Chapter Thirty Three.A Penalty of Beauty.The glimmer of sunset struggling through the chink above faded quickly. Upon my strained ears the sound of hurrying footsteps fell, but again died away. My pursuers were returning after their fruitless errand. Yet would they relinquish the search now they knew a stranger held their secrets?The conspiracy was against Christians in general and the power of France in Algeria and Tunis in particular, therefore they knew that if the military authorities in Algiers were acquainted with the facts, the great Army of Africa would be held in readiness to crush the revolt in its earliest stages. No doubt the memory of the great insurrection which commenced at Souk Ahras in 1871, and which eventually proved so disastrous to them, had not yet been obliterated, and they still recollected how, although the revolt spread everywhere through Kabylia at the word of the Sheikh el-Haddad, yet their people had struggled in vain against the invaders, and the standard of Al-Islâm was at last torn down by the Infidels, and their mosques were defiled by their conquerors’ feet. Since that day, Turcos, Spahis, Zouaves, artillery, and infantry had posts everywhere throughout the French sphere of influence, and conspiracy was punishable by the guillotine. True, the plot I had discovered was being perfected beyond the frontier, yet the conspirators were no doubt members of a tribe under French rule, therefore amenable to the laws of their conquerors. Thoughts such as these caused me to reflect that these men who had schemed revenge were not likely to content themselves with the knowledge that I had escaped. If, as I supposed, I was still in the ruined Hall of the Great Death, it would be impossible for a man to get away unnoticed, the ruins being situated on high ground in the centre of a barren wilderness. But evidently they were unaware of the existence of that secret chamber, and doubtless they considered my sudden disappearance most remarkable.As, however, the dead silence remained unbroken, I at length resolved to wait patiently till the morrow, and in the pitch darkness groped my way towards my couch. The violent exertion had almost exhausted me, and I sat for some time feeling very faint and ill. My wound pained me considerably, for the bandages had shifted and haemorrhage had again been produced. Presently, however, I felt better, and after a draught of water and a few dates, I stretched myself and fell asleep.Until the streak of sunlight told me that the noon had passed, I waited patiently, with ears open to catch every sound, and, hearing nothing, I at last resolved to make another dash for liberty. Placing some food and the leathern case containing my prize in my sash, I pushed forth the stone drawer gently and crept through its narrow aperture. Gaining the dark passage, I hesitated for a few seconds, then decided to explore it in the opposite direction, for I had no intention of again approaching the chamber wherein the secret rites had been performed. A few feet from where I had emerged, the passage, like a rabbit’s burrow, declined steeply, and grew so narrow and low that I was compelled to stoop. Advance was difficult in the darkness, yet I crept on, hoping to arrive eventually at some exit. To my disappointment, however, the passage penetrated still deeper into the earth, and gradually narrowed until I was compelled to creep along on all fours. The atmosphere was choking, and I began to fear asphyxiation.Suddenly I emerged into what appeared to be a larger space, and my feet struck stone steps. Finding I could now stand upright again, I ascended, wondering whither they might lead. Not a ray of light showed, and in the darkness I stumbled onward, for the steep stairs were worn and in some places fallen away. As I toiled upward, the air seemed more fresh, and I felt that in the immediate vicinity there must be some outlet from that subterranean labyrinth. Gaining the top, I groped about until I felt a door strengthened by strips of iron. It was small, but very heavy. What, I wondered, did it conceal?Discovering a handle, I slowly turned it. To my satisfaction, the door yielded noiselessly, and I found myself in a great luxuriously-furnished chamber, the air of which was fragrant with attar of rose and the downy divans were of pale yellow silk.Scarce daring to enter, I paused. It was, I could see, a woman’s apartment.A man’s deep voice was raised in anger, and I saw lying in a lazy attitude on a divan before me, with her hair unbound, a beautiful girl with face unveiled. She was richly dressed in silk of palest