Almasta in a litter to his harem, giving her also numerous
rich garments by way of a dower, but which in fact
were due to Abdul Kerim as his share of the booty. So
the men feasted, with music, until the evening, when
the bridegroom retired to the harem and the Kadi came
and read the contract; after which Abdul Kerim sat
down while Almasta was brought before him in various
dresses, one after the other, as is customary.
When the women were all gone away, Abdul Kerim
began to talk to his wife, but she only laughed and said
the few words she knew, not knowing what he said,
and presently she began to sing to him in a low voice,[108]
in her own language. Her voice was very clear and
quite different from that of the Arabian women whom
Abdul had heard, and the tones vibrated with great
passion and sweetness, so that he was enchanted and
listened, as in a dream, while his head rested against
Almasta's knee. She continued to sing in such a
manner that his soul was transported with delight;
and at last, as the sound soothed him, he fell into a
gentle sleep.
Almasta, still singing softly, loosened his vest, touching
him so gently that he did not wake. She then drew
out of one of the three tresses of her hair a fine steel
needle, extremely long and sharp, having at one end a
small wooden ball for a handle, and while she sang, she
thrust it very quickly into his breast to its full length,
so that it pierced his heart and he died instantly. But
she continued to sing, lest any of the women should be
listening from a distance. Presently she withdrew the
needle so slowly that not a drop of blood followed it,
and having made it pass thrice through the carpet she
restored it to her hair, after which she fastened the dead
man's vest again, so that nothing was disarranged. She
sang on, after this for some time, and then after a short
silence she sprang up from the couch, uttering loud
screams and lamentations and beating her breast
violently.
The women of the harem came in quickly, and when[109]
they saw that their master was dead, they sat down
with Almasta and wept with her, for as he lay dead
there was no mark of any violence nor any sign whereby
it could be told that he had not died naturally.
When Khaled heard that Abdul Kerim was dead, he
was much grieved at heart, for the man had been brave
and had been often at his right hand in battle. But
the news being brought to him at dawn when he awoke,
he immediately sent the Jewish physician of the court
to ascertain if possible the cause of the sudden death.
The physician made careful examination of the body,
and having purified himself returned to Khaled to give
an account.
'I have executed my lord's orders with scrupulous
exactness,' he said, 'and I find that without doubt the
sheikh of the horsemen died suddenly by an access of
humours to the heart, the sun being at that time in the
Nadir, for he died about midnight, and being moreover
in evil conjunction with the Dragon's Tail in the Heart
of the Lion, and not yet far from the square aspect of
Al Marech which caused the death of his majesty the
late Sultan, upon whom be peace.'
But Khaled was thoughtful, for he reflected that this
was the second time that a man had died suddenly
when he was about to be Almasta's husband, and he
remembered, how she had attempted to kill the Sultan
of Haïl, and had ultimately brought about his death.[110]
'Have you examined the dead man as minutely as
you have observed the stars?' he inquired. 'Is there
no mark of violence upon him, nor of poison, nor of
strangling?'
'There is no mark. By Allah! I speak truth. My
lord may see for himself, for the man is not yet buried.'
'Am I a jackal, that I should sniff at dead bodies?'
asked Khaled. 'Go in peace.'
The physician withdrew, for he saw that Khaled
was displeased, and he was himself as much surprised
as any one by the death of Abdul Kerim, a man lean
and strong, not given to surfeiting and in the prime of
health.
'Min Allah!' he said as he departed. 'We are in the
hand of the Lord, who knoweth our rising up and our
lying down. It is possible that if I had seen this man
at the moment of death, or a little before, I might have
discovered the nature of his disease, for I could have
talked with him and questioned him.'
But Khaled went in and talked with Zehowah. She
was greatly astonished when she heard that Almasta's
husband was dead, but she was satisfied with the answer
of the Jewish physician, who enjoyed great reputation and
was believed to be at that time the wisest man in Arabia.
'Give her back to me, to be one of my women,' said
she. 'It is not written that she should marry a man of
Nejed, unless you will take her yourself.'[111]
But Khaled bent his brow angrily and his eyes
glowed like the coals of a camp fire which is almost
extinguished, when the night wind blows suddenly over
the ashes.
'I have spoken,' he said.
'And I have heard,' she answered. 'Let there be an
end. But give me this woman to divert me with her
broken speech.'
'I fear she will do you an injury of which you may
not live,' said Khaled.
'What injury can she do me?' asked Zehowah in
astonishment, not understanding him.
'She asked of your father the head of the Sultan of
Haïl, whom she hated. And your father gave it to her.'
'Peace be upon him!' exclaimed Zehowah piously.
'Upon him peace. And when he would have
married her, he died suddenly at the feasting. And
now this Abdul Kerim, who was to have been her husband,
is dead also, without sign, in the night, as a man
stung by a serpent in his sleep. These are strange
doings.'
'If you think she has done evil, let her be put to
death,' said Zehowah. 'But the physician found no
mark upon Abdul Kerim. By the hand of Allah he
was taken.'
'Doubtless his fate was about his neck. But it is
strange.'[112]
Zehowah looked at Khaled in silence, but presently
she smiled and laid her hand upon his.
'This woman loves you with her whole soul,' she
said. 'You think that she has slain Abdul Kerim by
secret arts, in the hope that she may marry you.'
'And your father also.'
Then they were both silent, and Zehowah covered
her face, since she could not prevent tears from falling
when she thought of her father, whom she had loved.
'If this be so,' she said after a long time, 'let the
woman die immediately.'
'It is necessary to be just,' Khaled answered. 'I
will put no one to death without witnesses, not even a
captive woman, who is certainly an unbeliever at heart.
Has any one seen her do these deeds, or does any one
know by what means a man may be slain in his sleep,
or at a feast, so that no mark is left upon his body?
At Dereyiyah your father was alone with her in the
inner part of the tent, and she was singing to him that
he might sleep. For I have made inquiry. And when
Abdul Kerim died he was also alone with her. I cannot
understand these things. But you are a woman and subtle.
It may be that you can see what is too dark for me.'
'It may be. Therefore give her back to me, and I
will lay a trap for her, so that she will betray herself if
she has really done evil. And when we have convicted
her by her own words she shall die.'[113]
'Are you not afraid, Zehowah?'
'Can I change my destiny? If my hour is come, I
shall die of a fever, or of a cold, whether she be with
me or not. But if my years are not full, she cannot
hurt me.'
'This is undoubtedly true,' answered Khaled, who
could find nothing to say. 'But I will first question
the woman myself.'
So he sent slaves with a litter to bring Almasta from
the house of mourning to the palace, and when she was
come he sent out all the other women and remained
alone with her and Zehowah, making her sit down
before him so that he could see her face. Her cheeks
were pale, for she had not slept, having been occupied
in weeping and lamentation during the whole night,
and her eyes moved restlessly as those of a person distracted
with grief.
Khaled then drew his sword and laid it across his
feet as he sat and looked fixedly at Almasta.
'If you do not speak the truth,' he said, 'I will cut
off your head with my own hand. Allah is witness.'
When Almasta saw the drawn sword, her face grew
whiter than before, and for some moments she seemed
not able to breathe. But suddenly she began to beat
her breast, and broke out into loud wailings, rocking herself
to and fro as she sat on the carpet.
'My husband is dead!' she cried. 'He was young;[114]
he was beautiful! He is dead! Wah! Wah! my
husband is dead! Kill me too!'
Khaled looked at Zehowah, but she said nothing,
though she watched Almasta attentively. Then Khaled
spoke to the woman again.
'Make an end of lamenting for the present,' he
said. 'It has pleased Allah to take your husband to
the fellowship of the faithful. Peace be upon him.
Tell us in what manner he died, and what words he
spoke when he felt his end approaching, for he was my
good friend and I wish to know all.'
Almasta either did not understand or made a pretence
of not understanding, but when she heard Khaled's
words she ceased from wailing and sobbed silently,
beating her breast from time to time.
'How did he die?' Khaled asked in a stern voice.
'He was asleep. He died,' replied Almasta in broken
tones.
'You will get no other answer,' said Zehowah. 'She
cannot speak our tongue.'
'Is there no woman among them all who can talk
this woman's language?' asked Khaled with impatience,
for he saw how useless it was to question her.
'There is no one. I have inquired. Leave her
with me, and if there is anything to be known, I will
try to find it out.'
So Khaled went away and Zehowah endeavoured to[115]
soothe Almasta and make her talk in her broken words.
But the woman made as though she would not be comforted,
and went and sat apart upon the stone floor where
there was no carpet, rocking to and fro, and wailing in
a low voice. Zehowah understood that whatever the
truth might be Almasta was determined to express her
sorrow in the customary way, and that it would be
better to leave her alone.
For seven days she sat thus apart, covering her head
and mourning, and refusing to speak with any one, so
that all the women supposed her to be indeed distracted
with grief at the death of Abdul Kerim. And each
day Khaled inquired of his wife whether she had yet
learned anything, and received the same answer. But
in the meantime he was occupied with his own thoughts,
as well as with the affairs of the kingdom, though the
latter were as nothing in his mind compared with the
workings of his heart when he thought of Zehowah.
It chanced one evening that Khaled was riding
among the gardens without the city, attended only by a
few horsemen, for he was simple in all his ways and
liked little to have a great throng of attendants about
him. So he rode alone, while the horsemen followed at
a distance.
'Was ever a man, or an angel, so placed in the world
as I am placed?' he thought. 'How much better would
it have been had I never seen Zehowah, and if I had[116]
never slain the Indian prince. For I should still have
been with my fellows, the genii, from whom I am now
cut off, and at least I should have lived until the day
of the resurrection. But now my horse may stumble
and fall, and my neck may be broken, and there is no
hereafter. Or I may die in my sleep, or be killed in
my sleep, and there will be no resurrection for me, nor
any more life, anywhere in earth or heaven. For
Zehowah will never love me. Was ever a man so
placed? And I am ashamed to complain to her any
more, for she is a good wife, obedient and careful of
my wants, and beautiful as the moon at the full, rising
amidst palm trees, besides being very wise and subtle.
How can I complain? Has she not given me herself,
whom I desired, and a great kingdom which, indeed, I did
not desire, but which no man can despise as a gift? Yet
I am burned up within, and my heart is melting as a piece
of frankincense laid upon coals in an empty chamber,
when no man cares for its sweet savour. Surely, I am
the most wretched of mankind. Oh, that the angel who
made garments for me of a ghada bush, and a bay mare
of a locust, would come down and lay his hand upon
Zehowah's breast and make a living heart of the stone
which Allah has set in its place!'
So he rode slowly on, reasoning as he had often
reasoned before, and reaching the same conclusion in
all his argument, which availed him nothing. But suddenly,[117]
as the sun went down, a new thought entered
his mind and gave him a little hope.
'The sun is gone down,' he said to himself. 'But
Allah has not destroyed the sun. It will rise in the
east to-morrow when the white cock crows in the first
heaven. Many things have being, which the sight of
man cannot see. It may be that although I see no
signs of love in the heaven of Zehowah's eyes, yet love
is already there and will before long rise as the sun and
illuminate my darkness. For I am not subtle as the
evil genii are, but I must see very clearly before I am
able to distinguish.'
He rode back into the city, planning how he might
surprise Zehowah and obtain from her unawares some
proof that she indeed loved him. To this end he
entered the palace by a secret gate, covering his garments
with his aba, and his head with the kefiyeh he
wore, in order to disguise himself from the slaves and
the soldiers whom he met on his way to the harem.
He passed on towards Zehowah's apartment by an unlighted
passage not generally used, and hid himself in
a niche of the wall close to the open door, from which
he could see all that happened, and hear what was said.
Zehowah was seated in her accustomed place and
Almasta was beside her. Khaled could watch their
faces by the light of the hanging lamps, as the two
women talked together.[118]
'You must put aside all mourning now,' Zehowah
was saying. 'For I will find another husband for you.'
'Another husband?' Almasta smiled and shook her
head.
'Yes, there are other goodly men in Riad, though
Abdul Kerim was of the goodliest, as all say who knew
him. He was the Sultan's friend, but he was more
soldier than courtier. He deserved a better death.'
'Abdul Kerim died in peace. He was asleep.'
Almasta smiled still, but more sadly, and her eyes were
cast down.
'He died in peace,' Zehowah repeated, watching her
narrowly. 'But it is better to die in battle by the
enemy's hand. Such a man, falling in the front of the
fight for the true faith, enters immediately into paradise,
to dwell for ever under the perpetual shade of the tree
Sedrat, and neither blackness nor shame shall cover his
face. There the rivers flow with milk and with clarified
honey, and he shall rest on a couch covered with thick
silk embroidered with gold, and shall possess seventy
beautiful virgins whose eyes are blacker than mine and
their skin whiter than yours, having colour like rubies
and pearls, and their voices like the song of nightingales
in Ajjem, of which travellers tell. These are the
rewards of the true believer as set forth in Al Koran by
our prophet, upon whom peace. A man slain in battle
for the faith enters directly into the possession of all[119]
this, but unbelievers shall be taken by the forelock and
the heels and cast into hell, to drink boiling molten
brass, as a thirsty camel drinks clear water.'
Almasta understood very little of what Zehowah
said, but she smiled, nevertheless, catching the meaning
of some of the words.
'The Sultan Khaled loves black eyes,' she said. 'He
will go to paradise.'
'Doubtless, he will quench his thirst in the incorruptible
milk of heavenly rivers,' Zehowah replied.
'He is the chief of the brave, the light of the faith and
the burning torch of righteousness. Otherwise Allah
would not have chosen him to rule. But I spoke of
Abdul Kerim.'
'He died in peace,' said Almasta the second time,
and again looking down.
'I do not know how he died,' Zehowah answered,
looking steadily at the woman's face. 'It was a great
misfortune for you. Do you understand? I am very
sorry for you. You would have been happy with Abdul
Kerim.'
'I mourn for him,' Almasta said, not raising her
eyes.
'It is natural and right. Doubtless you loved him
as soon as you saw him.'
Almasta glanced quickly at Zehowah, as though
suspecting a hidden meaning in the words, and for a[120]
moment each of the women looked into the other's eyes,
but Zehowah saw nothing. For a wise man has truly
said that one may see into the depths of black eyes as
into a deep well, but that blue eyes are like the sea of
Oman in winter, sparkling in the sun as a plain of blue
sand, but underneath more unfathomable than the
desert.
Almasta was too wise and deceitful to let the silence
last. So when she had looked at Zehowah and understood,
she smiled somewhat sorrowfully and spoke.
'I could have loved him,' she said. 'I desire no
husband now.'
'That is not true,' Zehowah answered quickly. 'You
wish to marry Khaled, and that is the reason why you
killed Abdul Kerim.'
Almasta started as a camel struck by a flight of
locusts.
'What is this lie?' she cried out with indignation.
'Who has told you this lie?' But her face was as grey
as a stone, and her lips trembled.
'You probably killed him by magic arts learned in
your own country,' said Zehowah quietly. 'Do not be
afraid. We are alone, and no one can hear us. Tell me
how you killed him. Truly it was very skilful of you,
since the physician, who is the wisest man in Arabia,
could not tell how it was done.'
But Almasta began to beat her breast and to make[121]
oaths and asseverations in her own language, which
Zehowah could not understand.
'If you will tell me how you did it, I will give you
a rich gift,' Zehowah continued.
But so much the more Almasta cried out, stretching
her hands upwards and speaking incomprehensible
words. So Zehowah waited until she became quiet
again.
'It may be that Khaled will marry you, if you will
tell me your secret,' Zehowah said, after a time.
Then Almasta's cheek burned and she bent down her
eyes.
'Will you tell me how to kill a man and leave no
trace?' asked Zehowah, still pressing her. 'Look at
this pearl. Is it not beautiful? See how well it looks
upon your hair. It is as the leaf of a white rose upon
a river of red gold. And on your neck—you cannot
see it yourself—it is like the full moon hanging upon a
milky cloud. Khaled would give you many pearls like
this, if he married you. Will you not tell me?'
'Whom do you wish to kill?' Almasta asked, very
suddenly. But Zehowah was unmoved.
'It may be that I have a private enemy,' she said.
'Perhaps there is one who disturbs me, against whom I
plot in the night, but can find no way of ridding myself
of him. A woman might give much to destroy such a
one.'[122]
'Khaled will kill your enemies. He loves you. He
will kill all whom you hate.'
'You make progress. You speak our language
better,' said Zehowah, laughing a little. 'You will
soon be able to tell the Sultan that you love him, as
well as I could myself.'
'But you do not love him,' Almasta answered boldly.
Zehowah bent her brows so that they met between
her eyes as the grip of a bow. Then Khaled's heart
leaped in his breast, for he saw that she was angry with
the woman, and he supposed it was because she secretly
loved him. But he held his breath lest even his breathing
should betray him.
'The portion of fools is fire,' said Zehowah, not
deigning to give any other answer. For she was a
king's daughter and Almasta a bought slave, though
Khaled had taken her in war.
'Be merciful!' exclaimed Almasta, in humble tones.
'I am your handmaid, and I speak Arabic badly.'
'You speak with exceeding clearness when it pleases
you.'
'Indeed I cannot talk in your language, for it is not
long since I came into Arabia.'
'We will have you taught, for we will give you a
husband who will teach you with sticks. There is a
certain hunchback, having one eye and marked with the
smallpox, whose fists are as the feet of an old camel.[123]
He will be a good husband for you and will teach you
the Arabic language, and your skin shall be dissolved
but your mind will be enlightened thereby.'
'Be merciful! I desire no husband.'
'It is good that a woman should marry, even though
the bridegroom be a hunchback. But if you will tell me
your secret I will give you a better husband and forgive
you.'
'There is no secret! I have killed no one!' cried
Almasta. 'Who has told you the lie?'
'And moreover,' continued Zehowah, not regarding
her protestations, 'there are other ways of learning
secrets, besides by kindness; such, for instance, as
sticks, and hot irons, and hunger and thirst in a prison
where there are reptiles and poisonous spiders, besides
many other things with which I have no doubt the
slaves of the palace are acquainted. It is better that
you should tell your secret and be happy.'
'There is no secret,' Almasta repeated, and she would
say nothing else, for she did not trust Zehowah and
feared a cruel death if she told the truth.
But Zehowah wearied of the contest at last, being by
no means sure that the woman had really done any
evil, and having no intention of using any violent means
such as she had suggested. For she was as just as she
was wise and would have no one suffer wrongly.
Khaled, indeed, cared little for the pain of others, having[124]
seen much blood shed in war, and would have
caused Almasta to be tortured if Zehowah had desired
it. But she did not, preferring to wait and see whether
she could not entrap the slave into a confession.
Khaled now came out of his hiding-place into the
room and advanced towards Zehowah, who remained
sitting upon the carpet, while Almasta rose and made
a respectful salutation. But neither of the women
knew that he had been hidden in the niche. Zehowah
did not seem surprised, but Almasta's face was white
and her eyes were cast down, though indeed Khaled
wished that it had been otherwise. He was encouraged,
however, by what he had seen, for Zehowah had certainly
been angry with Almasta on his account, and he dismissed
the latter that he might be alone with his wife.
'You are wise, Zehowah,' he said, 'and gifted with
much insight, but you will learn nothing from this
woman, though you talk with her a whole year. For
she suspects you and is guarded in her speech and
manner. I was standing by the doorway a long time.
You did not see me, but I heard all that you said.'
'Why did you hide yourself?' Zehowah asked, looking
at him curiously.
'In order to listen,' he answered. 'And I heard
something and saw something which pleased me. For
when she said that you did not love me, you were
angry.'[125]
'Did that please you? You are more easily pleased
than I had thought. Shall I bear such things from a
slave? How is it her business whether I love or not?'
'But you were angry,' Khaled repeated, vainly hoping
that she would say more, yet not wishing to press her
too far, lest she should say again that she did not love
him.
She, however, said nothing in reply, but busied herself
in taking his kefiyeh from his head and his sword
from his side that he might be at ease. He rested
against the cushions and drank of the cool drink she
offered him.
'This woman, Almasta, is exceedingly beautiful,' he
said at last. 'It would indeed be a pity that a slave of
such value should go into the possession of another so
that we could see her no more. It is best that you
should keep her with you.'
Zehowah laughed a little, as she sat down beside
him and began to play with her beads.
'This is what I have always said,' she answered.
'I will keep her with me.'
'It is better so,' said Khaled.
Then he remained silent in deep thought, having
devised a new plan for gaining what he most desired.
It seemed to him possible that Zehowah might be
moved by jealousy, if by nothing else; for although he
had sworn to her, and angrily, that he would never take[126]
Almasta for his wife, and though nothing could really
have prevailed upon him to make him do so, yet it
would be easy for him to talk to the woman and speak
to her of her beauty, and appear to take delight in her
singing, which was more melodious than that of a
Persian nightingale. Since she would be now permanently
established in his harem, nothing would be easier
than for him to spend many hours in the woman's
society. Being a simple-minded man the plan seemed
to him subtle, and he determined to put it into execution
without delay. He knew also that Almasta had
loved him since the first day when she had been
brought before him in the palace at Haïl, and this
would make it still more easy to rouse Zehowah's
jealousy.
Though she had herself advised him to marry
Almasta, he did not believe that she was greatly in
earnest, and he felt assured that if the possibility were
presented before her, in such a way as to appear
imminent, she would be deceived by the appearance.
'It is better that she should remain here,' he said
after a long time. 'For we cannot put her to death
without evidence of her guilt, and if we are obstinate in
wishing to give her a husband, we do not know how
many husbands she may destroy before she is satisfied.
She is beautiful, and will be an ornament in your
kahwah. Indeed I do not know why I sent her away[127]
just now, when I came in. Let us call her back, that
she may sing to us some of her own songs.'
Zehowah clapped her hands and Almasta immediately
returned, for she had indeed been waiting outside
the door, endeavouring to hear what was said, since she
suspected that Khaled would speak of her and ask
questions. She understood well enough, and often
much better than she was willing to show, though she
could as yet speak but few words of the Arabic language.
'Sit at my feet,' said Khaled, 'and sing to me the
songs of your own people.'
Almasta took a musical instrument from the wall
and sat down to sing. Her voice, indeed, was of enchanting
sweetness, but as for the words of her songs,
the seven wise men themselves could not have understood
a syllable of them, seeing that they were neither
Arabic nor Persian, nor even Greek. Nevertheless,
Khaled made a pretence of being much pleased, resting
his head against the cushions and closing his eyes as
though the sound soothed him. As for Zehowah, she
watched the woman with great curiosity, wondering
whether it were possible that a creature so fair as
Almasta could have done the evil deeds of which she
was suspected, and planning how she might surprise
her into a confession of guilt.
[128]
CHAPTER VII
Not many days passed after this, before the women of
the harem began to whisper among themselves in the
passages and outer chambers.
'See,' they said, 'how our master favours this
foreign woman, who is in all probability a devil from
the Persian mountains. Every day he will have her
to sing to him, and to bring him drink, and to sit at
his feet. And he has given her several bracelets of
gold and a large ruby. Surely it will be better for
us to flatter her and show her reverence, for if not she
will before long give us sticks to eat, and we shall
mourn our folly.'
So they began to exhibit great respect for Almasta,
giving her always the best seat amongst them and
setting aside for her the best portions of the mutton,
and the whitest of the rice, and the largest of the
sweetmeats and the mellowest of the old sugar dates,
so that Almasta fared sumptuously. But though she
understood the reason why the women treated her so
much more kindly than before, she was careful always[129]
to appear thankful and to speak softly to them, for
she feared Zehowah, to whom they might speak of her,
and who was very powerful with the Sultan. She
was indeed secretly transported with joy, for she loved
Khaled and she began to think that before long he
would marry her. This was her only motive, also,
for she was not otherwise ambitious, and though she
afterwards did many evil deeds, she did them all out
of love for him.
Though Khaled was by no means soft-hearted, he
could not but pity her sometimes, seeing how she was
deceived by his kindness, while he was only making a
pretence of preferring her in order to gain Zehowah's
love. Often he sat long with closed eyes while she
sang to him or played softly upon the barbat, and he
tried to fancy that the voice and the presence were
Zehowah's. But her strange language disturbed him,
for there were sounds in it like the hissing of serpents
and like choking, which caused him to start suddenly
just when her voice was sweetest. For the Georgian
tongue is barbarous and not like any human speech
under the sun, resembling by turns the inarticulate
warbling of birds, and the croaking of ravens, and the
noises made by an angry cat. Nevertheless, Khaled
always made a pretence of being pleased, though he
enjoined upon Almasta to learn to sing in Arabic.
'For Arabic,' he said to her, 'is the language of[130]
paradise, and is spoken by all beings among the
blessed, from Adam, our father, who waits for the
resurrection in the first heaven, to the birds that fly
among the branches of the tree Sedrat, near the throne
of Allah, singing perpetually the verses of Al Koran.
The black-eyed virgins reserved for the faithful, also
speak only in Arabic.'
'Shall I be of the Hur al Oyun of whom you
speak?' Almasta inquired.
'How is it possible that you should be of the black-eyed
ones, when your eyes are blue?' Khaled asked,
laughing. 'And besides, are you not an unbeliever?'
'I believe what you believe, and am learning your
language. There is no Allah beside Allah.'
'And Mohammed is Allah's prophet.'
'And Mohammed is Allah's prophet,' Almasta repeated
devoutly.
'Good. And the six articles of belief are also
necessary.'
'Teach me,' said Almasta, laying the barbat upon
the carpet and folding her hands.
'You must believe first in Allah, and secondly in
all the angels. Thirdly you must believe in Al
Koran, fourthly in the prophets of Allah, fifthly in
the resurrection of the dead and the last judgment,
and lastly that your destiny is about your neck so
that you cannot escape it.'[131]
'I believe in everything,' said Almasta, who understood
nothing of these sacred matters. 'Shall I now
be one of the Hur al Oyun?'
'But you have blue eyes.'
'When I know that I am dying, I will paint them
black,' said Almasta, laughing sweetly.
'The angels Monkar and Nakir will discover your
deception,' said Khaled. 'When you are dead and
buried, these two angels, who are black, will enter
your tomb. They are of extremely terrible appearance.
Then they will make you sit upright in the grave and
will examine you first as to your belief and then as
to your deeds. You will then not be able to tell lies.
If you truly believe and have done good, your soul
will then be breathed out of your lips and will float
in a state of rest over your grave until the last judgment.
But if not, the black angels will beat your
head with iron maces, and tear your soul from your
body with a torment greater than that caused by
tearing the flesh from the bones.'
'I believe in everything,' Almasta said again, supposing
that her assent would please him.
'You find it an easy matter to believe what I tell
you,' he said, for he could see that she would have
received any other faith as readily. 'But it is not
easy for a woman to enter paradise, and since it is
your destiny to have blue eyes, they will not become[132]
black. The Hur al Oyun, however, are not mortal
women and no mortal woman can ever be one of
them, since they are especially prepared for the faithful.
But a man's wives may enter paradise with him,
in a glorified beauty which may not be inferior to that
of the black-eyed ones. If, for instance, Abdul Kerim
had lived and been your husband, you might, by faith
and good works, have entered heaven with him as one
of his wives.'
Almasta looked long at Khaled, trying to see
whether he still suspected her, and indeed he found
it very hard to do so, for her look was clear and
innocent as that of a young dove that is fed by a
familiar hand.
'I would like to enter paradise with you,' said
Almasta, with an appearance of timidity. 'Is it not
possible?'
'It may be possible. But I doubt it,' Khaled
answered, with gravity.
In those days, while Khaled thus spent many
hours with Almasta, Zehowah often remained for a
long time in another part of the harem, either surrounded
by her women, or sitting alone upon the
balcony over the court, absorbed in watching the
people who came and went. The slaves were surprised
to see that Khaled seemed to prefer the society
of the Georgian to that of his wife, but they dared say[133]
nothing to Zehowah and contented themselves with
watching her face and endeavouring to find out
whether she were displeased at what was happening,
or really indifferent as she appeared to be.
Almasta herself was distrustful, supposing that
Khaled and Zehowah were in league together to entrap
her into a self-accusation, and though her heart was
transported with happiness while she was with Khaled,
yet she did not forget to be cautious whenever any
reference was made to Abdul Kerim's death. She
also took the long needle out of her hair and hid it
carefully in a corner, in a crevice between the pavement
and the wall, lest it should at any time fall from
its place and bring suspicion upon her.
Khaled watched Zehowah as narrowly as the women
did, to see whether any signs of jealousy showed themselves
in her face, and sometimes they talked together
of Almasta.
'It is strange,' said Khaled, 'that Allah, being all
powerful, should have provided matter for dissension
on earth by creating one woman more beautiful than
another, the one with blue eyes, the other with black,
the one with red hair and the other with hair needing
henna to brighten it. Are not all women the children
of one mother?'
'And are not all men her sons also?' asked
Zehowah. 'It is strange that Allah, being all powerful,[134]
should have provided matter for sorrow by creating
one man with a spirit easily satisfied, and the
other with a soul tormented by discontent.'
Khaled looked fixedly at his wife, and bent his
brows. But in secret he was glad, for he supposed
that she was beginning to be jealous. However, he
made a pretence of being displeased.
'Is man a rock that he should never change?' he
asked. 'Or has he but one eye with which to see
but one kind of beauty? Have I not two hands, two
feet, two ears, two nostrils and two eyes?'
'That is true,' Zehowah answered. 'But a man
has only one heart with which to love, one voice with
which to speak kind words, and one mouth with which
to kiss the woman he has chosen. And if a man had
two souls, they would rend him so that he would be mad.'
At this Khaled laughed a little and would gladly
have shown Zehowah that she was right. But he feared
to be treated with indifference, if he yielded to her
argument so soon, and he held his peace.
'Nevertheless,' Zehowah continued, after a time,
'you are right and so am I. You said, indeed, not
many days ago that your two hands should wither at
the wrists if you took another wife, yet I advised you
to do so; and now it is clear from what you say that
you wish to marry Almasta. I am your handmaiden.
Take her, therefore, and be contented, for she loves you.'[135]
But now Khaled was much disturbed as to what
he should answer, for he had hoped that Zehowah
would break out into jealous anger. He could not
accept her advice, because of his oath and still more
because of his love for her; yet he could not send
away Almasta, since by so doing he would be giving
over his last hope of obtaining Zehowah's love by
rousing her jealousy.
'Take her,' Zehowah repeated. 'The palace is
wide and spacious. There is room for us both, and
for two others also, if need be, according to divine law.
Take her, and let there be contentment. Have you
not said that she is more beautiful than I?'
'No,' answered Khaled, 'I have not said so.'
'You have thought it, which is much the same, for
you said that her hair was red but that mine needed
henna to brighten it. Marry her therefore, this very
day. Send for the Kadi, and order a feast, and let it
be done quickly.'
'Is it nothing to you, whether I take her or not?'
Khaled asked, seeking desperately for something to
say.
'Is it for me to set myself up against the holy
law? Or did any one exact from you a promise that
you would not take another wife? And if you rashly
promised anything of your own free will, the promise
is not binding seeing that there is no authority for[136]
it in Al Koran, and that no one desires you to keep
it—neither I, nor Almasta.'
Zehowah laughed at her own speech, and Khaled was
too much disturbed to notice that the laugh was rather
of scorn than of mirth.
'How shall I take a woman who is perhaps a
murderess?' he asked. 'Shall I take her who was
perhaps the cause of your revered father's death?
May Allah give him peace! Surely, the very thought
is terrible to me, and I will not do it.'
'Will you convict her without witnesses? And
where is your witness? Did not the physician
explain the reason of the death, and did he suspect
that there was anything unnatural about it? But
if you still think that she destroyed my father and
Abdul Kerim—peace on them both—why do you
make her sit all day long at your feet and sing to
you in her barbarous language, which resembles the
barking of jackals? And why do you command
her to bring you drink and fan you when it is
hot, and you sleep in the afternoon? This shows
a forgiving and trustful disposition.'
'This is an unanswerable argument,' thought Khaled,
being very much perplexed. 'Can I answer that I do
all this in order to see whether Zehowah is jealous?
She would certainly laugh to herself and say in her
heart that she has married a fool.'[137]
So he said nothing, but bent his brows again, and
endeavoured to seem angry. But Zehowah took no
notice of his face and continued to urge him to marry
Almasta.
'Have you ever seen such a woman?' she asked.
'Have you ever seen such eyes? Are they not like
twin heavens of a deep blue, each having a shining sun
in the midst? Is not her hair like seventy thousand
pieces of gold poured out upon the carpet from a
height? Her nose is a straight piece of pure ivory.
Her lips are redder than pomegranates when they are
ripe, and her cheeks are as smooth as silk. Moreover
she is as white as milk, freshly taken from the camel,
whereas my hands are of the colour of blanket-bread
before it is baked.'
'Your hands are much smaller than hers,' said
Khaled, who could not suffer Zehowah to discredit her
own beauty.
'I do not know,' she answered, looking at her
fingers. 'But they are less white. And Almasta
is far more beautiful than I. You yourself said so.'
'I never said so,' Khaled replied, more and more
perplexed. 'There are two kinds of beauty. That is
what I said. Allah has willed it. Almasta is a slave,
and her hands are large. It is a pity, for she is like a
mare that has many good points, but whose hoofs are
overgrown through too much idleness in the stable. I[138]
say that there are two kinds of beauty. Yours is that
of the free woman of a pure and beautiful race; hers
is that of the slave accidentally born beautiful.'
Zehowah gathered up her three long black tresses
and laid them across her knees as she sat. Then she
shook off her golden bracelets, one after the other, to the
number of a score and heaped them upon the hair.
'Which do you like best?' she asked. 'The black
or the gold? The day or the night? Here you see
them together and can judge fairly between them.'
Khaled sought for a crafty answer and made a pretence
of pondering the matter deeply.
'After the night,' he said at last, 'the day is very
bright and glorious. But when we have looked on it
long, only the night can bring rest and peace.'
He was pleased with himself when he had made
this answer, supposing that Zehowah would find
nothing to say. But he had only laid a new trap
for himself.
'That is quite true,' she answered, laughing. 'That
is also the reason why Allah made the day and the
night to follow each other in succession, lest men
should grow weary of eternal light or eternal darkness.
For the same reason also, since you have a
wife whose hair is black, I counsel you to take a
red-haired one. In this way you will obtain that
variety which the taste of man craves.'[139]
'If I follow your advice, you will regret it,' said
Khaled.
'You think I shall be jealous, but you are mistaken.
I am what I am. Can another woman make me more
or less beautiful? Moreover, I shall always be first in
the palace, though you take three other wives. The
others will rise up when you come in, but I shall remain
sitting. I shall always be the first wife.'
'Undoubtedly, that is your right,' Khaled replied.
'Do you suppose that I wish to put any woman in
your place?'
Then Zehowah laughed, and laid her hand upon
Khaled's arm.
'How foolish men are!' she exclaimed. 'Do you
think you can deceive me? Do you imagine, because
I have answered you and talked with you to-day, and
listened to your arguments, that I do not understand
your heart? Oh, Khaled, this is true which you often
say of yourself, that your wit is in your arm. If I
were a warrior and stood before you with a sword in
my hand, you could argue better, for you would cut off
my head, and the argument would end suddenly. But
Allah has not made you subtle, and words in your
mouth are of no more avail than a sword would be
in mine, for you entangle yourself in your own
language, as I should wound myself if I tried to
handle a weapon.'[140]
At this Khaled was much disconcerted, and he
stroked his beard thoughtfully, looking away so as not
to meet her eyes.
'I do not know what you mean,' he said, at last.
'You certainly imagine something which has no existence.'
'I imagine nothing, for I have seen the truth, ever
since the first day when you desired to be alone with
Almasta. You are only foolishly trying to make me
jealous of her, in order that I may love you better.'
When Khaled saw that she understood him, he was
without any defence, for he had built a wall of sand
for himself, like a child playing in the desert, which
the first breath of wind causes to crumble, and the
second blast leaves no trace of it behind.
'And am I foolish, because I have done this thing?'
he cried, not attempting to deny the truth. 'Am I a
fool because I desire your love? But it is folly to
speak of it, for you will reproach me and say that I
am discontented, and will offer me another woman for
my wife. Go. Leave me alone. If you do not love
me, the sight of you is as vinegar poured into a fresh
wound, and as salt rubbed into eyes that are sore with
the sand. Go. Why do you stay? Do you not believe
me? Do you wish me to kill you that I may
have peace from you? It is a pity that you did not
marry one of the hundred suitors who came before me,[141]
for you certainly loved one of them, since you cannot
love me. You doubtless loved the Indian prince.
Would you have him back? I can give you his
bones, for I slew him with my own hands and buried
him in the Red Desert, where his soul is sitting upon
a heap of sand, waiting for the day of resurrection.'
Then Zehowah was greatly astonished, for neither
she nor any one else had ever known what had been
the end of that suitor, and after waiting a long time,
his people who had been with him had departed
sorrowing to their own country, and she had heard
no more of them.
'What is this?' she asked in amazement. 'Why
did you kill him? And how could you have done
this thing unseen, since he was guarded by many
attendants?'
'I took him out of the palace in the night, when
all were asleep, and then I killed him,' said Khaled,
and Zehowah could get no other answer, for he would
not confess that he had been one of the genii, lest she
should not believe the truth, or else, believing, should
be afraid of him in the future.
'I will give you his bones,' he said, 'if you desire
them, for I know where they are, and you certainly
loved him, and are still mourning for him. If he
could be alive, I would kill him again.'
'I never loved him,' Zehowah answered, at last.[142]
'How was it possible? But I would perhaps have
married him, hoping to convert all his people to the
true faith.'
'As you have married me in the hope, or the
assurance, of giving your people a just king.'
'You are angry, Khaled. And, indeed, I could be
angry, too, but with myself and not with you, as you
are with me, though it be for the same reason. For I
begin to see and understand why you are discontented,
and indeed I will do what I can to satisfy
you.'
'You must love me, as I love you, if you would
save me from destruction,' said Khaled.
Though Zehowah could not comprehend the meaning
of the words, she saw by his face that he was
terribly moved, and she herself began to be more
sorry for him.
'Indeed, Khaled,' she said, 'I will try to love you
from this hour. But it is a hard thing, because you
cannot explain it, and it is not easy to learn what
cannot be explained. Do you think that all women
love their husbands in this way you mean? Am I
unlike all the rest?'
Khaled took her hand and held it, and looked into
her eyes.
'Love is the first mystery of the world,' he said.
'Death is the second. Between the two there is[143]
nothing but a weariness darkened with shadows and
thick with mists. What is gold? A cinder that
glows in the darkness for a moment and falls away to
a cold ash in our hand when we have taken it. But
love is a treasure which remains. What is renown?
A cry uttered in the bazar by men whose minds are
subject to change as their bodies are to death. But
the voice of love is heard in paradise, singing beside
the fountains Tasnim and Salsahil. What is power?
A net with which to draw wealth and fame from the
waters of life? To what end? We must die. Or
is power a sword to kill our enemies? If their time
is come they will die without the sword. Or is it a
stick to purify the hides of fools? The fool will die
also, like his master, and both will be forgotten. But
they who love shall enter the seventh heaven together,
according to the promise of Allah. Death is stronger
than man or woman, but love is stronger than death,
and all else is but a vision seen in the desert, having
no reality.'
'I will try to understand it, for I see that you are
very unhappy,' said Zehowah.
She was silent after this, for Khaled's words were
earnest and sank into her soul. Yet the more she
tried to imagine what the passion in him could be like,
the less she was able to understand it, for some of
Khaled's actions had been foolish, but she supposed[144]
that there must have been some wisdom in them,
having its foundation in the nature of love.
'What he says is true,' she thought. 'I married
him in order to give my people a just and brave king,
and he is both brave and just. And I am certainly a
good wife, for I should be dissolved in shame if
another man were to see my face, and moreover I am
careful of his wants, and I take his kefiyeh from his
head with my own hands, and smooth the cushions
for him and bring him food and drink when he desires
it. Or have I withheld from him any of the treasures
of the palace, or stood in the way of his taking another
wife? Until to-day, I thought indeed that this talk
of love meant but little, and that he spoke of it
because he desired an excuse for marrying Almasta
who loves him. But when I said at a venture that
he wished to make me jealous, he confessed the truth.
Now all the tales of love told by the old women are
of young persons who have seen each other from a
distance, but are hindered from marrying. And we
are already married. Surely, it is very hard to understand.'
After this Khaled never called Almasta to sit at
his feet and sing to him, as he had done before, and
Zehowah was constantly with him in her stead. At
first Almasta supposed that Khaled only made a pretence
of disregarding her, out of respect for his wife,[145]
but she soon perceived that he was indifferent and no
longer noticed her. She then grew fierce and jealous,
and her voice was not heard singing in the harem;
but she went and took her needle again from the
crevice in the pavement and hid it in her hair, and
though Zehowah often called her, when Khaled was
not in the house, she made as though she understood
even less of the Arabic language than before and sat
stupidly on the carpet, gazing at her hands. Zehowah
wearied of her silence, for she understood the reason
of it well enough.
'I am tired of this woman,' she said to Khaled.
'Do you think I am jealous of her now?'
Khaled smiled a little, but said nothing, only
shaking his head.
'I am tired of her,' Zehowah repeated. 'She sits
before me like a sack of barley in a grainseller's shop,
neither moving nor speaking.'
'She is yours,' Khaled answered. 'Send her away.
Or we will give her in marriage to one of the sheikhs
who will take her away to the desert. In this way
she will not be able even to visit you except when her
husband comes into the city.'
But they decided nothing at that time. Some
days later Khaled was sitting alone upon a balcony,
Zehowah having gone to the bath, when Almasta came
suddenly before him and threw herself at his feet,[146]
beating her forehead and tearing her hair, though not
indeed in a way to injure it.
'What have I done?' she cried. 'Why is my
lord displeased?'
Khaled looked at her in surprise, but answered
nothing at first.
'Why are my lord's eyes like frozen pools by the
Kura, and why is his forehead like Kasbek in a mist?'
Khaled laughed a little at her words.
'Kasbek is far from Riad,' he answered, 'and the
waters of the Kura do not irrigate the Red Desert. I
am not displeased. On the contrary, I will give you
a husband and a sufficient dowry. Go in peace.'
But Almasta remained where she was, weeping and
beating her forehead.
'Let me stay!' she cried. 'Let me stay, for I love
you. I will eat the dust under your feet. Only let
me stay.'
'I think not,' Khaled answered. 'You weary
Zehowah with your silence and your sullenness.'
'Let me stay!' she repeated, over and over again.
She was not making any pretence of grief, for the
tears ran down abundantly and stained the red leather
of Khaled's shoes. Though he was hard-hearted he
was not altogether cruel, for a man who loves one
woman greatly is somewhat softened towards all such
as do not stand immediately in his way.[147]
'It is true,' he thought, 'that I have given this
woman some occasion of hope, for I have treated her
kindly during many days, and she has probably supposed
that I would marry her. For she is less keen-sighted
than Zehowah, and moreover she loves me.'
'Do not drive me out!' cried Almasta. 'For I
shall die if I cannot see your face. What have I
done?'
'You have indeed done nothing worthy of death,
for I cannot prove that you killed Abdul Kerim. I
will therefore give you a good husband and you shall
be happy.'
But Almasta would not go away, and embracing
his knees she looked up into his face, imploring him
to let her remain. Khaled could not but see that she
was beautiful, for the mid-day light fell upon her white
face and her red lips, and made shadows in her hair
of the colour of mellow dates, and reflections as bright
as gold when the burnisher is still in the goldsmith's
hand. Though he cared nothing for Almasta and
little for her sorrow, his eye was pleased and he
smiled.
Then he looked up and saw Zehowah standing
before him, just as she had come from the bath,
wrapped in loose garments of silk and gold. He
gazed at her attentively for there was a distant gleam
of light in her eyes and her cheeks were warm, though[148]
she stood in the shadow, so that he thought she had
never been more beautiful, and he did not care to look
at Almasta's face again.
'Why is Almasta lamenting in this way?'
Zehowah asked.
'She desires to stay in the palace,' Khaled
answered; 'but I have told her that she shall be
married, and yet she wishes to stay.'
'Let her be married quickly, then. Is she a free
woman, that she should resist, or is she rich that she
should refuse alms? Let her be married.'
'There is a certain young man, cousin to Abdul
Kerim, a Bedouin of pure descent. Let him take her,
if he will, and let the marriage be celebrated to-morrow.'
But Almasta shook her head, and her tears never
ceased from flowing.
'You will marry him,' said Khaled. 'And if any
harm comes to him, I will cause you to be put to
death before the second call to prayer on the following
morning.'
When Almasta heard this, her tears were suddenly
dried and her lips closed tightly. She rose from the
floor and retired to a distance within the room.
On that day Khaled sent for the young man of
whom he had spoken, whose name was Abdullah ibn
Mohammed el Herir, and offered him Almasta for a[149]
wife. And he accepted her joyfully, for he had heard
of her wonderful beauty, and was moreover much
gratified by being given a woman whom the former
Sultan would probably have married if he had lived.
Khaled also gave him a grey mare as a wedding gift,
and a handsome garment.
The marriage was therefore celebrated in the
customary manner, and no harm came to Abdullah.
But as the autumn had now set in, he soon afterwards
left the city, taking Almasta with him, to live in tents,
after the manner of the Bedouins.
[150]
CHAPTER VIII
Abdullah ibn Mohammed, though a young man, was
now the sheikh of a considerable tribe which had
frequently done good service to the late Sultan,
Zehowah's father, and which had also borne a prominent
part in the recent war. Abdul Kerim, whom
Almasta had murdered, had been the sheikh during
his lifetime, and if the claims of birth had been justly
considered, his son, though a mere boy, should have
succeeded him. But Abdullah had found it easy to
usurp the chief place, and in the council which was
held after Abdul Kerim's death he was chosen by
acclamation. It chanced, too, that he was not married
at the time when he took Almasta, for of two
wives the one had died of a fever during the summer,
and he had divorced the other on account of her
unbearable temper, having been deceived in respect of
this by her parents, who had assured him that she was
as gentle as a dove and as submissive as a lamb. But
she had turned out to be as quarrelsome as a wasp
and as unmanageable as an untrained hawk, so he[151]
divorced her, and the more readily because she was
not beautiful and her dower had been insignificant.
Almasta therefore found that she was her husband's
only wife.
She would certainly have killed him, as she had
killed Abdul Kerim, and, indeed, the late Sultan, in
the hope of being taken back into the palace, but she
was prevented by the fear of death, for she had seen
that Khaled's threat was not empty and would be
executed if harm came to Abdullah after his marriage.
She accordingly set herself to please him, and first of
all she learned to speak the Arabic language, in order
that she might sing to him in his own tongue and tell
him tales of distant countries, which she had learned
in her own home.
Abdullah passed the months of autumn and the
early winter in the desert, moving about from place to
place, as is the custom of the Bedouins, it being his
intention to reach a northerly point of Ajman in the
spring, in order to fall upon the Persian pilgrims and
extort a ransom before they entered the territory of
Nejed. For it would not be lawful to attack them
after that, since there was a treaty with the Emir of
Basrah, allowing the pilgrims a safe and free passage
towards Mecca, for which the Emir paid yearly a sum
of money to the Sultan of Nejed.
But Almasta knew nothing of this, for she was[152]
wholly ignorant of the desert; and moreover Abdullah
was a cautious man, who held that whatsoever is to
be kept secret must not be uttered aloud, though there
be no one within three days' journey to hear it.
Abdullah treated her with great consideration, not
obliging her to weary herself overmuch with cooking
and other work of the tents. For he rejoiced in her
beauty and in the sweetness of her voice, and his chief
delight was to sit in the door of the tent at night,
chewing frankincense, while Almasta sat within, close
behind him, and told him tales of her own country, or
of the life in the palace of Riad. The latter indeed
was as strange to him as the former, and much more
interesting.
Now one evening they were alone together in this
manner, and it was not yet very cold. But the stars
shone brightly as though there would be a frost before
morning, and the other tents were all closed and no
one was near the coals which remained from the fire
after baking the blanket-bread. One might hear the
chewing of the camels in the dark and the tramping
of a mare that moved slowly about, her hind feet
being chained together.
'Tell me more of the palace at Riad,' said Abdullah.
'For your Kura, and your snow-covered Kasbek, and
your Tiflis with its warm springs and gardens, I
shall never see. But I have seen the courts of the[153]
palace from my youth, and the Sultan's kahwah, and
the latticed windows of the harem, from which you
say that you saw me and loved me in the last days of
summer.'
Almasta had said this to please him, though it
was not true. For she knew that men easily believe
what flatters them, as women believe that what they
desire must come to pass.
'The palace is a wonderful palace,' said Almasta,
'and I will tell you of the treasures which are in it.'
'That is what I wish to hear,' answered Abdullah,
putting a piece of frankincense into his mouth and
beginning to chew it. 'Tell me of the treasures, for
it is said that they are great and of extraordinary
value.'
'The value of them cannot be calculated, O Abdullah,
for if you had seventy thousand hands and
on each hand seventy thousand fingers you could not
count upon your fingers in a whole lifetime the gold
sherifs and sequins and tomans which are hidden
away there in bags. Beneath the court of strangers
there is a great chamber built of stone in which the
sacks of gold are kept, and they are piled up to the
roof of the vault on all sides and in the middle,
leaving only narrow passages between.'
'If it is all gold, what is the use of the passages?'
asked Abdullah.[154]
'I do not know, but they are there, and there is
another room filled with silver in the same manner.
There are also secret places underground in which
jewels are kept in chests, rubies and pearls and Indian
diamonds and emeralds, in such quantities that they
would suffice to make necklaces of a thousand rows
each for each of the mountains in my country. And
we have many mountains, great ones, not such as the
little hills you have seen, but several days' journey in
height. For we say that when the Lord made the
earth it was at first unsteady, and He set our mountains
upon it, in the middle, to make it firm, and it
has never moved since.'
'I do not believe this,' said Abdullah. 'Tell me
more about the jewels in Riad.'
'There is no end of them. They are like the
grains of sand in the desert, and no one of them is
worth less than a thousand gold sherifs. I do not
even know the names of the different kinds, but there
are turquoises without number, of the Maidan, and all
good, so that you may write upon them with a piece
of gold as with a pen; and there are red stones as
large as a dove's egg, red and fiery as the wine of
Kachetia, and others, blue as the sky in winter, and
yellow ones, and some with leaves of gold in them,
like morsels of treng floating in the juice. But
besides the gold and silver and precious stones there[155]
are thousands of rich garments which are kept in
chests of fragrant wood, in upper chambers, abas woven
of gold and silk and linen, and vests embroidered with
pearls, and shoes of which even the soles appear to be
of gold. And there are great pieces of stuff, Indian
silk, and Persian velvet, and even satin from Stamboul,
woven by unbelievers with the help of devils.
Then too, in the palace of Riad, there are stored great
quantities of precious weapons, most of them made in
Syria, with many swords of Shām, which you say are
the best, though I do not understand the matter, each
having an inscription in letters of gold upon the
blade, and the hilt most cunningly chiselled in the
same metal, or carved out of ivory.'
'I saw the treasure of Haïl when we took it away
after the war, and most of it was distributed among us,
but there was nothing like this,' said Abdullah.
'The treasure of Haïl is to the treasure of Riad, as
a small black fly walking upon the face of the sun,'
answered Almasta. 'And yet there was wealth there
also, and there was much which you never saw. For
that Khaled, who is now Sultan, is crafty and avaricious,
and he loaded many camels secretly by night,
being helped by black slaves, all of whom he slew
afterwards with his own hand lest they should tell the
tale, and he then called camel-drivers and sent them
away with the beasts to Riad. And he said to them:[156]
"These are certain loads of fine wheat and of mellow
dates, for the Sultan's table, such as cannot be found in
Riad." But he sent a letter to his father-in-law, who
caused all the packs to be taken immediately to one
of the secret chambers, where he and his daughter
Zehowah took out the jewels and stored them with
their own. And as for me, I believe that Khaled
made an end of the Sultan himself by means of poison
in Dereyiyah, for he rode away suddenly after they
had met, as though his conscience smote him.'
'What is this evil tale which you are telling me?'
cried Abdullah. 'Surely, it is a lie, for Khaled is a
brave man who gives every one his due and deceives
no one. And he is by no means subtle, for I have
heard him in council, and he generally said only,
"Smite," but sometimes he said "Strike," and that
was all his eloquence. But whether he said the one
or the other, he was generally the first to follow his
own advice which, indeed, by the merciful dispensation
of Allah, procured us the victory. But what is
this tale which you have invented?'
'And who is this Khaled whom you praise?'
asked Almasta. 'And how can you know his craftiness
as I know it, who have lived in the palace and
braided his wife's hair, and brought him drink when
he was thirsty? Is he a man of your tribe whose
descent you can count upon your fingers, from him to[157]
his grandfather and to Ishmael and Abraham? Or is
he a man of a tribe known to you, and whose generations
you also know? Has any man called him
Khaled ibn Mohammed, or Khaled ibn Abdullah? Or
has he ever spoken of his father, who is probably now
drinking boiling water, and the black angels are pounding
his head with iron maces. Yet he says that he
came from the desert. Then you, who are of the desert,
do not know the desert, for you do not know whence
he is. But there are those who do know, and he fears
them, lest they should tell the truth and destroy him.'
'These are idle tales,' said Abdullah. 'Is it
probable that the Sultan would have bestowed his
daughter and all the treasures you have described
upon such a man without having made inquiries concerning
his family? And if the Sultan said nothing
to us about it, and if Khaled holds his peace, they
have doubtless their reasons. For it may be that
there is a blood feud between the people of Khaled
and some great person in Riad, so that he would be in
danger of his life if he revealed his father's name.
Allah knows. It is not our business.'
'O Abdullah, you are simple, and you believe all
things!' cried Almasta. 'But I heard of him in
Basrah.'
'What did you hear in Basrah? And how could
you have heard of him there?'[158]
'I was in the Emir's harem, being kept there to
rest from the journey after they had brought me from
the north. And there I heard of Khaled, for the
women talked of him, having been told tales about him
by a merchant who was admitted to the palace.'
'Now this is great folly,' answered Abdullah. 'For
Khaled came suddenly to Riad, and was married
immediately to Zehowah, and on the next day he
went out with us against Haïl, which we took from
the Shammar in three weeks' time from the day of our
marching. Moreover we found you there in the palace.
How then could news of Khaled have reached Basrah
before you left that place?'
'I had come to Haïl but the day before you
attacked the city,' said Almasta. 'But did I say that
I had heard of him as already married to Zehowah?'
For she saw that she had run the risk of being
found out in a lie, and she made haste to defend herself.
'What did you hear of him?' asked Abdullah.
'He was a notable fellow and a robber,' answered
Almasta. 'For he is a Persian, and a Shiyah, who
offers prayers to Ali in secret. But because he had
done many outrageous deeds, a great price was set
upon his head throughout Persia, so he fled into
Arabia and by his boldness and craft he married
Zehowah. And now he has made a secret covenant
to deliver over the kingdom of Nejed to the Persians.'[159]
Then Abdullah laughed aloud.
'Who shall deliver over the Bedouin to a white-faced
people, who live on boiled chestnuts and ride
astride of a camel? And when a man has got a
kingdom, why should he give it up to any one, except
under force?'
'There is a reason for this, too,' Almasta answered
unabashed. 'For the King of the Persians, whom they
call the Padeshah, has an only daughter, of great
beauty, and Khaled is to receive her in marriage as
the price of Nejed. Then he will by treachery destroy
the Padeshah's sons and will inherit Persia also, as he
has inherited Nejed; and after that he will make war
upon the Romans in Stamboul and will become the
master of the whole world.'
'This is a strange tale, and seems full of madness,'
said Abdullah. 'I do not believe it. Tell me rather
a story of your own country, and afterwards we will
sleep, for to-morrow we will leave this place.'
'I will tell you a wonderful history, which is quite
true,' answered Almasta. 'Take this fresh piece of
frankincense which I have prepared for you, and put
it into your mouth, for you will then not interrupt me
with questions while I am speaking.'
So Abdullah took the savoury gum and chewed it,
and Almasta told him the tale which here follows.
'There is in the north, beyond Persia, a great and[160]
prosperous kingdom, lying between two seas, and
resembling paradise for its wonderful beauty. All the
hills are covered with trees of every description in
which innumerable birds make their nests, all of a
beautiful plumage and good for man to eat. And in
these forests there are also great herds of animals,
whose name I do not know in Arabic, having branching
horns and kindred to the little beast which you call
the cow of the desert, but far better to eat and as large
as full-grown camels. A man who is hungry need
only shoot an arrow at a venture, for the birds and
animals are so numerous that he will certainly hit
something. This kingdom is watered everywhere by
rivers and streams abounding in fish, all good to eat
and easily caught, and all the valleys are filled with
vineyards of black and white grapes. But the people
of this country are chiefly Christians. May Allah send
them enlightenment! Now the King was an old man,
who delighted in feasting and cared little for the affairs
of the nation, preferring a lute to a sword, and a wine-cup
to a shield, and the feet of dancing girls to the
hoofs of war horses. He had no son to go out to war
for him, but only one beautiful daughter.'
'Like the Sultan of our country who died,' said
Abdullah.
'Very much. There were also other points of
resemblance. Now there was a certain Tartar in the[161]
kingdom of Samarkand, called Ismaïl, who was a
robber and had destroyed many caravans on the march,
and had broken into many houses both in Samarkand
and Tashkent, a notable evildoer. But having
one day stolen a fleet mare from the Sultan's stables,
the soldiers pursued him, and in order to escape impalement
he fled. No one could catch him because
the mare he had stolen was the fleetest in Great Tartary.
So he rode westward through many countries, and by
the shores of the inland sea, until he came to the
kingdom which I have described. There he hid himself
in the forest for some time and waylaid travellers,
making them tell him all that they knew of the
kingdom, and afterwards killing them. But when he
had obtained all that he wanted, both rich garments
and splendid weapons, and the necessary information,
he left the forest and rode into the capital city. Then
he went to the King and desired of him a private
audience, which was granted. He said that he was
the son of a powerful Christian prince, and had been
taken captive by the Tartars, but had escaped, and he
offered to make all Tartary subject to the King, if only
he might marry his daughter. And whether by magic,
or by eloquence, he succeeded, for the King was old
and feeble-minded. But soon after the wedding, he
poisoned his father-in-law and became king in his
place, though there were many in the land who had[162]
a better right, being closely connected with the royal
blood.'
'This is the story of Khaled,' said Abdullah. 'I
know the truth. Why do you weary me, trying to
deceive me, and calling him a robber? But it is true
that in Nejed there are men of good descent who have
a better right to sit on the throne.'
'Hear what followed,' answered Almasta. 'This
man Ismaïl afterwards took captive a woman of the
Tartars, who knew who he was, though he supposed
her ignorant. And he gave her in marriage to the
youngest and bravest of his captains, a man to whom
Allah had vouchsafed the tongue of eloquence, and the
teeth of strength, and the lips of discretion to close
together and hide both at the proper season. The
woman told her husband who Ismaïl was, and instructed
him concerning the palace, its passages and secret
places, and the treasures that were hidden there. And
she told him also that Ismaïl had made a covenant
with the Sultan of his own country, which would
bring destruction upon the nation he now ruled. For
she loved her husband on account of his youth and
beauty, and she had embraced his faith and was ready
to die for him.'
'The husband's name was Abdullah,' said Abdullah.
'And he also loved his wife, who surpassed other
women in beauty, as a bay mare surpasses pigs.'[163]
'He afterwards loved her still better,' answered
Almasta, 'for though he was only chief over four
hundred tents, she gave him a kingdom. Hear what
followed. But I will call him Abdullah if you please,
though his name was Mskhet.'
'Allah is merciful! There are no such names in
Arabia. This one is like the breaking of earthen
vessels upon stones. Call him Abdullah.'
'Abdullah therefore went to the wisest and most
discreet of his kindred, and spoke to them of the great
treasures which were hidden in the palace, and he
pointed out to their obscured sight that all this wealth
had been got by them and their fathers in war, and
had been taken in tithes from the people, and was
now in the possession of Ismaïl. And they talked
among themselves and saw that this was indeed
true. And at another time, he told them that Ismaïl
was not really of their religion, but a hypocrite. And
again a third time he told them the whole truth, so
that their hearts burned when they knew that their
King was but a robber who had been condemned to
death. Though they were discreet men, the story was
in some way told abroad among the soldiers, doubtless
by the intervention of angels, so that all the people
knew it, and were angry against Ismaïl and ready to
break out against him so soon as a man could be found
to lead them.[164]'
'But,' said Abdullah, 'this Ismaïl doubtless had a
strong guard of soldiers about him, and had given gifts
to his captains, and shown honour to them, so that they
were attached to him.'
'Undoubtedly,' replied Almasta, 'and but for his
wife, Abdullah could not have succeeded. She advised
him to go to his discreet kindred and friends and
say to them, "See, if you will afterwards support me, I
will go alone into the palace and will get the better of
this Ismaïl, when he is asleep, and I will so do that the
soldiers shall not oppose me. And afterwards, you will
all enter together and the treasure shall be divided.
But we will throw some of it to the people, lest they
be disappointed." And so he did. For his wife knew
the secret entrances to the palace and took him in with
her by night, disguised as a woman. And they went
together silently into the harem, and slew Ismaïl and
bound his wife, and took the keys of the treasure
chambers from under the pillow. After this they took
from the gold as many bags as there were soldiers, and
waked each man, giving him a sack of sherifs, and
bidding him take as much more as he could find, for
the King was dead. Then Abdullah's friends were admitted
and they divided the treasure, and went abroad
before it was day, calling upon the people that Ismaïl
was dead and that a man of their own nation was
King in his place, and scattering handfuls of gold into[165]
every house as they passed. And, behold, before the
second call to prayer, Abdullah was King, and all the
people came and did homage to him. And Abdullah
himself was astonished when he saw how easy it had
been, and loved his wife even better than before.'
So Almasta finished her tale and there was silence
for a time, while Abdullah sat still and gazed at the
closed tents in the starlight, and listened to the distant
chewing of the camels.
'Give me some water,' he said at last. 'I am very
thirsty.'
She brought him drink from the skin, and soon
afterwards he lay down to rest. But they said nothing
more to each other that night of the story which Almasta
had told.
On the following day they journeyed fully eleven
hours, to a place where there was much water, and
in the evening, when the camels were chewing, and
all the Bedouins had eaten and were resting in
their tents, Abdullah sat again in his accustomed
place.
'Almasta, light of my darkness,' he said, 'I would
gladly hear again something of the tale you told me
last night, for I have not remembered it well, being
overburdened with the cares of my people and the
direction of the march. Surely you said that when
the woman and her husband had killed Ismaïl they[166]
took the keys of the treasure chambers from under his
pillow. Is it not so?'
'They did so, Abdullah,'
'And they immediately went and took the gold and
gave it to the guards? But I have forgotten, for it is
a matter of little importance, being but a tale.'
'That is what they did,' answered Almasta.
'But surely this is a fable. How could the woman
know the way to the treasure chambers and find it in
the dark? For you said also that these secret places
were underground and therefore a great way from the
harem.'
'I did not say that, Abdullah, for the secret places
underground are those in Riad, which I described to
you before I began the other story.'
'This may be true, for I am very forgetful. But I
daresay that the treasures in the city you described
were also hidden in similar places.'
'Since you speak of this, I remember that it was
so. The glorious light of your intelligence penetrates
the darkness of my memory and makes it clear. The
places were exactly similar.'
'How then could the woman, who only knew the
harem, find her way in the dark, and lead her husband,
to a part of the palace which she had never visited?
This is a hard thing.'
'It was not hard for her. She had seen Ismaïl[167]
open with his key a door in his sleeping chamber, and
he had gone in and after some time had returned
bearing sacks of gold pieces. Was this a hard thing?
Or does a wise man make two doors to his treasure-house,
the one for himself and the other for thieves?
The one leading to his own chamber, for his own use,
and the other opening upon the highway for the convenience
of robbers? It is possible, but I think not.
Ismaïl had but one door. He was not an Egyptian
jackass.'
'This is reasonable,' said Abdullah. 'And I am
now satisfied. But my imagination was not at rest, for
the story is a good one and deserves to be well told.'
After this Abdullah wandered for a long time with
the Bedouins who accompanied him, often changing his
direction, so that they wondered whither he was leading
them, and began to question him. But he answered
that he had heard secretly of a great spoil to be taken,
and that they should all have a share of it, and whenever
they came upon Arabs of another tribe Abdullah
invited the sheikh and the most notable men to his
tent and entertained them sumptuously with camel's
meat, afterwards talking long with them in private.
Before many weeks had passed, the skilful men of the
tribe, who knew the signs, were aware that many other
Bedouins were travelling in the same direction as
themselves, though they could not be seen.[168]
But neither Abdullah's men, nor Almasta herself,
could know that in three months the sheikhs of all the
tribes from Hasa to Harb, and from Ajman to El
Kora, had heard that Khaled the Sultan was a Persian
robber, and a Shiyah at heart, venerating Ali and
execrating the true Sonna, a man who in all probability
drank wine in secret, and who was certainly plotting
to deliver up all Nejed to the power of the Ajjem.
Some of them believed the tale readily enough, for all
had asked whence Khaled was and none had got an
answer. Could a man be of the desert, they asked,
and yet not be known by name in any of the tribes,
nor his father before him? Surely, there was a secret,
they said, and he who will not tell the name of his
father has a reason for changing his own. And as for
his being brave and having fought well in the war
with the Shammar, how could a man have been a
robber if he were not brave, and why should he not
fight manfully, since he had everything to gain and
nothing to lose? As for the spoils, too, he had made
a pretence of dividing them justly, but it was now
well known that he had laden camels by stealth at
Haïl and had sent them secretly to Riad, slaughtering
with his own hand all those who had helped him.
Little by little, too, the story came to Riad and
was told in a low voice by merchants in the bazar,
and repeated by their wives among their acquaintance,[169]
and by the slaves in the market and among the
beggars who begged by the doors of the great mosque
but were fed daily from the palace. And though many
persons of the better sort thought that the story might
be true, and wagged their heads when Khaled's
name was spoken, yet the beggars with one accord
declared that it was a lie. For Khaled was generous
in almsgiving, and they said, 'If Khaled is overthrown
and another Sultan set up in his place, how do we
know whether there will be boiled camel's meat from
time to time as well as blanket-bread and a small
measure of barley meal? And will the next Sultan
scatter gold in the streets as Khaled did on the first
day when he rode to the mosque? Truly these chatterers
of Bedouins talk much of the treasure in the
palace which will be divided, but they who talk most
of gold, are they who most desire it, and we shall get
none. Therefore we say it is a lie, and Khaled is a
true man, and a Sonna like ourselves, not a swiller of
wine nor a devourer of pigs. Allah show him mercy
now and at the day of resurrection! The cock-sparrow
is pluming his breast while the hunter is pulling the
string of the snare.'
Thus the beggars talked among themselves all day,
reasoning after the manner of their kind. But they
suffered other people to talk as they pleased, for one
who desires alms must not exhibit a contradictory[170]
disposition, lest the rich man be offended and eat the
melon together with the melon peels, and exclaim that
the dirt-scraper has become a preacher. For the rich
man's anger is at the edge of his nostrils and always
ready.
As the winter passed away and the spring began,
the tribes of the desert drew nearer and nearer to the
city, as is their wont at that season. For many of the
sheikhs had houses in the city, in which they spent
the hot months of the year, while their people were
encamped in the low hill country not far off, where the
heat is less fierce than in the plains and the deserts.
And now also the season of the Haj was approaching,
for Ramadhan was not far off, and the beggars
congregated at the gates waiting for the first pilgrims,
and expecting plentiful alms, which in due time they
received, for in that year Abdullah did not molest the
Persian pilgrimage, his mind being occupied with other
matters.
[171]
CHAPTER IX
The story which was thus repeated from mouth to
mouth in Riad reached the palace at the last, and the
guards told it to each other as they sat together under
the shadow of the great wall, the cooks related it
among themselves in the kitchen, and the black slaves
gossiped about it in the corners of the courtyard, and
the women slaves stood and listened while they talked
and carried the tale into the harem. But the people
of the palace were more slow to believe than the people
of the city, for they shared in a measure in Khaled's
right of possession, and desired no change of master,
so that for a long time neither Zehowah nor Khaled
heard anything of what was commonly reported. Yet
at last the old woman who had been Zehowah's nurse
told her the substance of the story, with many protestations
of unbelief, and of anger against those who
had invented the lie.
'It is right that my lady and mistress should know
these things,' she said, 'and when our lord the Sultan
has been informed of them, he will doubtless cause his[172]
soldiers to go forth with sticks and purify the hides of
the chief evil-speakers in the bazar. There is one
especially, a merchant whose shop is opposite the door
of the little mosque, who is continually bold in falsehood,
being the same who sold me this garment for
linen; but it afterwards turned out to be cotton and
the gold threads are brass and have turned black. I
pray Allah to be just as well as merciful.'
At first Zehowah laughed, but soon afterwards her
face became grave, and she bent her brows, for though
the story was but a lie she saw how easily it would
find credence. She therefore sent the old woman
away with a gift and she herself went to Khaled, and
sat down beside him and took his hand.
'You have secret enemies,' she said, 'who are
plotting against your life, and who have already begun
to attack you by filling the air of the city with falsehoods
which fly from house to house like flies in summer
entering at the window and going out by the door. You
must sift this matter, for it is worthy of attention.'
'And what are these lies of which you speak?'
'It is said openly in the city that you are a Shiyah
and a Persian, having been a robber before you came
here, and that you are plotting to deliver over Nejed to
the Persians. Look to this, Khaled, for they say
that you are no Bedouin since no one knows your
descent nor the name of your father.'[173]
'Do you believe this of me, Zehowah?' Khaled
asked.
'Do I believe that the sun is black and the night
as white as the sun? But it is true that I do not
know your father's name.'
Then Khaled was troubled, for he saw that it would
be a hard matter to explain, and that without explanation
his safety might be endangered. Zehowah sat
still beside him, holding his hand and looking into his
face, as though expecting an answer.
'Have I done wisely in telling you?' she asked at
last. 'You are troubled. I should have said nothing.'
'You have done wisely,' he answered. 'For I will
go and speak to them, and if they believe me, the
matter is finished, but if not I have lost nothing.'
'It will be well to give the chief men presents, and
to distribute something among the people, for gifts are
great persuaders of unbelief.'
'Shall I give them presents because they have
believed evil of me?' asked Khaled, laughing. 'Rather
would I give you the treasures of the whole earth
because you have not believed it.'
'If I had the wealth of the whole world I would
give it to them rather than that they should hurt a hair
of your head,' Zehowah answered.
'Am I more dear to you than so much gold,
Zehowah?'[174]
'What is gold that it should be weighed in the
balance with the life of a man? You are dearer to
me than gold.'
'Is this love, Zehowah?' Khaled asked, in a low
voice.
'I do not know whether it be love or not.'
'The wing of night is lifted for a moment, and the
false dawn is seen, and afterwards it is night again.
But the true dawn will come by and by, when night
folds her wings before the day.'
'You speak in a riddle, Khaled.'
'It is no matter. I will neither make a speech
to the people, nor give them gifts. What is it to me?
Let them chatter from the first call to prayer until the
lights are put out in the evening. My fate is about
my neck, and I cannot change it, any more than I can
make you love me. Allah is great. I will wait and
see what happens.'
'Everything is undoubtedly in Allah's hand,' said
Zehowah. 'But if a man, having meat set before him,
will not raise his right hand to thrust it into the dish,
he will die of hunger.'
'And do you think that Allah does not know
before whether the man will stretch out his hand or
not?'
'Undoubtedly Allah knows. And he also knows
that if you will not sift this matter and stop the[175]
mouths of the liars, I will, though I am but a woman,
for otherwise we may both perish.'
'If they destroy me, yet they cannot take the
kingdom from you, nor hurt you,' said Khaled. 'How
then are you in danger? If I am slain you will then
choose a husband, whose father's name is known to
them. They will be satisfied and you will be no worse
off than before and possibly better. This is truth. I
will therefore wait for the end.'
'Who has put these words into your mouth, Khaled?
For the thought is not in your heart. Moreover, if
the tribes should rise up and overthrow you, they would
not spare me, for I would fight against them with my
hands and they would kill me.'
'Why should you fight for me, since you do not
love me? But this is folly. No one ever heard of
a woman taking arms and fighting.'
'I have heard of such deeds. And if I had not
heard of them, others should through me, for I would be
the first to do them.'
'I think that so long as Khaled lives, Zehowah
need not bear arms,' said Khaled. 'I will therefore
go and call the chief men together and speak to
them.'
And so he did. When the principal officers who
had remained in the city during the winter season
were assembled in the kahwah, and had hung up their[176]
swords on the pegs and partaken of a refreshment,
Khaled sent the slaves away, and spoke in a few words
as was his manner.
'Men of Riad, Aared and all Nejed,' he said, 'I
regret that more of you are not present here, but a
great number of sheikhs are still in the desert, and it
cannot be helped. I desire to tell you that I have
heard of a tale concerning me which is circulated from
mouth to ear throughout Riad and the whole kingdom.
This tale is untrue, a lie such as no honest man repeats
even to his own wife at home in the harem. For it is
said that I am not called Khaled, but perhaps Ali
Hassan, or perhaps Ali Hussein, that I am a Shiyah,
a wine-bibber and an idolatrous one who prays for
the intercession of Ali, besides being a Persian and a
robber. It is also said that I plot to deliver over the
kingdom of Nejed to the Persians, though how this
could be done I do not know, seeing that the Persians
are a meal-faced people of white jackals who do not
know how to ride a camel. These are all lies. I
swear by Allah.'
When the men heard these words, they looked
stealthily one at another, to see who would answer
Khaled, for they had all heard the story and most of
them were inclined to believe it. Peace is the mother
of evil-speaking, as garbage breeds flies in a corner,
which afterwards fly into clean houses and men ask[177]
whence they come. But none of the chief men found
anything to say at first, so that Khaled sat in silence
a long time, waiting for some one to speak. He therefore
turned to the one nearest to him, and addressed
him.
'Have you heard this tale?' he inquired. 'And
if you have heard it do you believe it?'
'I think, indeed, that I have heard something of
the kind,' answered the man. 'But it was as the
chattering of an uncertain vision in a dream, which
rings in the ears for a moment while it is yet dark in
the morning, but is forgotten when the sun rises. By
the instrumentality of a just mind Allah caused that
which entered at one ear to run out from the other as
the rinsing of a water-skin.'
'Good,' answered Khaled. 'Yet it is not well to
rinse the brains with falsehoods. And you?' he
inquired, turning to the next. 'Have you heard it
also?'
'Just lord, I have heard,' replied this one. 'But
if I have believed, may my head be shaved with a
red-hot razor having a jagged edge.'
'This is well,' Khaled said, and he questioned a
third.
'O Khaled!' cried the man. 'Is the milk sour,
because the slave has imagined a lie saying, "I will
say it is bad and then it will be given to me to drink"?[178]
Or is honey bitter because the cook has put salt in the
sweetmeats? Or is it night because the woman has
shut the door and the window, to keep out the sun?'
The next also found an answer, having collected
his thoughts while the others were speaking.
'A certain man,' said he, 'kept sheep in Tabal
Shammar, and the dog was with the sheep in the fold.
Then two foxes came to the fold in the evening and
one of them said to the man: "All dogs are wolves,
for we have seen their like in the mountains, and your
dog is also a wolf and will eat up your sheep. Make
haste to kill him therefore and cast out his carcass."
And to the sheep the other fox said: "How many
sheep hang by the heels at the butcher's! And how
many dogs live in sheepfolds! This is an evil world for
innocent people." And the sheep were at first persuaded,
but presently the dog ran out and caught one
of the foxes and broke his neck, and the man threw a
stone at the other and hit him, so that he also died.
Then the sheep said one to another: "The foxes have
suffered justly, for they were liars and robbers and the
dog and our master have protected us against them,
which they would not have done had they desired our
destruction." And so are the people, O Khaled. For
if you let the liars go unhurt the people will believe
them, but if you destroy them the faith of the multitude
will be turned again to you.'[179]
'This is a fable,' said Khaled, 'and it is not without
truth. I am the sheep-dog and the people are
the sheep. But in the name of Allah, which are the
foxes?'
Then he turned to another, an old man who was
the Kadi, celebrated for his wisdom and for his
religious teaching in the chief mosque.
'I ask you last of all,' said Khaled, 'because you
are the wisest, and when the wisest words are heard
last they are most easily remembered. For we first
put water into the lamp, and then oil to float upon
the surface, and next the wick, and last of all we take
a torch and light the lamp and the darkness disappears.
Light our lamp, therefore, O Kadi, and
let us see clearly.'
'O Khaled,' replied the Kadi, 'I am old and
have seen the world. You cannot destroy the tree by
cutting off one or two of its branches. It is necessary
to strike at the root. Now the root of this tree of
lies which has grown up is this. Neither we nor the
people know whence you are, nor what was your
father's name, and though I for my part do not impiously
ask whence Allah takes the good gifts which
he gives to men, there are many who are not satisfied,
and who will go about in jealousy to make trouble
until their questioning is answered. If you ask
counsel of me, I say, tell us here present of what[180]
tribe you are, for we believe you a pure Bedouin like
the best of us, and tell us your father's name, and
peace be upon him. We are men in authority and
will speak to the people, and I will address them from
the pulpit of the great mosque, and they will believe
us. Then all will be ended, and the lies will be
extinguished as the coals of an evening fire go out
when the night frost descends upon the camp in
winter. But if you will not tell us, yet I, for one, do
not believe ill of you; and moreover you are lord,
and we are vassals, so long as you are King and hold
good and evil in your hand.'
'So long as I am King,' Khaled repeated. 'And
you think that if I do not tell my father's name, I
shall not be where I am for a long time.'
'Allah is wise, and knows,' answered the Kadi,
but he would say nothing more.
'This is plain speaking,' said Khaled, 'such as I
like. But I might plainly take advantage of it. You
desire to know my father's name and whence I come.
Then is it not easy for me to say that I come from a
distant part of the Great Dahna? Is there a man in
Nejed who has crossed the Red Desert? And if I say
that my father was Mohammed ibn Abd el Hamid
ibn Abd el Latif, and so on to our father Ismaïl, upon
whom be peace, shall any one deny that I speak truth?
This is a very easy matter.'[181]
'So much the more will it be easy for us to satisfy
the people,' answered the Kadi.
'No doubt. I will think of what you have said.
And now, I pray you, partake of another refreshment
and go in peace.'
At this all the chief men looked one at the other
again, for they saw that Khaled would not tell them
what they wished to know. And those of them who
had doubted the story before now began to believe it.
But they held their peace, and presently made their
salutation and took their swords from the wall and
departed.
Khaled then left the kahwah and returned to
Zehowah in the harem.
'I have told them that these tales are lies,' he said,
'but they do not believe me.'
He repeated to Zehowah all that had been said,
and she listened attentively, for she began to understand
that there was danger not far off.
'And I told them,' he said at last, 'that it would
be as easy for me to invent names, as for them to hear
them. Then they looked sideways each at the other
and kept silent.'
'This is a foolish thing which you have done,'
answered Zehowah. 'They will now all believe that
your father was an evildoer and that you yourself
are no better. Otherwise, they will say, why should[182]
he wish to conceal anything? You should have told
them the truth, whatever it is.'
'You also wish to know it, I see,' said Khaled,
looking at Zehowah curiously. 'But if I were to tell
you, you would not believe me, I think, any more than
they would.'
Then Zehowah looked at him in her turn, but he
could not understand the language of her eyes.
'What is this secret of yours?' she asked. 'I
would indeed like to hear it, and if you swear to me
that it is true, by Allah, I will believe you. For you
are a very truthful man, and not subtle.'
But Khaled was troubled at this. For he knew
that she would find it hard to believe; and that if she
did believe it, she would be terrified to think that she
had married one of the genii, and if not, she would
suspect him of a hidden purpose in telling her an
empty fable, and he would then be further from her
love than before. He held his peace, therefore, for
some time, while she watched him, playing with her
beads. In reality she was very curious to know the
truth, though she had always been unwilling to ask it
of him, seeing that she had married him as a stranger,
of her own will and choice, without inquiry.
'Is it just,' she asked at last, 'that the people
should accuse you of evil deeds and fill the air of the
city with falsehoods concerning you, so that the very[183]
slaves hear the guards repeating the lies to each other
in the courtyard, and that I, who am your wife, should
not know the truth? What have I done that you
should not trust me? Or what have I said that you
should regard me no more than a slave who sprinkles
the floor and makes the fire, and while she is present
in the room you hold your peace lest she should know
your thoughts and betray them? Am I not your
wife, and faithful? Have I not given you a kingdom
and treasure beyond counting? Surely there were
times when you talked more freely with that barbarian
slave-woman, whose hair was red, than you ever talk
with me.'
'This is not true,' said Khaled. 'And if I talked
familiarly with Almasta, you know the reason, for you
yourself found it out, and called me simple for trying
to deceive you. And now she is gone to the desert
with her husband and there is no more question of her,
or her red hair. But all the rest is true, and you have
indeed given me a kingdom, which I am likely to lose
and wealth which I do not desire, though you have not
given me that which I covet more than gold or kingdoms,
for I desire it indeed, and that is your love.
Moreover if you have given me the rest, I have done
something in return, for I have fought for your people,
and shed my blood freely, and given you a nation captive,
besides loving you and refusing to take another[184]
wife into my house. And this last is a matter of
which some women would think more highly than
you.'
But Zehowah's curiosity was burning within her like
a thirst, for although she had at first cared little to
know of Khaled's former life, she was astonished at his
persistency in keeping the secret now, seeing that the
whole country was full of false rumours about him.
'How can a man expect that a woman should love
him, if he will not put his trust in her?' she asked.
Then Khaled did not hesitate any longer, for he was
never slow to do anything by which there seemed to be
any hope of gaining her love. He therefore took her
hand in his, and it trembled a little so that he was
pleased, though indeed the unsteadiness came more
from her anxiety to know the story he was about to
tell, than from any love she felt at that moment.
'You have sworn that you will believe me, Zehowah,'
he said. 'But I forewarn you that there are
hard things to understand. For the reason why I will
not tell my father's name, nor the name of my tribe is
a plain one, seeing that I was not born like other men,
and have no father at all, and my brethren are not men
but genii of the air, created from the beginning and
destined to die at the second blast of the trumpet before
the resurrection of the dead.'
At this Zehowah started suddenly in fright and[185]
looked into his face, expecting to see that he had coals
of fire for eyes and an appalling countenance. But
when she saw that he was not changed and had the
face of a man and the eyes of a man, she laughed.
'What is this idle tale of Afrits?' she exclaimed.
'Frighten children with it.'
'This is what I foresaw in you,' said Khaled.
'You cannot believe me. Of what use is it then to
tell you my story?'
Zehowah answered nothing, for she was angry,
supposing that Khaled was attempting to put her off
with a foolish tale. She had heard, indeed, of Genii and
Afrits and she was sure that they had existence, since
they were expressly mentioned in the Koran, but she
had never heard that any of them had taken the shape
and manner of a man. She remembered also how
Khaled had always fought with his hands in war, like
other men and been wounded, and she was sure that if
his story were true he would have summoned whole
legions of his fellows through the air to destroy the
enemy.
'You do not believe me,' he repeated somewhat
bitterly. 'And if you do not believe me, how shall
others do so?'
'You ask me to believe too much. If you ask for
my faith, you must offer me truths and not fables. It
is true that I am curious, which is foolish and womanly.[186]
But if you do not wish to tell me your secret, I cannot
force you to do so, nor have I any right to expect confidence.
Let us therefore talk of other things, or else
not talk at all, for though you will not satisfy me you
cannot deceive me in this way.'
'So you also believe that I am a Persian and a
robber,' said Khaled. 'Is it not so?'
'How can I tell what you are, if you will not tell
me? Is your name written in your face that I may
know it is indeed Khaled and not Ali Hassan as the
people say? Or is the record of your deeds inscribed
upon your forehead for me to read? You may be a
Persian. I cannot tell.'
Then Khaled bent his brows and turned his eyes
away from her, for he was angry and disappointed,
though indeed she knew in her heart that he was no
Persian. But she let him suppose that she thought
so, hoping perhaps to goad him into satisfying her
curiosity.
If Khaled had been a man like other men, as
Zehowah supposed him to be, he would doubtless have
invented a well-framed history such as she would have
believed, at least for the present. But to him such a
falsehood appeared useless, for he had seen the world
during many ages and had observed that a lie is never
really successful except by chance, seeing that no intelligence
is profound enough to foresee the manner in[187]
which it will be some day examined, whereas the
truth, being always coincident with the reality, can
never be wholly refuted.
Khaled therefore hesitated as to whether he should
tell his story from the beginning, or hold his peace;
but in the end he decided to speak, because it was intolerable
to him to be thought an evildoer by her.
'You make haste to disbelieve, before you have
heard all,' he said at last. 'Hear me to the end. I
have told you that I slew the Indian prince. That
was before I became a man. You yourself could not
understand how I was able to enter the palace and
carry him away without being observed. But as I
was at that time able to fly and to make both myself
and him invisible, this need not surprise you. If you
do not believe that I did it, let us order a litter to be
brought for you, and I will take my mare and a
sufficient number of attendants, and let us ride southwards
into the Red Desert. There I will show you
the man's bones. You will probably recognise them
by the gold chain which he wore about his neck and
by his ring. After that, when I had buried him, the
messenger of Allah came to me, and because the man
was an unbeliever, and had intended to embrace the
faith outwardly, having evil in his heart, Allah did
not destroy me immediately, but commanded that the
angel Asrael should write my name in the book of[188]
life, that I might become a man. But Allah gave me
no soul, promising only that if I could win your love,
whose suitor I had killed, I should receive an immortal
spirit, which should then be judged according
to my deeds. This is truth. I swear it in the name
of Allah, the merciful, the compassionate. Then an
angel gave me garments such as men wear, and a
sword, and a good mare, and I travelled hither to
Riad, eating locusts for food. And though no man
knew me, you married me at once, for it was the will of
Allah, whose will shall also be done to the end. The
rest you know. If, therefore, you will love me before
I die, I shall receive a soul and it may be that I shall
inherit paradise, for I am a true believer and have
shed blood for the faith. But if you do not love me,
when I die I shall perish as the flame of a lamp that
is blown out at dawn. This is the truth.'
He ceased from speaking and looked again at
Zehowah. At first he supposed from her face that
she believed him, and his heart was comforted, but
presently she smiled, and he understood that she was
not convinced. For the story had interested her
greatly and she had almost forgotten not to believe it,
but when she no longer heard his voice, it seemed too
hard for her.
'This is a strange tale,' she said, 'and it will
probably not satisfy the people.'[189]
'I do not care whether they are satisfied or not,'
Khaled answered. 'All I desire is to be believed by
you, for I cannot bear that you should think me what
I am not.'
'What can I do? I cannot say to my intelligence,
take this and reject that, any more than I can say to
my heart, love or love not. It would indeed have
been easier if you had said, "I am a certain Persian,
a fugitive, protect me, for my enemies are upon me."
I could perhaps give you protection if you require it,
as you may. But you come to me with a monstrous
tale, and you ask me to love, not a man, but a Jinn or
an Afrit, or whatever it pleases you to call yourself.
Assuredly this is too hard for me.'
And again Zehowah smiled scornfully, for she was
really beginning to think that he might be a Persian
disguised as the people said.
'I need no protection from man or woman,' said
Khaled, 'for I fear neither the one nor the other.
For I am strong, and if I am able to give out of
charity I am also able to take by force. My fate is
ever with me. I cannot escape it. But neither can
others escape theirs. I will fight alone if need be,
for if you will not love me I care little how I may
end. Moreover, in battle, it is not good to stand in
the way of a man who seeks death.'
But Zehowah thought this might be the speech of[190]
a desperate man such as Ali Hassan, the robber, as
well as of Khaled, the Jinn, and she was not convinced,
though she no longer smiled. For she knew little of
supernatural beings, and a devil might easily call himself
a good spirit, so that she was convinced that she
was married either to a demon or to a dangerous robber,
and she could not even decide which of the two she
would have preferred, for either was bad enough, and as
for love there could no longer be any question of that.
Khaled understood well enough and rose from his
seat and went away, desiring to be alone. He knew
that he was now surrounded by danger on every side
and that he could not even look to his wife for comfort,
since she also believed him to be an impostor.
'Truly,' he said to himself, 'this is a task beyond
accomplishment, which Allah has laid upon me. It
is harder to get a woman's love than to win kingdoms,
and it is easier to destroy a whole army with
one stroke of a sword than to make a woman believe
that which she does not desire. And now the end is
at hand. For she will never love me and I shall
certainly perish in this fight, being alone against so
many. Allah assuredly did not intend me to run
away, and moreover there is no reason left for remaining
alive.'
On that day Khaled again called the chief men
together in his kahwah, and addressed them briefly.[191]
'Men of Riad,' he said, 'I am aware that there is
a conspiracy to overthrow and destroy me, and I
daresay that you yourselves are among the plotters.
I will not tell you who I am, but I swear by Allah
that I am neither a Persian nor a robber, nor yet a
Shiyah. You will doubtless attack me unawares, but
you will not find me sleeping. I will kill as many
of you as I can, and afterwards I also shall undoubtedly
be killed, for I am alone and you have
many thousands on your side. Min Allah—it is in
Allah's hands. Go in peace.'
So they departed, shaking their heads, but saying
nothing.
[192]
CHAPTER X
The Sheikh of the beggars was an old man, blind from
his childhood, but otherwise strong and full of health,
delighting in quarrels and swift to handle his staff.
He had at first become a beggar, being still a young
man, for his father and mother had died without
making provision for him, and he had no brothers.
As he boasted that he was of the pure blood of the
desert on both sides, the other beggars jeered at him
in the beginning, calling him Ibn el Sheikh in derision
and sometimes stealing his food from him. But
he beat them mightily, the just and the unjust
together, since he could not see, and acquired great
consideration amongst them, after which he behaved
generously, giving his share with the rest for the
common good, and something more. His companions
learned also that his story was true and that his
blood was as good as any from Ajman to El Kara, for
a Bedouin of the same tribe as Abdullah, the husband
of Almasta, came to see him not less than once every
year, and called him brother and filled his sack with[193]
barley. This Bedouin was a person of consideration,
also, as the beggars saw from his having a mare of
his own, provided with a good saddle, and from his
weapons. In the course of time therefore the blind
man grew great in the eyes of his fellows, until they
called him Sheikh respectfully, and waited on him
when he performed his ablutions, and he obtained
over them a supremacy as great as was Khaled's over
the kingdom he governed. He was very wise also,
acquainted with the interpretation of dreams, and able
to recite various chapters of the Koran. It was even
said that he was able to distinguish a good man from
a bad by the sound of his tread, though some thought
that he only heard the jingling of coins in the girdle,
and judged by this, having a finer hearing than other
men. At all events he was often aware that a person
able to give alms was approaching, while his companions
were talking among themselves and noticed
nothing, though they had eyes to see, being mostly
only cripples and lepers.
On a certain day in the spring, when the sun was
beginning to be hot and not long after Khaled had
told Zehowah his story, many of the beggars were
sitting in the eastern gate, by which the great road
issues out of the city towards Hasa. They expected
the coming of the first pilgrims every day, for the
season was advancing. And now they sat talking[194]
together of the good prospects before them, and rejoicing
that the winter was over so that they would
not suffer any more from the cold.
'There is a horseman on the road,' said the Sheikh
of the beggars, interrupting the conversation. 'O you
to whom Allah has preserved the light of day, look
forth and tell me who the rider is.'
'It is undoubtedly a pilgrim,' answered a young
beggar, who was a stranger but had found his way to
Riad without legs, no man knew how.
'Ass of Egypt,' replied the Sheikh reprovingly, 'do
pilgrims ride at a full gallop upon steeds of pure
blood? But though your eyes are open your ears are
deaf with the sleep of stupidity from which there is no
awakening. That is a good horse, ridden by a light
rider. Truly a man must itch to be called Haji who
gallops thus on the road to Mecca.'
Then the others looked, and at last one of them
spoke, a hunchback having but one eye, but that one
was keen.
'O Sheikh,' he said, 'rejoice and praise Allah, for I
think it is he whom you call your brother, who comes
in from the desert to visit you.'
'If that is the case, I will indeed give thanks,'
answered the blind man, 'for there is little in my
barley-sack, less in my wallet and nothing at all in
my stomach. Allah is gracious and compassionate!'[195]
The hunchback's eye had not deceived him, and
before long the Bedouin dismounted at the gate and
looked about until he saw the Sheikh of the beggars,
who indeed had already risen to welcome him. When
they had embraced the Bedouin led the blind man
along in the shadow of the eastern wall until they
were so far from the rest that they might freely talk
without being overheard. Then they sat down together,
and the mare stood waiting before them.
'O my brother,' the Bedouin began, 'was not my
mother the adopted daughter of your uncle, upon whom
be peace? And have I not called you brother and filled
your barley-sack from time to time these many years?'
'This is true,' answered the Sheikh of the beggars.
'Allah will requite you with seventy thousand days of
unspeakable bliss for every grain of barley you have
caused to pass my teeth. "Be constant in prayer and
in giving alms," says the holy book, "and you shall
find with Allah all the good which you have sent
before you, for your souls." And it is also said, "Give
alms to your kindred, and to the poor and to orphans."
I am also grateful for all you have done, and my gratitude
grows as a palm tree in the garden of my soul
which is irrigated by your charity.'
'It is well, my brother, it is well. I know the
uprightness of your heart, and I have not ridden
hither from the desert to count the treasure which[196]
may be in store for me in paradise. Allah knows the
good, as well as the evil. I have come for another
purpose. But tell me first, what is the news in the
city? Are there no strange rumours afloat of late
concerning Khaled the Sultan?'
'In each man's soul there are two wells,' said the
blind man. 'The one is the spring of truth, the other
is the fountain of lies.'
'You are wise and full of years,' said the Bedouin,
'and I understand your caution, for I also am not
very young. But here we must speak plainly, for the
time is short in which to act. A sand-storm has
darkened the eyes of the men of the desert and they
are saying that Khaled is a Shiyah, a Persian and a
robber, and that he must be overthrown and a man of
our own people made king in his stead.'
'I have indeed heard such a rumour.'
'It is more than a rumour. The tribes are even
now assembling towards Riad, and before many days
are past the end will come. Abdullah is the chief
mover in this. But with your help, my brother, we
will make his plotting empty and his scheming fruitless
as a twig of ghada stuck into the sand, which will
neither strike root nor bear leaves.'
When the Sheikh of the beggars heard that he was
expected to give help in frustrating Abdullah's plans
he was troubled and much astonished.[197]
'Shall the blind sheep go out and fight the lion?'
he inquired tremulously.
'Even so,' replied the Bedouin unmoved, 'and,
moreover, without danger to himself. Hear me first.
Abdullah and his tribe will encamp in the low hills, in
a few days, as usual, but somewhat earlier than in
other years, and a great number of other Bedouins will
be in the neighbouring valleys at the same time.
Then Abdullah will come into the city openly and go
to his house with his wife and slaves, and during
several days he will receive the visits of his friends and
return them, and go to the palace and salute Khaled,
as though nothing were about to happen. But in the
meantime he will make everything ready, for it is his
intention to go into the palace at night, disguised in
a woman's garment, with his wife, and they will slay
Khaled in his sleep, and bind Zehowah, and distribute
much treasure among the guards and slaves, and before
morning the city will be full of Bedouins all ready to
proclaim Abdullah Sultan. And you alone can prevent
all this.'
But the blind man laughed in his beard.
'This is a good jest!' he cried. 'You have sought
out a valiant warrior to stand between the Sultan and
death! I am blind and old, and a beggar, and you
would have me stand in the path of Abdullah and a
thousand armed men. They would certainly laugh, as[198]
I do. Let me take with me a few lepers and the
Egyptian jackass without legs, who has flown among
us lately like a locust out of the clear air. Verily,
their strength shall avail against the lances of the desert.'
'This is no jest, my brother,' answered the Bedouin,
gravely. 'Neither I, nor a hundred armed horsemen
with me could do what you will do unhurt. But I
will save Khaled. For in the battle of the pass before
we came to Haïl last summer when I had an arrow
in my right arm and a spear thrust in my side, certain
dogs of Shammars encompassed me, and darkness was
already descending upon my eyes when Khaled rode
in like a whirlwind of scythes, and sent four of them to
hell, where they are now drinking molten brass like
thirsty camels. Then I swore by Allah that I would
defend him in the hour of need.'
'Why do you not then lie in wait for Abdullah
yourself and slay him as he passes you in the dark?'
'Is he not the sheikh of my tribe? How then can
I lay a hand on him? But I have thought of this
during many nights in my tent, and you alone can do
what is needed.'
'Surely this is folly,' said the Sheikh of the beggars.
'You have met a hot wind in the desert and your mind
is unsettled by it. I pray you come with me into the
city to my dwelling, and take some refreshment, or at
least let me send to the well for a drink of water.'[199]
'My head is cool and I am not thirsty, nor is the
hot wind blowing at this time of year. Hear me. I
will tell you how to save Khaled from destruction, and
you shall receive more gold than you have dreamed of,
and a house, and rich garments, and a young wife of a
good family to comfort your old age. For the deed is
easy and safe, but the reward will be great, and you
alone can do the one and earn the other.'
'I perceive,' said the blind man, 'that you are
indeed in earnest, but I cannot understand what I can
do. We know that Khaled is forewarned, for it is
not many days since he summoned the chief men in
Riad, with the Kadi, to the palace, and refused to tell
them the name of his father, but said that if they
attacked him he would kill as many of them as he
could.'
'I did not know this,' answered the Bedouin.
'But the knowledge does not change my plan. Now
hear me. You are the Sheikh of all the beggars in
Riad—may Allah send you long life and much gain—they
are an army and you are a captain. Moreover
the beggars are doubtless attached to Khaled by his
generosity, and all of you say in your hearts that
under Abdullah there may be more sticks and less
barley for you.'
'This is true. But then, my brother, it is otherwise
with you, for you are of Abdullah's tribe and will[200]
have honour and riches if he is made Sultan. How
then is my advantage also yours?'
'And did not this Abdullah in the first place
divorce with ignominy his second wife, who is my
kinswoman, being the daughter of my father's sister?
And has he restored the dowry as the law commands?
Truly his new wife is even now sitting upon my
cousin's carpet. And secondly Abdullah made himself
sheikh unjustly, for our sheikh should be Abdul
Kerim's son.'
'Yet you accepted Abdullah and promised him
allegiance.'
'Does the camel say to his driver: "I do not like
to carry a load of barley, I would rather bear a basket
of dates"? "Eat what you please in your tent, but
dress as other men," says the proverb. Hear me, for I
speak wisdom. Abdullah will come into the city and
go to his house, intending to prepare the way for evil.
And he will walk about the streets as usual, without
attendants, both because he knows that the people are
mostly with him, and also in order not to attract
notice. Now Abdullah is the spring from which all
this wickedness flows, he is the chief camel whom the
others follow, the coal in the ashes by which the fire
is kept alive, the head without which the body cannot
live. Dry up the spring, therefore, let the chief camel
fall into a pit suddenly, extinguish the coal, strike off[201]
the head. Let them ask in the morning: "Where is
he?" And let him not be found anywhere. Then
the people will be amazed and will not know what to
do, having no leader. This is for you to do, and it
can easily be done.'
'What folly is this?' asked the blind man, shaking
his head. 'And how can I do what you wish?'
'It is very easy, for I know that you and your
companions are as one man, living together for the
common good. Go to the beggars therefore and tell
them what I have told you, and be not afraid, for
they will not betray you. And when Abdullah walks
about the city alone lie in wait for him, for you will
easily catch him in a narrow street, and two or three
score of you can run after him begging for alms, until
he is surrounded on all sides. Then fall upon him,
and bind him, and take him secretly to one of your
dwellings and keep him there, so that none find him,
until the storm is past. In this way you will save
Khaled and the kingdom, and when all is quiet you
can deliver him up to be a laughing-stock at the
palace and to all who believed in him. For there is
nothing to fear, and I, for my part, am sure that
Abdul Kerim's son will immediately be made sheikh
of our tribe so that Abdullah will not return to us.'
'You are subtle, my brother,' said the Sheikh of
the beggars, smiling and stroking his beard. 'This is[202]
a good plan, being very simple, and Khaled will be
grateful to us, and honour us beggars exceedingly.
Said I not well that the jest was good? Surely it is
better than I had thought, and more profitable.'
'I have thought of it long in the nights of winter,
both by the camp fire and in my tent and on the
march. But I have told no one, nor will tell any one
until all is done. But so soon as you have taken
Abdullah and hidden him, let me know of it. To this
end, when we are encamped outside the city I will
come every evening to prayers in the great mosque and
afterwards will wait for you near the door. As soon
as I know that Abdullah is out of finding I will spread
the report that he is lost, and before long all our tribe
will give up the search, being indeed glad to get rid
of him. And the rest is in the hand of Allah. I
have done what I can, you must now do your share.'
'By Allah! You shall not complain of me,'
answered the blind man, 'nor of my people, for the
jest is surpassingly good, and shall be well carried
out.'
'I will therefore go into the city, where I have
business,' said the Bedouin. 'For I gave a reason for
coming alone to Riad, and must needs show myself
there to those who know me.'
So the Bedouin filled the blind beggar's sack with
barley and dates from his own supply and embraced[203]
him and went into the city, but the Sheikh of the
beggars remained sitting in the same place for some
time, at a distance from the rest, in an attitude of
inward contemplation, though he was in reality listening
to what the hunchback was telling the new cripple
from Egypt. The Sheikh's ears were sharper than those
of other men and he heard very clearly what was said.
'This Bedouin,' said the hunchback, 'is a near
relation of our Sheikh, and holds him in great veneration,
coming frequently to see him even from a considerable
distance, and always bringing him a present
of food. And you may see by his mare and by his
weapons that he is a person of consideration in his
tribe. For our Sheikh is not a negro, nor the son of a
Syrian camel-driver, but an Arab of the best blood in
the desert, and wise enough to sit in the council in the
Sultan's palace. You, who are but lately arrived, being
transported into our midst by the mercy of Allah,
must learn all these things, and you will also find out
that our Sheikh has eyes in his ears, and in his fingers
and in his staff, though he is counted blind, and you
cannot deceive him easily as you might suppose.'
The Sheikh of the beggars was pleased when he
heard this and listened attentively to hear the answer
made by the Egyptian, whom he did not yet trust
because he was a newcomer and a stranger.
'Truly,' replied the cripple, 'Allah has been merciful[204]
and compassionate to me, for he has brought me
into the society of the wise and the good, which is
better than much feasting in the company of the
ignorant and the ill-mannered. And as for the Sheikh,
he is evidently a very holy man, to whom eyes are not
in any way necessary, his inward sight being constantly
fixed upon heavenly things.'
This answer did not altogether please the blind man,
for it savoured somewhat of flattery. But the other
beggars approved of the speech, deeming that it showed
a submissive spirit, and readiness to obey and respect
their chief.
'O you of Egypt!' cried the Sheikh, calling to him.
'Come here and sit beside me, for I have heard what
you said and desire your company.'
The cripple immediately began to crawl along by
the wall, dragging himself upon his hands and body,
for he had no legs.
'He is obedient,' thought the blind man, 'though it
costs him much labour to move.'
When the man was beside him, the Sheikh took an
onion and a date from his wallet and set them down
upon the ground.
'Eat,' he said, 'and give thanks.'
The cripple thanked him and taking the food, began
to eat the onion.
'You have taken the onion in your right hand and[205]
the date in your left,' said the Sheikh. 'And you are
eating the onion first.'
'This is true,' answered the Egyptian. 'I see that
my lord has indeed eyes in his fingers.'
'I have,' said the Sheikh. 'But that is not all, for
this is an allegory. All men like to eat the onion first
and the date afterwards, for though the onion be ever
so sweet and tender, its taste is bitter when a man has
eaten sugar-dates before it. But you have begun by
giving us the mellow fruit of flattery, and when you
give us the wholesome vegetable of truth it will be too
sharp for our palates. Ponder this in your heart, chew
it as the camel does her cud, and the well-digested
food of wisdom shall nourish your understanding.'
The cripple listened in astonishment at the depth
of the Sheikh's thought, and he would have spoken out
his admiration, but it is not possible to eat an onion
and to be eloquent at the same time. The blind man
knew this and continued to give him instruction.
'The onion has saved you,' he said, 'for your
mouth being full you could say nothing flattering,
and now you will think before you speak. Consider
how I have treated you. Have I at once rendered
thanks to Allah for sending into our midst a young
man whose gifts of eloquence are at least equal to
those of the Kadi himself? I have said nothing so
foolish. I have called you an ass of Egypt and otherwise[206]
rebuked you, for the good of your understanding,
though I begin to think that you are indeed a very
estimable young man, and it is possible that your wit
may ripen in our society. But now I perceive by my
hearing that you are eating the date. I pray you now,
eat another onion after it.'
'I cannot,' answered the cripple, 'for my lips are
puckered at the thought of it.'
'Neither is truth sweet after flattery,' said the
Sheikh, who then began to eat the other onion himself.
'I will endeavour to profit by your precepts, my
lord,' replied the Egyptian.
'Allah will then certainly enlighten you, my son.
Remember also another thing. We are ourselves here
a community, distinct from the citizens of Riad, and
what we do, we do for the common good. Remember
therefore to share what you receive with the rest, as
they will share what they have with you, and take
part with them in whatsoever is done by common consent.
In this way it will be well with you and you
shall grow fat; but if you are against us you will find
evil in every man's hand, for since it has pleased Allah
to give you no legs, you cannot possibly run away.'
Having said this much the Sheikh of the beggars
was silent. But afterwards on the same day he
gathered about him the strongest of his companions,
being mostly men who had the use of both arms[207]
and both legs, though some of them were lepers
and some had but one eye, and some were deaf and
dumb, according to the affliction which it had pleased
Allah to send upon each. These were the most trusty
and faithful of his people, and to them he communicated
openly what the Bedouin had proposed to him
in secret. All of them approved the plan, for they
greatly feared the overthrow of Khaled.
'But,' said one, 'we cannot keep this Abdullah for
ever, and we can surely not kill him, for we should
bring upon ourselves a grievous punishment.'
'Allah forbid that we should shed blood,' replied
the Sheikh. 'But when Abdul Kerim's son is made
Sheikh of the tribe, Abdullah will probably not wish
to go back to his people. Moreover it shall be for
Khaled to judge what shall be done to the man, and
he will probably cut off his head. But in the meantime
it is necessary to choose amongst us spies, two
for each gate of the city, to the number of twenty-two
men, to watch for Abdullah. For we do not know
when he will come, and of the two spies who see him
enter, both must follow him and see whither he goes,
and then the one will immediately inform all the rest
while the other waits for him. From the time he enters
the city he will not be able to go anywhere without
our knowledge, and we shall certainly catch him one
day towards dusk in some narrow street of the city.'[208]
The beggars saw that this plan was wise and
safe for themselves, and they did as the Sheikh advised,
posting men at all the gates to wait for Abdullah.
He was, indeed, not far distant, and before many days
he rode into the city towards evening, attended by a
few slaves and two Bedouins, his wife Almasta riding
in the midst of them upon a camel. His face was
not hidden and the two beggars who were watching
recognised him immediately. They both followed him,
until he entered his own house, and then the one sat
down in the street to watch until he should come out,
asking alms of those who accompanied him, until they
also went in, with the beasts. But the other made
haste to find the Sheikh and to inform him that
Abdullah had come and was now in his own dwelling.
'It is well,' said the blind man. 'The cat is now
asleep, and dreams of mice, but he shall wake in the
midst of dogs. Abdullah will not leave his house to-night,
for it is late, and though he is not afraid in the
daytime, he will not go out much at night, lest a
secret messenger from Khaled, bearing evil in his
hand, should meet him by the way. But to-morrow
before dawn, some of us will wait in the neighbourhood
of his house, and two or three score of others
feigning to be all blind, as I am, must always be near
at hand, watching us. We will then begin to importune
him for alms, flattering him with fine language, as[209]
though we knew his plans. And this we will do continually,
when he is abroad, until one day to escape
from us he will turn quickly into a narrow street, supposing
that we cannot see him. For he will not wish
to be pursued by our cries in the bazar lest he be
obliged for shame to give something to each. Then
those who can see will open their eyes and we will
catch him in the lane, and bind rags over his head
so that he cannot cry out, and lead him away to my
dwelling by the Yemamah gate. And if any meet
us by the way and inquire whom we are taking with
us, we will say that he is one of ourselves, who is
an epileptic and has fallen down in a fit, and that we
are taking him to the farrier's by the gate, to be
burned with red-hot irons for his recovery, as the
physicians recommend in such cases. Surely we have
now foreseen most things, but if we have forgotten
anything, Allah will doubtless provide.'
All the beggars in council approved this plan, for
they saw that it could be easily carried out, if they
could only catch Abdullah in a lonely street at the
hour of prayer when few persons are passing.
But Abdullah himself was ignorant of the evil
in store for him, and feared nothing, having been
secretly informed that most of the better sort of people
were ready to support him if he would strike the
blow; for they suspected Khaled of being a traitor,[210]
especially since he had last addressed the chief men
and refused to tell the name of his father. Abdullah
therefore came and went openly in the city.
In the meantime, however, Khaled was informed of
his presence and was warned of the danger. The aged
Kadi came secretly by night to the palace and desired
to be received by the Sultan in order to communicate
to him news of great importance, as he said. Khaled
immediately received him, and the Kadi proceeded to
give a full account of Abdullah's designs; but the
Sultan expressed no astonishment.
'Let him do what he will,' he answered, 'for I care
little and, after all, what must be will be.'
'But I beseech you to consider,' said the Kadi,
'that by acting promptly you could easily quell this
revolution, in which I, by Allah, have no part and
will have none. For though many persons may just
now desire your overthrow, because they expect to get
a share of the treasure in the confusion, yet few are
disposed to accept such a man as Abdullah ibn Mohammed
el Herir in your place. Even his own tribe
are not all faithful to him, and I am credibly informed
that many look upon him as an intruder, and would
prefer the son of Abdul Kerim for sheikh, as would
be just, if the rights of birth were considered. And
it would be an easy matter to remove this Abdullah.
I implore you to think of the matter.'[211]
'Would this not be a murder?' asked Khaled,
looking curiously at the venerable preacher.
'Allah is merciful and forgiving,' replied the old
man, looking down and stroking his beard. 'And
moreover, if you suffer Abdullah to go about a few
days longer he will certainly destroy you, whereas it is
an easy matter to give him a cup of such good drink
as will save him from thirst ever afterwards, and you
would obtain quiet and the kingdom would be at
peace.'
'They shall not find me sleeping,' said Khaled, 'and
so that I may only slay a score of them first, I care
not how soon I perish.'
'This is indeed a new kind of madness!' exclaimed
the Kadi. 'I cannot understand it. But I have
done what I could, and I can do nothing more.'
'Nor is there anything more to be done,' said
Khaled. 'But I thank you, for it is clear that you
have spoken from a good intention.'
So the Kadi went away again, and Khaled returned
to Zehowah, caring not at all whether he lived
or died. But Zehowah began to watch him narrowly.
'If this man were a Persian, an enemy and a
traitor,' she thought, 'he would now begin to take
measures for his own safety, seeing that he is threatened
on every side. Yet he does not lift a hand to
defend himself. This can proceed only from one of[212]
two causes. Either he is a Jinn, as he has told me,
and they cannot kill him, and so he does not fear
them; or else he desires death, out of a sort of madness
which has grown up in him through this love of
which he is always speaking.'
[213]
CHAPTER XI
In these days many of the Bedouin tribes came near
the city and encamped in great numbers within half
a day's journey and less. Abdullah was exceedingly
busy with his preparations, and spent much time in
talking with other sheikhs, hardly making any concealment
of his movements or plans. For by this
time it seemed clear to him that the greater part of
the people were with him, and every one spoke of
the coming overthrow of Khaled as an open matter.
Khaled himself, too, was reported to be in fear of his
life, and he was no longer seen in the streets as
formerly, nor in the courts of the palace, nor even
every day in the hall, but remained shut up in the
harem, and none saw him except the women and a
few slaves. Men said aloud that he was in great fear
and distress, and as this story gained credence, so
Abdullah's importance increased, since it was he who
had brought such terror upon Khaled. All this was
open talk in the bazar, but Abdullah was himself
somewhat suspicious, supposing that Khaled must[214]
have a plan in reserve for defending his possession
of the throne. Abdullah, however, kept secret the
manner in which he intended to enter the palace,
though he promised his adherents to open to them the
gates of the castle, and the doors of the treasure
chambers on a certain day, which he named, at the
time of the first call to prayer in the morning, warning
all those who were with him to come together in the
great square before that hour in order to be ready to
help him, if necessary, and to overwhelm the guards
of the palace if they should make any resistance.
But he did not know that the man of his tribe who
was kinsman to the chief of the beggars had overheard
his talk with his wife.
Meanwhile the beggars seemed to be multiplied
exceedingly in Riad, for whenever Abdullah went out
of his house they came upon him, sometimes by twos
and threes and sometimes in scores, pressing close to
him and begging alms. They also cried out a great
deal, praising his generosity and praying for blessings
upon him.
'Behold the sheikh of sheikhs!' they exclaimed.
'He bears gold in his right hand and silver in his left.
Yallah! Send him a long life and prosperity, for he
loves the poor and his name is the Alms-giver. He
is not El Herir but Er Rahman and his heart over-flows
with mercy as his purse does with small coins.[215]
Come, O brothers, and taste of his charity, which is a
perpetual spring of good water beside a palm tree full
of sugar-dates! Ya Abdullah, Servant of Allah, we
love you! You are our father and mother. Your
kefiyeh is the banner which goes before our pilgrimage.
Come, O brothers, and taste of his charity.'
Abdullah was not dissatisfied with these words, and
the beggars said much more to the same effect, which
he regarded as signs of his popularity, so that he
opened his purse from time to time and threw handfuls
of money into the crowd, not counting the cost
since he expected to be master of all the treasure
in Riad within a few days. But the beggars were
disappointed, for they had hoped that he would turn
out to be avaricious, and endeavour to elude them by
walking through narrow and lonely streets, where they
might catch him. So they pressed more and more
upon him every day, trying to exhaust his patience
and his charity. In this however they failed, not
understanding that the vanity of such a man is inexhaustible
and knows no price. Abdullah, too, chose
rather to be abroad during the daytime than in the
evening or the early morning, for he desired to be
seen by the multitude and spoken of as he went
through the market-place. Yet on the last evening of
all he fell into the hands of the Sheikh of the beggars,
and evil befell him.[216]
The hour of prayer was passed and it was almost
the time when lights are extinguished. Then Abdullah
took his sword under his aba, and also a good knife,
which he had proved in battle, and which in his hand
would pierce a coat of mail as though it were silk.
Almasta, his wife, also made a bundle of woman's
clothing and carried it in her arms. For they intended
to go to a lonely place by the city wall, that
Abdullah might there put on female garments, before
entering the palace. He feared, indeed, lest if it were
afterwards known by what disguise he had accomplished
his purpose, he might receive some name in
derision, from which he should never escape so long
as he lived. Yet he had no choice but to dress as
a woman, since he could not otherwise by any means
have gone into the harem.
As he came out of his house, accompanied only by
Almasta he was seen at once by the two beggars who
were always on the watch. And then, wishing to warn
their companions, of whom many were lying asleep
upon doorsteps in the same street and in others close
by, these two made haste to get up, pretending to be
lame and making a great clatter with their staves, as
they limped after Abdullah. Then he, who loved to
exercise charity in the market-place, but not in the
dark where none could applaud him, made a pretence
of not seeing the poor men, and went swiftly on with[217]
Almasta running by his side. But as he walked fast,
the two beggars although apparently lame increased
their speed with his, and their clatter also.
'Does a sound man need a horse to escape from
cripples?' asked Abdullah. And he turned quickly
into a narrow lane.
'It will be wiser to scatter a few coins to them,'
said Almasta. 'They will then stop and search for
them in the dark. For these men are very importunate
and will certainly hinder us.'
But Abdullah was confident in his legs as a strong
man and only walked the faster, so that Almasta could
with great difficulty keep beside him. Then they
heard the beggars running after them in the dark and
calling upon them.
'O Abdullah!' they cried. 'The light of your
charitable countenance goes before us like a lantern,
and illuminates the whole street! Be merciful and
give us a small coin, and Allah will reward you!'
Then Abdullah stopped in the darkest part of the
narrow lane, seeing that they had recognised him, and
conceiving that it would be a reproach for a sheikh of
pure blood to run from beggars; and he feared also that
it would be remembered against him on the morrow.
He therefore made a pretence of being diverted, and
laughed.
'Surely,' he said, 'the lame men of Riad could[218]
outrun in a race the sound men of any other city.
And, by Allah, I have little money with me, for I was
going to a friend's house to receive a sum due to me for
certain mares; yet I will give you what I have, and I
pray you, go in peace.'
Thereupon he sought in his wallet for something to
give them, and while he was seeking they began to
praise him after their manner.
'See this Abdullah!' they said. 'He is the father
of the poor and distressed, and is ever ready to divide
all he has with us. Yallah! Bless him exceedingly!
Yallah! Increase his family!'
But when Abdullah had found the money and was
putting it into their hands, he was suddenly aware that
instead of two beggars there were now ten or more, and
these again multiplied in an extraordinary manner, so
that he felt himself hemmed in on every side in a close
press.
'O Allah!' he exclaimed. 'Thou art witness that
unless these small coins are multiplied a hundredfold,
as the basket of dates by the Prophet at the trench
before Medina, I shall have nothing to give these
worthy persons.'
By this time the blind Sheikh of the beggars was
present, and he pushed forward, pretending to rebuke
his companions.
'O you greedy ones!' he cried. 'How often have[219]
I told you not to be so importunate? Yet you crowd
upon him like wasps upon a date, presuming upon the
goodness of his heart, and when there is no more room
you crowd upon each other. Forgive them, O Abdullah!'
he said, addressing him directly, 'for they
have the appetites of jackals together with the understanding
of little children. They would thrust into
the dish a hand as small as a crow's foot and withdraw
it looking as big as a camel's hoof. Their
manners are also——'
'My friend,' said Abdullah, 'I have given what I
can. Let me therefore pass on, for my business is of
importance, yet the throng is so great that I cannot
move a step. To-morrow I will distribute much alms
to you all.'
'The radiance of your merciful countenance is
enough for us,' replied the Sheikh of the beggars,
'and even I who am blind am comforted by its
rays as by those of the sun in spring, and my
hunger is appeased by the honey of your incomparable
eloquence——'
'My friend,' said Abdullah, interrupting him again,
'I pray you to let me go forward now, for I have a
very important matter in hand, though it is with
difficulty that I tear myself away from your society
and I would willingly listen much longer to the words
of the wise.'[220]
Then the blind man turned to the other beggars,
and his hearing told him that by this time there were
at least threescore in the street.
'Come, my brothers!' he cried. 'Let us accompany
our benefactor to the house of his friend, and
afterwards we will wait for him and see that he
reaches his own dwelling in safety. Surely it is not
fitting that a sheikh of such great consideration
should go about the streets at night without so much
as an attendant carrying a lantern. Let us go with
him.'
Now these last words were the signal agreed upon,
and even as Abdullah began to protest that he desired
no such honourable escort as the beggars offered him,
one came from behind and suddenly drew a thick
barley-sack over his head, so that his voice was heard
no more, and he was dragged down by the throat,
while the one-eyed hunchback caught him by the legs
and bound his feet and four others laid hold of his
hands and tied them firmly behind him. Nor had
Almasta time to utter a single cry before she was
bound hand and foot with her head in a sack, like her
husband. Then at a signal the beggars took up the
two as though they had been bales packed ready for a
camel's back, and carried them away swiftly into the
darkness, towards the eastern gate where the blind
man lived in a ruined house together with three or[221]
four of his most trusted companions. He also sent a
messenger to his relation, the Bedouin, as had been
agreed. It was already quite dark in the streets and
the few persons who met the beggars did not see what
they were carrying, nor ask questions of them, merely
supposing that they had lingered long in the public
square after evening prayers and were now returning
in a body to their own quarter.
The blind man's house was built of three rooms and
a wall, standing in a square around a small court. But
only one of the rooms had a roof of its own, though
there was a sort of cellar under the floor of one of the
others which served at once as a lodging for beggars in
winter, as a storehouse for food when there was any in
supply and as a place of deposit for the ancient iron
chest in which the common fund of money was kept.
To this vault the Sheikh of the beggars made his companions
bring the two prisoners, and having set them
on the floor, side by side, he proceeded to hold a
council, in which the captives themselves had no part,
since their heads were tied up in dusty barley-sacks
and they could not speak so as to be heard.
'O my brothers!' said the blind man. 'Allah has
delivered the enemies of the kingdom into our hand,
and it is necessary to decide what we will do
with them. Let the oldest and the wisest give their
opinions first, and after them the others, even to the[222]
youngest, and last of all I will speak, and let us
see whether we can agree.'
'Let us kill the man and bury him, and then cast
lots among us for the woman,' said one.
'No,' said the next, a man who had twice made the
pilgrimage, and was much respected, 'we cannot do
this, for the man is a true believer, and evil will befall
us if we shed his blood. Let us rather keep him here,
and purify his hide every day with our staves, until
Khaled is in no more danger, and then we will take
him to the palace and deliver him up.'
'It is to be feared,' said the Sheikh of the beggars,
'that the man might chance to die of this sort of purification,
though indeed it be very wholesome for him,
and I am not altogether against it.'
'Let us make him our slave,' said a third who had
himself been the slave of a poor man who had died
without heirs. 'The fellow is strong. Let us buy
millstones and make him grind barley for us in this
cellar. In this way he will not eat our food for
nothing.'
After this many others gave advice of the same
kind. But while they were talking there was a great
clattering and noise upon the stone steps which led
down into the cellar, and a man fell over the last step
and rolled over and over into the very midst of the
council, railing and lamenting.[223]
'It is that ass of Egypt,' said the Sheikh of the
beggars. 'I know him by the clattering of the
wooden hoofs he wears on his hands, and also by his
braying. Let him also give his opinion when he is
recovered from his fall.'
'It is strange and marvellous,' said one, 'that he
who has no legs should suffer so many falls, being, by
the will of Allah, always upon the earth. For when
we first saw him we found him fainting upon the
ground, having fallen from the wall of a garden,
though no man could tell how he had climbed upon
it.'
'I had been transported to the top of the wall as
in a dream,' replied the cripple, 'for there were dates
in that garden. But having eaten too greedily of
them I fell asleep on the top and I dreamed that my
body was torn by hyĉnas; and waking suddenly I fell
down. For the dates were yet green.'
'This may or may not be true,' said the blind man.
'For you are an Egyptian. Let us, however, hear
what you have to advise in the matter of Abdullah
and his wife, whom we have taken prisoners.'
'I fear that you mock me, O my lord,' answered
the man. 'But if I am mocked, I will advise that
this Abdullah be also made a sport of, for us first, and
for the people of Riad afterwards.'
'Tell us how this may be done, for a good jest is[224]
better than salt for roasting, and the sheep lie here
bound before us.'
'Take this man, then,' said the cripple, 'and
uncover his face, and hold him fast. Then let one of
us get the razor and shave off all his beard and his
eyebrows, and the hair of his head even to the nape
of his neck. Then if he came suddenly before her
who bore him and cried, "Mother," she would cover
her face and answer, "Begone, thou ostrich's egg!"
For she would not know him. And to-morrow we
will take his excellent clothes from him and put them
upon our Sheikh. But we will dress Abdullah in
rags such as would not serve to wipe the mud from a
slave's shoes in the time of the subsiding waters, and
we will tie his hands under his arm-pits and put a
halter over his head and lead him about the city.
Then he will cry out against us to the people, saying
that he is Abdullah, but we will also cry out in
answer: "See this madman, who believes himself to
be a sheikh of Bedouins though Allah has given him
no beard! O people of Riad, you may know that the
spring is come, by the braying of this ass."'
'Yet I see now that there may be wisdom in brayings,'
said the Sheikh of the beggars, 'though Balaam ibn
Beor shut his ears against it, and was punished for his
cursing so that his tongue hung down to his breast,
all his days, like that of a thirsty dog. This is good[225]
counsel, for in this way we shall not shed the man's
blood, nor render ourselves guilty of his death; but I
think we shall earn a great reward from Khaled, and
his kingdom will be saved in laughter.'
During all this time Abdullah had not moved,
knowing that he was in the power of many enemies
and beyond all reach of help, but when he heard the
decision of the Sheikh of the beggars he was filled with
shame and rolled himself from side to side upon the
floor, as though trying to escape from the bonds that
held him. Almasta, for her part, lay quietly where
they had put her, for she saw that all chance of
success was gone and was pondering how she might
take advantage of what happened, to save herself.
Then the beggars laid hold of Abdullah and held
him, while others took the sack from his head. He
was indeed half smothered with dust, so that at first
he could not speak aloud, but coughed and sneezed
like a dog that has thrust its nose into a dust-heap to
find the bone which is hidden underneath. But presently
he recovered his breath and began to rail at
them and curse them. To this they paid no attention,
but brought the oil lamp near him, and one began to
rub soap upon his face and head while another got
the razor with which the beggars shaved their heads
and began to whet it upon his leathern girdle.
'Do not waste the precious stones of your eloquence[226]
upon a barber,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, 'but
reserve your breath and the rich treasures of your
speech until you are brought as a plucked bird before
the people of Riad. Moreover we only wish to shave
off your beard, but if you are restless some of your
hide will certainly be removed also, whereby you will
be hurt and it will be still harder for your friends to
recognise you to-morrow. It is also useless to shout
and scream as though you were driving camels, for you
are in the cellar of my house which is at a good distance
from other habitations, on the borders of the
city.'
So Abdullah saw that there was no escape, and
that his fate was about his neck, and he sat still as
they had placed him, while the one-eyed hunchback
shaved off his beard and the hair on his upper lip and
his eyebrows, and the lock at the back of his head.
When this was done the blind man put out his
hand and felt Abdullah's face.
'Surely,' he said, 'this is not a man's head, but
the round end of a walking-staff, rubbed smooth by
much use.'
They also tied his hands under his arm-pits and
put upon him a ragged shirt with sleeves so that he
seemed to have lost both arms at the elbow.
'This is very well done,' said the hunchback
turning his head from side to side in order to see[227]
all with his one eye. 'But what shall we do with the
woman? Let us cast lots for her, and he who wins
her shall marry her, and we will hold the feast immediately,
for we have not yet supped and there is
some of the camel's meat which we received to-day at
the palace.'
'O my brothers,' answered the Sheikh of the
beggars, 'let us do nothing unlawful in our haste.
For this woman is certainly one of Abdullah's wives,
as you may see by her clothes, and unless he divorces
her none of us can take her for ourselves, seeing that
she is the wife of a believer. Take the sack from her
head, however, and if she deafens us with her screaming
we can put it on again. But you must by no
means put her to shame by taking the veil from her
face, for she may be an honest wife, though her
husband be a dog. If she has done well, we shall
find it out, and no harm will have come to her; but
if she is a sharer in this fellow's plans, her punishment
will be grievous, since she will be the wife of
an outcast, having neither beard nor eyebrows and
rejected by all men.'
Some of the beggars murmured at this, but most of
them praised their Sheikh's wisdom, and would indeed
have feared greatly to break the holy law, being chiefly
devout men who prayed daily in the mosque and
listened to the Khotbah on Friday. They therefore[228]
placed Almasta in one corner of the cellar and Abdullah
in another, so that the two could not converse together,
and then they took out such food as they had and
began to eat their supper, laughing and talking over
the jest and anticipating the reward which awaited
them for saving Khaled.
In the meanwhile the night was advancing and
many of Abdullah's friends left their houses secretly
and gathered in the neighbourhood of the palace to
wait for the first signal from within. By threes and
by twos and singly they came out of their dwellings,
looking to the right and left to see whether they were
not the first, as men do who are not sure of being in
the right. All had their swords with them, and some
their bows also, and some few carried their spears, and
they made no secret of their bearing weapons; but
under each man's aba was concealed the largest barley-sack
he could find in his house, and concerning this
no one of the multitude said anything to his neighbour,
for each hoped to get a greater share than the
others of the gold and precious stones from the fabulous
treasure stored in the palace. Then most of these
men sat down to wait, as vultures do before the camel
is quite dead. But not long after the middle of the
night they were joined by a great throng of Bedouins
from Abdullah's tribe. These had been admitted into
the city by the watchman according to the agreement,[229]
and passed up the great street from the Hasa gate, in
a close body, not speaking and making but little noise
with their feet as they walked; yet all of them together
could be heard from a distance, because they
were so many, and the sound was like the night wind
among the branches of dry palm trees. After them,
other Bedouins came in from camps both near and far,
some of them having made half a day's journey since
sunset; and they surrounded the palace on all sides,
and filled the great street, and the street which passes
by the mosque towards the Dereyiyah gate and all the
other approaches to the open square, sitting down
wherever there was room, or leaning against the closed
shops of the bazar, or standing up in a thick crowd
when they were too closely pressed to be at ease.
They talked together from time to time in low tones,
but when their voices rose above a whisper some man
in authority hushed them saying that the hour was
not yet come.
'By this time Abdullah has slain Khaled,' said
some, 'and the daughter of the old Sultan is a
prisoner.'
'And by this time,' said others, 'Abdullah is surely
unlocking the treasure chamber and filling a barley-sack
with pearls and rubies. It is certain that he
who slays the lion deserves his bride, but we hope
that something will be left for us.'[230]
'Hush!' said the voice of one moving in the darkness.
'Be patient. It is not yet time.'
Then, for a space, a deep silence fell on the speakers
and they crouched in their places watching the high
black walls of the palace and marking the motion of
the stars by the highest point of the tower. Before
long whispered words were heard again.
'It would have been more just if Abdullah had
opened the gate to us as soon as he had slain Khaled,
for then we could have seen what he took. But now,
who shall tell us what share of the riches he is hiding
away in the more secret vaults?'
'This is true,' answered others. 'And besides, what
need have we of Abdullah to help us into the palace?
Surely we could have broken down the gates and slain
the guards and Khaled himself without Abdullah's
help. Yet we, for our part, would not shed the blood
of a man who has always dealt very generously with
us, nor do we believe the story of the camels laden
secretly in Haïl. However, what is ordained will take
place, and we shall undoubtedly receive plentiful gold
merely for sitting here to watch the stars through the
night.'
'The story of the camels is not true,' said a certain
man, speaking alone. 'For I was of the drivers
sent with them, and being hungry, we opened one of
the bales on the way. By Allah! There was nothing[231]
but wheat in it, and it was white and good; but
there was nothing else, not so much as a few small
coins——'
Then there was the sound of a blow, and the man
who was speaking was struck on the mouth, so that
his speech was interrupted.
'Peace and be silent!' said a voice. 'They who
speak lies will receive no share with the rest when the
time comes.'
But the man who had been struck was the strongest
of all his tribe, though he who had struck him
did not know it. And the man caught his assailant
by the waist in the dark, and wrestled with him
violently, being very angry, and broke his forearm and
his collar-bone and several of his ribs, and when he
had done with him, he threw him over his shoulder so
that he fell fainting and moaning three paces away.
'O you who strike honest men on the mouth in
the dark, you have been over-rash!' he cried. 'Go
home and hide yourself lest I recognise you and break
such bones as you have still whole!'
'This is well done,' said one of the bystanders in a
loud voice. 'For the story of the camels laden secretly
with treasure is a lie. I also was with the drivers
and ate of the wheat. Nor do I believe that Khaled
is a robber and a Persian.'
'We do not believe it!' cried a score of Bedouins[232]
together. 'And if we have come here, it is to get our
share like other men, since they tell us that Khaled is
dead. But now we believe that Abdullah has shut
himself into the palace and means to keep all for himself,
and is cheating us.'
These men were none of them of Abdullah's tribe,
but as the voices grew louder, Abdullah's kinsmen
came up, and endeavoured to quiet the growing tumult.
The crowd had parted a little and the strong man
stood alone in the midst.
'We pray you to be patient,' said Abdullah's men,
'for the time is at hand and the false dawn has already
passed, though you have not seen it, so that before
long it will be day. Then the gates will be opened
and you shall all go in.'
'We have no need of your sheikh to open gates for
us,' said the strong man, in a voice that could be heard
very far through the crowd. 'And moreover it will
be better for you not to strike any more of us, or, by
Allah, we will not only break your bones but shed
your blood.'
At this there was a sullen cry and men sprang to
their feet and laid their hands upon their weapons.
But a youth who had come up with Abdullah's kinsmen,
though not one of them, bent very low over the
man who had been thrown down and then spoke out
with a loud and laughing voice.[233]
'Truly they say that crows lead people to the
carcases of dogs!' he said. 'This fellow is of the
family which murdered my father, upon whom may
Allah send peace! Nor will I exceed the bounds of
moderation and justice.'
Thereupon the young man drew out his knife and
immediately killed his father's enemy as he lay upon
the ground, and then he withdrew quickly into the
dark crowd so that none knew him. But though there
was only the light of the stars and the multitude was
great, many had seen the deed and each man stood
closer by his neighbour and grasped his weapon to be
in readiness. The kinsmen of Abdullah saw that they
were separated from their own tribe and drew back,
warning the others to keep the peace and be silent,
lest they should be cut off from their share of the
spoil. But their voices trembled with fears for their
own safety, and they were answered by scornful shouts
and jeers.
'The young man says well that you are crows,'
cried the angry men, 'for you wish to keep the carcase
for yourselves. Come and take it if you are able!'
Now indeed the quarrel which had been begun by
the blow struck in the dark spread suddenly to great
dimensions, for the words spoken were caught up as
grains of sand by the wind and blown into all men's
ears. Many were ready enough to believe that Abdullah[234]
cared only for enriching himself and his tribe,
and many more who had been persuaded to the enterprise
by the hope of gain turned again to their faith
in Khaled as the dream of gold disappeared from their
eyes. Yet Abdullah's tribe was numerous, and it was
easy to see that if the dissension grew into a strife of
arms the fight would be long and fierce on both sides.
Then certain of those who were against Abdullah
raised the cry that he had slain Khaled and escaped
with the treasure by a secret passage leading under
the walls of the city, which passage was spoken of in
old tales, though no one knew where to find it. But
the multitude believed and pressed forward in a
strong body and began to beat against the iron-bound
gate of the palace with great stones and pieces of
wood. Abdullah's men came on fiercely to prevent
them, but were opposed by many, and as the wing of
night was lifted and the dawn drank the stars, the
wide square was filled with the clashing of arms and
the noise of a terrible tumult.
[235]
CHAPTER XII
At the time when the beggars were carrying away
Abdullah and his wife, Khaled was sitting in his
accustomed place, silent and heavy at heart, and
Zehowah played softly to him upon a barbat and sang
a sad song in a low voice. For she saw that gloominess
had overcome him and she feared to disturb his
mood, though she would gladly have made him smile
if she had been able.
A black slave of Khaled's whom he had treated
with great kindness had secretly told him that there
was a plan to enter the palace with evil during that
night, for the fellow had spied upon those who knew
and had overheard what he now told his master.
He had also asked whether he should not warn the
guards of the palace, in order that a strict watch should
be kept, but Khaled had bidden him be silent.
'Either the guards are conspiring with the rest,'
said Khaled, 'and will be the first to attack me, or
they are ignorant of the plan; and if so how can they
withstand so great a multitude? I will abide by my[236]
own fate, and no man shall lose his life for my sake
unless he desires to do so.'
But he privately put on a coat of mail under his
aba, and when he sat down in the harem to await
the end he would not let Zehowah take his sword, but
laid it upon his feet and sat upright against the wall,
looking towards the door.
'Since I have no soul,' he said to himself, 'this is probably
the end of all things. But there is no reason why I
should not kill as many of these murderers as possible.'
He was gloomy and desponding, however, since he
saw that his hour was at hand, and that Zehowah was
no nearer to loving him than before. He watched her
fingers as she played upon the instrument, and he
listened to the soft notes of her voice.
'It is a strange thing,' he thought, 'and I believe
that she is not able to love, any more than my sword
upon my feet, which is good and true and beautiful,
and ever ready to my hand, but is itself cold, having
no feeling in it.'
Still Zehowah sang and Khaled heard her song,
listening watchfully for a man's tread upon the
threshold and looking to see a man's face and the
light of steel in the shadow beyond the lamps.
'The night is long,' he said at last, aloud.
'It is not yet midnight,' Zehowah answered. 'But
you are tired. Will you not go to rest?'[237]
'I shall rest to-morrow,' said Khaled. 'To-night I
will sit here and look at you, if you will sing to me.'
Zehowah gazed into his eyes, wondering a little at
his exceeding sadness. Then she bowed her head and
struck the strings of the instrument to a new measure
more melancholy than the last, and sang an old song
of many verses, with a weeping refrain.
'Are you also heavy at heart to-night?' Khaled
asked, when he had listened to the end.
'It is not easy to kindle a lamp when the rain is
falling heavily,' Zehowah said. 'Your sadness has
taken hold of me, like the chill of a fever. I cannot
laugh to-night.'
'And yet you have a good cause, for they say
that to-night the earth is to be delivered of a great
malefactor, a certain Persian, whose name is perhaps
Hassan, a notorious robber.'
Khaled turned away his head, smiling bitterly, for
he desired not to see the satisfaction which would
come into her face.
'This is a poor jest,' she answered in a low voice,
and the barbat rolled from her knees to the carpet
beside her.
'I mean no jesting, for I do not desire to disappoint
you, since you will naturally be glad to be freed
from me. But I am glad if you are willing to sing
to me, for this night is very long.'[238]
'Do you think that I believe this of you?' asked
Zehowah, after some time.
'You believed it yesterday, you believe it to-day,
and you will believe it to-morrow when you are free
to make choice of some other man—whom you will
doubtless love.'
'Yet I know that it is not true,' she said suddenly.
'It is too late,' Khaled answered. 'The more I
love you, the more I see how little faith you have in
me—and the less faith can I put in you. Will you sing
to me again?'
'This is very cruel and bitter.' Zehowah sighed and
looked at him.
'Will you sing to me again, Zehowah?' he repeated.
'I like your sad music.'
Then she took up the barbat from the carpet, but
though she struck a chord she could not go on and
her hand lay idle upon the strings, and her voice was
still.
'You are perhaps tired,' said Khaled after some
time. 'Then lay aside the instrument and sleep.' He
composed himself in his seat, his sword being ready
and his eyes towards the door.
But Zehowah shook her head as though awaking
from a dream, her fingers ran swiftly over the strings
and gentle tones came from her lips. Khaled listened
thoughtfully to the song and the words soothed him,[239]
but before she had reached the end, she stopped
suddenly.
'Why do you not finish it?' he asked.
'If you have told me truth,' she answered, 'this is
no time for singing and music. But if not, why
should I labour to amuse you, as though I were a
slave? I will call one of the women who has a sweet
voice and a good memory. She will sing you a kasid
which will last till morning.'
'You are wrong,' said Khaled. 'There is no reason
in what you say.'
But he reflected upon her nature, while he spoke.
'Surely,' he thought, 'there is nothing in the world
so contradictory as a woman. I ask of her a song and
she is silent. I bid her rest, supposing her to be
weary, and she sings to me. If I tell her that I hate
her she will perhaps answer that she loves me. Min
Allah! Let us see.'
'You inspire hatred in me,' he said aloud, after a
few moments.
At this Zehowah was very much astonished, and
she again let the barbat fall from her knees.
'You wished me to believe that you loved me, and
this not long since,' she answered.
'It may be so. I did not know you then.'
He looked towards the door as though he would
say nothing further. Zehowah sighed, not understanding[240]
him yet being wounded in that sensitive tissue of
the heart which divides the outer desert of pride from
the inner garden of love, belonging to neither but
separating the two as a veil. And when there is a
rent in that veil, pride looks on love and scoffs
bitterly, and love looks on pride and weeps tears of
fire.
'I am sorry that you hate me,' she said, but the
words were bitter in her mouth as a draught from a
spring into which the enemy have cast wormwood,
that none may drink of it.
'Allah is great!' thought Khaled. 'This is
already an advantage.'
Then Zehowah took up the barbat and began to
sing a careless song not like any which Khaled had
ever heard. This is the song—
'The fisherman of Oman tied the halter under his arms,
The sky was as blue as the sea in winter.
The fisherman dived into the deep waters
As a ray of light shoots through a sapphire of price.
The sea was as blue as the sky, for it was winter.
Among the rocks below the water it was dark and cold
Though the sky above was as blue as a fine sapphire.
The fisherman saw a rough shell lying there in the dark between two crabs,
"In that shell there must be a large pearl," he said.
But when he would have taken it the crabs ran together and fastened upon his hand.
His heart was bursting in his ribs for lack of breath
And he thought of the sky above, as blue as the sea in winter.
[241]
So he pulled the halter and was taken half-fainting into the boat.
The crabs held his hand but he struck them off,
And his heart beat merrily as he breathed the wind
Blowing over the sea as blue as the sky in winter.
"There are no pearls in this ocean," he said to his companions,
"But there are crabs if any one cares to dive."
One of them saw the shell caught between the legs of the crabs,
He opened it and found a pearl of the value of a kingdom.
"The pearl is mine, but you may eat the crabs," he said to the fisherman,
"Since you say there are no pearls in this ocean,
Which is as blue as the sky in winter."
Then the fisherman smote him and tried to take the pearl,
But as they strove it fell into the deep water and sank,
Where the sea was as blue as the sky in winter.
"I will drown you with a heavy weight," said the fisherman, "for you have robbed me of my fortune."
"I have not robbed you, O brother, for the pearl is again where you found it,
In the sea which is as blue as the sky in winter."
Then the fisherman dived again many times in vain
Till the drums of his ears were broken and his heart was dissolved for lack of breath.
But the pearl is still there, at the bottom of the sea,
And the sea is as blue as the sky in winter.
This is the kasid of the fisherman of Oman
Which Zehowah Bint ul Mahomed el Hamid
Has made and sung for her lord, Khaled the Sultan.
May Allah send him long life and many such hearts
As the one which fell into the ocean
When the sky was as blue as the sea in winter.'
[242]
'This is a new song,' said Khaled, when she had
finished.
'Is it? I made it many months ago,' Zehowah
answered. 'Does it please you?'
'It is not very melodious, nor do I think there
is much truth in the matter of it. But I thank you,
for it has served to pass the time.'
Zehowah laughed a little scornfully.
'I daresay you would prefer the song of a Persian
nightingale,' she said. 'Nevertheless my song is full
of truth, though you cannot see it. There are many
who seek for things of great value and do not know
when they have found them because a crab has bitten
their hands.'
'Verily,' thought Khaled, 'this is indeed the spirit
of contradiction.'
But he was silent for a time, not wishing that she
should think him easily moved. In the meantime
Zehowah played softly upon the little instrument and
Khaled watched her, wondering whether she were not
playing upon the strings of his heart, for her own
pleasure, as skilfully as her fingers ran upon the chords
of the barbat. Many words rose to his lips then, and
he wished that he also had the science of music that
he might sing sweetly to her. Then he laughed aloud
at his own imagination, which was indeed that of a
foolish youth.[243]
'The lion roaring for a sweetmeat,' he thought,
'and the sword-hand aching to scratch little tunes
upon a lute!'
Zehowah turned suddenly when he laughed, and
ceased from playing.
'I am glad that you are merry,' she said. 'I like
laughter better than reproaches and prefer it to gloomy
forebodings of evil when none is at hand.'
Khaled's face grew dark, and he looked again
towards the door.
'If you will stay with me, you shall see that evil is
not far off,' he answered, for she had reminded him of
what he was expecting, and he knew that it was no
jesting matter. 'But you shall please yourself in this
as in all other matters, though it were better for you
to go now and shut yourself up in an inner room and
wait for the end. The night is advancing, and all
will soon be over.'
'Hear me, Khaled,' said Zehowah, speaking earnestly.
'If you bid me go, I will go, or if you desire me to
stay, I will remain with you. But if you are indeed
in danger, as you say, let us call up the guards and the
watchmen who sleep in the palace, that they may stand
by you with their swords and help you to fight if there
is to be strife.'
'I will have no treacherous fellows about me,'
Khaled answered, 'and there are none here whom I can[244]
trust. My hour is coming and I will fight this fight
alone. But if you were such as I once hoped, I would
say: "Remain with me, so long as you are safe."
Now, since Allah has willed it thus, I say to you:
"Go and seek safety where you can find it." Go,
therefore, Zehowah, and leave me alone, for I need
no one beside me, and you least of all.'
He turned away his head, lest she should see his
face, and with his hand made a gesture bidding her to
leave him. She rose from her seat softly and hung
the barbat upon the wall with the other musical
instruments, looking over her shoulder to see whether
he would call her back. But he neither moved nor
spoke, being resolved to venture all upon this trial,
for he knew that if she loved him even but a little,
she would not leave him alone in the extremity of
danger.
Then she went towards the door of the room, turning
her head to look at him as she passed near him.
'Farewell,' she said. But he did not answer nor
show that he heard her voice.
As she lifted the curtain to go out, she lingered
and gazed at him. He sat motionless upon the carpet,
upright against the wall, his sword lying across his
feet, his hands hidden under his sleeves, looking
towards her indeed but not seeming to see her.
'There can be no real danger,' she thought. 'Could[245]
any man sit thus, expecting death, and refusing to let
any one stand by him to fight with him? Surely, he
is playing with me, and setting a trap for me. But
he shall not catch me.'
She turned to go and the curtain was falling
behind her when the night wind from the open passage
brought a sound to her ears from a far distance. She
started and listened, as camels do when they hear the
first moving of the hot wind. There were no voices
in the noise, which was low and dull, like the breathing
of a great multitude and the soft moving of feet,
and altogether it was as the slow rising and falling
back of the sea upon the shores of Oman, when the
great summer storm is coming from the south-west.
Zehowah stood still a moment and drank in every
murmur that reached her from without. Then her
face grew white and her lips trembled when she
thought of Khaled sitting alone on the other side of
the curtain, with his sword upon his feet, waiting for
the end. She lifted the hanging a little and looked
at him again. He saw her, but made no sign. Even
as she looked, the distant murmur grew louder and
she fancied that he moved his head as though he
heard it. Then she entered the room and came and
stood before him.
'There is a great multitude in the square before
the palace,' she said.[246]
'I know it,' he answered, calmly looking up to her
face. 'It needed not that you should tell me.'
'Will you not let me stay with you now?' asked
Zehowah.
'Why should you stay here?' he asked with a
pretence of indifference. 'Of what use are you to
me? Take this sword. Can you strike with it?
Your wrist is feeble. Or take a bow from the
weapons on the wall. Can you draw the string?
Your strength is sufficient for the lute, and your skill
for scratching the strings of the barbat. Go and save
yourself. I am alone and every man's hand is against
me.'
Zehowah stood still in the room and hesitated,
looking into his eyes for something which she all at
once desired with a hot thirst. At last she spoke in
an uncertain voice.
'Yet you said not long since that if I were such as
you once hoped, you would bid me remain.'
'I do not care,' he answered. 'Yet for your own
sake, I advise you to go away.'
'For my own sake!' she repeated, trying to speak
scornfully, and turning to go a second time.
But she did not reach the door. She stood still
before the weapons which hung upon the wall, and
paused a moment and then took a sword from its
place. Khaled watched her. She grasped the hilt as[247]
well as she could and swung the weapon in the air
once with all her might. Then she uttered a little
cry of pain, for she had twisted her wrist. The
sword fell to the floor.
'He is right,' she said in a low tone, speaking
aloud to herself. 'I am weak and can be of no use
to him.'
She went on once more towards the door, slowly,
her head bent down, then stopped and then looked
back again. She feared that she might see a smile on
his face, but his eyes were grave and calm. Then he
saw her turn and lean against the wall as though she
were suddenly weak. She hid her face, and there was
silence for a moment, and after that a low sound of
weeping filled the still room.
'Why do you shed tears?' Khaled asked presently.
'There is no danger for you, I think. If you will go
and shut yourself in the inner rooms you will be safe.'
She turned fiercely and their eyes met.
'What do I care for myself?' she cried. 'Among
so many deaths there is surely one for me!'
Even as she spoke Khaled felt a cool breath upon
his forehead, stirring the stillness. He knew that it
came from the beating of an angel's wings. All his
body trembled, his head fell forward a little and his
eyes closed.
'This is death,' he thought, 'and my fate has come.[248]
A little longer, and she would have loved me.' But
he did not speak aloud.
Again Zehowah's face was turned towards the wall,
and still the sound of her weeping filled the air, not
subsiding and dying away, but rather increasing with
every moment.
'Life is not yet gone,' said Khaled in his heart.
'There is yet hope.' For he no longer felt the cold
breath on his forehead, and the trembling had ceased
for a moment.
He tried to speak aloud, but his lips could not
form words nor his throat utter sounds, and he was
amazed at his weakness. A great despair came upon
him and his eyes were darkened so that he could not
see the lights.
'If only I could speak to her now, she might love
me yet!' he thought.
The distant murmur from without was louder now
and reached the room, and he heard it. He tried with
all his might to raise his hand, to lift his head, to
speak a single word.
'It may be that this is the nature of death,' he
thought again, 'and I am already dead.'
The noise from the multitude came louder and
louder. Zehowah heard it and her breath was caught
in her throat. She looked up and saw that the high
window of the chamber was no longer quite dark.[249]
The day was dawning. Then pressing her bosom with
her hands she looked again at Khaled. His head was
bent upon his breast and he was so still that she
thought he had fallen asleep. A cry broke from her
lips.
'He cares not!' she exclaimed. 'What is it to
him, whether I go, or stay?'
Again Khaled felt the cool breeze in the room,
fanning his forehead, and once more his limbs trembled.
Then he felt that his strength was returning and that
he could move. He raised his head and looked at
Zehowah, and just then there was a distant crashing
roar, as the Bedouins began to strike upon the gates.
'It is time,' he said, and taking his sword in his
hand he rose from his seat.
Zehowah came towards him with outstretched
hands, wet cheeks and burning eyes. She stood
before him as though to bar the way, and hinder him
from going out.
'What is it to you, whether I go, or stay?' he
asked, repeating her own words.
'What is it? By Allah, it is all my life—I will
not let you go!' And she took hold of his wrists
with her weak woman's hands, and tried to thrust
him back.
'Go, Zehowah,' he answered, gently pressing her
from him. 'Go now, and let me meet them alone,[250]
knowing that you are safe. For though this be pity
which you feel, I know it is nothing more.'
He would have passed by her, but still she held
him and kept before him.
'You shall not go!' she cried. 'I will prevent
you with my body. Pity, you say? Oh, Khaled!
Is pity fierce? Is pity strong? Does pity burn like
fire? You shall not go, I say!'
Then her hands grew cold upon his wrists, her
cheeks burned and in her eyes there was a deep and
gleaming light. All this Khaled felt and saw, while
he heard the raging of the multitude without. His
sight grew again uncertain. A third time the cool
breath blew in his face.
'Yet it cannot be love,' he said uncertainly. Yet
she heard him.
'Not love? Khaled, Khaled—my life, my breath,
my soul—breath of my life, life of my spirit—oh,
Khaled, you have never loved as I love you now!'
Her hands let go his wrists and clasped about his
neck, and her face was hidden upon his shoulder
while her breath came and went like the gusts of the
burning storm in summer.
But as he held her, Khaled looked up and saw
that the Angel of Allah was before him, having a
smiling countenance and bearing in his hand a bright
flame like the crescent moon.[251]
'It is well done, O Khaled,' said the Angel, 'and
this is thy reward. Allah sends thee this to be thy
own and to live after thy body, saying that thou hast
well earned it, for love such as thou hast got now is a
rare thing, not common with women and least of all
with wives of kings. And now Allah alone knows
what thy fate is to be, but thou shalt be judged at the
end like other men, according to thy deeds, be they
good or evil. And so receive thy soul and do with it
as thou wilt.'
The Angel then held out the flame which was like
the crescent moon and it immediately took shape and
became the brighter image of Khaled himself, endowed
with immortality, and the knowledge of its own good
and evil. And when Khaled had looked at it fixedly
for a moment, being overcome with joy, the vision of
himself disappeared, and he was aware that it had
entered his own body and taken up its life within him.
'Return thanks to Allah, and go thy way to the
end,' said the Angel, who then unfolded his wings and
departed to paradise whence he had come.
But Khaled clasped Zehowah tightly in his arms,
and looking upwards repeated the first chapter of the
Koran and also the one hundred and tenth chapter,
which is entitled, Assistance. When he had performed
these inward devotions he turned his gaze
upon Zehowah and kissed her.[252]
'Praise be to Allah,' he said, 'for this and all
blessings. But now let us defend ourselves if we can,
my beloved, for I think my enemies are at hand.'
And so he would have stooped to take up his
sword which had fallen upon the floor. But still
Zehowah held him and would not let him go.
'Not yet, Khaled!' she cried. 'Not yet, soul of
my soul! The gates are very strong, and will withstand
this battering for some time.'
'Would you have him whom you love sit still in
the net until the hunters come to catch him?' he
asked in a tender voice.
'You said you would wait here,' she pleaded. 'If
we must die, let us die here—our life will be a little
longer so.'
'Did I say so? I thought you did not love me
then, and I would have slain a few only, for my own
sake, that my blood might not be unavenged. But
now I will slay them all, for your sake, and the
bodies of the dead shall be a rampart for you.'
'Oh, do not go!' she cried again. 'I know a
secret passage from the palace, that leads out by the
wall of the city—come quickly, there is yet time, and
we shall escape—for Allah will protect us. Surely,
when I was fainting in your arms I heard an angel's
voice—and surely the angel is yet with us, and will
lighten the way as we go.'[253]
'The Angel was indeed here, for he brought me the
soul that was promised, if you loved me. And now
all is changed, for if we live, we get the victory and if
we die we shall inherit paradise.'
And Zehowah looked into his eyes and saw the
living soul flaming within, and she believed him.
'If you had always been as you are now, I should
have always loved you,' she said softly, and stooping
down she took up his sword and drew it out and put
it into his hand. 'I tried to wield one when you
were not looking,' she said, 'but it hurt my wrist.
Come, Khaled—let us go together.'
Then he kissed her once more, and she kissed him,
and putting one arm about her, he led her swiftly out
by the passage towards the great gate. It was now
broad dawn and the light was coming in by the
narrow windows.
Zehowah clung to Khaled closely, for the noise of
the thundering blows was terrible and deafening, and
the multitude without were shouting to each other and
calling upon Abdullah to come out, for they supposed
him to be in the palace. But the guards and soldiers
within had all hidden themselves though they were
awake, for there was no one to command them nor to
lead them, and they dared not open the gate lest
they themselves should be slain in the first rush of the
crowd.[254]
Then Khaled and Zehowah paused for a moment
near the gate.
'It is better that you should go back, my beloved,'
said Khaled. 'Hear what a multitude of angry men
are waiting outside.'
'I will not leave you—neither in life nor in
death,' she answered.
'Let it be so, then,' said Khaled, 'and I will do my
best. For a hundred men could not stop the way
before me now, and I think that of five hundred I
could slay many.'
So he went up to the gate, and Zehowah stood a
little behind him so as to be free of the first sweep of
his sword.
'Abdullah!' cried some of the crowd without, while
battering at the iron-bound doors. 'Abdullah, thou
son of Mohammed and father of lies, come out to us,
or we will go to thee!'
'Abdullah, thou thief, thou Persian, thou cheat,
come out, and may boiling water be thy portion!'
'Stand back from the gate, and I will open it to
you!' cried Khaled in a voice that might have been
heard across the Red Desert as far as the shores of the
great ocean.
'I, Khaled, will open,' he cried again.
Then there was a great silence and the people fell
back a little.[255]
Khaled drew the bolts and unfastened the locks,
and opened the gates inward and stood forth alone in
the morning light, his sword in his hand and his soul
burning in his eyes.
'Khaled!' cried the first who saw him, and the
cry was taken up.
The shout was great, and full of joy and shook the
earth. For the multitude had grown hot in anger
against Abdullah, while they battered at the gates, supposing
that he had slain Khaled. But he himself could
not at first distinguish whether they were angry or glad.
'If any man wishes to take my life,' he cried, 'let
him come and take it.'
And the sword they all knew in battle, began to
make a storm of lightning about his head in the
morning sun.
Then the strong man who had wrestled and thrown
the other before dawn, stood out alone and spoke in a
loud voice.
'We will have no Sultan but Khaled!' he cried.
'Give us Abdullah that we may make trappings for
our camels from his skin.'
Then Khaled sheathed his sword and came forward
from under the gate, and Zehowah stood veiled beside
him.
'Where is this Abdullah?' he asked. 'Find him
if you can, for I would like to speak with him.'[256]
Then there was silence for a space. But by this
time Abdullah's men had fled, for they had already
been forced back in the crowding, and so soon as they
saw Khaled standing unhurt under the palace gate,
they turned quickly and ran for their lives to escape
from the city, seeing that all was lost.
'Where is Abdullah?' Khaled asked again.
And a voice from afar off answered, as though
heralding the coming of a great personage.
'Behold Abdullah, the Sultan of Nejed!' it cried.
Then the multitude turned angrily, grasping swords
and spears and breathing curses. But the murmur
broke suddenly into a shout of laughter louder even
than the cry for Khaled had been. For a great procession
had entered the square and the people made
way for it as it advanced towards the palace.
First came a score of lepers, singing in hideous
voices and dancing in the early sun, filthy and loathsome
to behold. And then came all manner of
cripples, laughing and chattering, with coloured rags
fastened to their staves, an army of distorted apes.
Then, walking alone and feeling his way with his
staff came the Sheikh of the beggars. And in one
hand he held the end of a halter, which was fastened
about Abdullah's head and neck and between his
teeth, so that he could not cry out. And the blind
man chanted a kasid which he had composed in the[257]
night in honour of Abdullah ibn Mohammed el Herir,
the victorious Sultan of Nejed.
'Upon whom may Allah send much boiling water,'
sang the Sheikh of the beggars after each stave.
And Abdullah, his head and face shaven as bald as
an ostrich's egg, was bent by the weight he carried, for
upon his shoulders rode the cripple whom they called
the Ass of Egypt, clapping the wooden shoes he used
on his hands, like cymbals to accompany the song of
the blind man. And last of all came a veiled woman,
walking sadly, for she could not escape, being surrounded
and driven on by many scores of beggars, all
dancing and shouting and crying out mock praises of
the Sultan Abdullah and his wife.
But as the procession moved on the laughter
increased a hundredfold, until all men's eyes were
blind with mirth, and their breasts were bursting and
aching with so much merriment.
At last the Sheikh of the beggars stood before
Khaled holding the halter. And here he made a deep
obeisance, pulling the halter so that Abdullah nearly
fell to the ground.
'In the name of the beggars,' he said, 'I present
to your high majesty the Sultan of Nejed, Abdullah
ibn Mohammed, and his chief minister the Ass of
Egypt, and moreover the sultan's wife. May it
please your high majesty to reward the beggars with[258]
a few small coins and a little barley, for having
brought his high majesty, the new sultan, safely to
the gate of the palace and to the steps of the throne.'
Thereupon all the beggars, the lepers, the cripples,
the blind men and those of weak understanding fell
down together at Khaled's feet.
This is the story of Khaled the believing genius,
which he caused to be written down in letters of gold
by the most accomplished scribe in Nejed, that all men
might remember it. But of what afterwards occurred
there is nothing told in the scribe's manuscript. It is
recounted, however, in the commentaries of one Abd
ul Latif that Khaled did not cause Abdullah to be
beheaded, nor in any way hurt, save that he was
driven out of the city with his wife, where certain
Bedouins affirmed that he lived for many years with
her in great destitution. But it is well known that
after this Zehowah bore Khaled many strong sons,
whose children and children's children reigned gloriously
for many generations in Nejed. And Khaled
and Zehowah died full of years on the same day, and
lie buried together in a garden without the Hasa gate,
and the pilgrims from Ajman and the east visit their
tombs even to the present time.
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
[259]
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[260]
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[261]
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[262]
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[263]
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[264]
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[265]
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[266]
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[267]
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[268]
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Transcriber's Notes:
Minor punctuation corrections have been made without comment.
A Table of Contents has been created by the transcriber to aid reader
navigation in this e-text.
Word Variations:
"carcase(s)" (2) (Br. sp.) and "carcass" (1)
"Khaled ibn Walid" (1) and "Khaled ibn Walad" (1)
(both referred to as "the Sword of the Lord")
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