heliotrope, with a heavy golden girdle and a tiny sleeveless zouave jacket of rose-pink velvet, heavily trimmed with gold. Her skin was as fair as an Englishwoman’s, but her eyebrows were darkened with kohl, and her forehead was almost hidden beneath its sequins. A dainty little fez trimmed with seed pearls was set jauntily upon her handsome head, and as she lay, one bare foot hanging over the edge of the divan in an attitude full of languid grace, she toyed with her rings, and her bejewelled breast heaved and fell in a long, heavy sigh.Her companion, a well-dressed Arab, tall, long past middle life, with a face in which brutality was strongly marked, was striding up and down the sweet-scented apartment, hurling at her fearful imprecations and insults, and expressing profound disgust that he had ever stooped to caress her.My feet fell so noiselessly upon the soft carpet that neither had noticed my entrance, therefore I stepped back, re-closing the door, but leaving it ajar, in order that I might witness the domestic disagreement.“Thine harsh words wound more deeply than thy blows,” she observed, with a sigh, as the man paused to gain breath.“By my beard, wench! thou art verily the off-scum of Eblis, upon whom the mercy of the One Merciful can never rest! Thou hidest in thine heart secrets, and refusest to tell me that which I demand. I will degrade thee, woman, to the meanest slavery; thou shalt wash the feet of those who have been thy slaves. Though thou art a beauteous damsel—a houri fitted for the Sultan of the Ahír—thou—”“Hast thou lived thy threescore years, and failed to discover that sometimes the face is not an index to the mind?” she interrupted, with a flippant air.“With thee, accursed betrayer of secrets and worker of iniquity, have I learned that soft caresses may prove as the coils of a venomous serpent, and that a woman’s lips may conceal poison!” he cried, halting before her with clenched fist.Throwing her head back upon her silken cushion, she laughed at his passion.“Thou thinkest that thou hast cleverly deceived me—eh?” he hissed. “Thy dark eyes sparkle like the stars, because thou, thrice-cursed offspring of Satan, knowest that—that I have been fooled, tricked by thee, who hast received from me every luxury! Had it not been for me, thou wouldst have been at this moment the slave of some common camel-driver, and—”“Even that would have been preferable to imprisonment within thine harem. Would that thine accursed generosity had been showered upon some other woman than upon me,” she cried, rousing herself and looking straight and fearlessly into his angry, bearded visage. “True, in return for thy favours, I have tried to love thee. Thou hast been pleased to exalt me to be chief of thy wives, to bestow upon me jewels of great price, and to place me above those who were envious because their faces pleased thee not. Towards thee I have been faithful, and I have ever kept thy private affairs locked within my bosom.”“And thou hast now exposed the greatest of all our secrets—the intentions of the Senousya!” he said.“I tell thee thou liest!” she cried in anger, clenching her small white hand; “I have divulged nothing—I swear!”“Perhaps not personally; nevertheless thou hast been instrumental in allowing the designs of our brotherhood to become known, and punishment will of a verity overtake thee. May the judgment of Allah fall upon thee! upon thy father, and upon thy tribe of murderers and harlots, and may their vitals be devoured by the fire unquenchable! Thou, bringer of evil upon our house, hast done thy best to thwart theJihad, (Holy War) against the dogs of Infidels.”“I cannot understand thy meaning,” she said, puzzled. “Thine accusations are as complicated as the lock of the Holy Ka’abah.”“Vile offspring of Shirm!” he cried in a sudden paroxysm of passion, seizing her roughly by the wrist. “To feign ignorance will not avail thee. I have discovered the depths of thy perfidy. Perhaps thou wilt deny that, on thy return hither with thy slaves, thou didst discover amid the ruins of the Hall of the Great Death a man who had been wounded?”She started, turned pale, and looked at him with an expression that betrayed fear of his terrible wrath.“Thou, cursed handmaiden of hell, viewing this stranger from beyond the Atlas with compassion because his face found favour in thine eyes, bound up his wound, and, placing him in ajakfiupon one of thy camels, secretly bore him hither. Though thou didst not know him, thou gavest him food, and tended him while he lay fever-stricken and unconscious; and when thou arrivedst here, thy women, acting under thine orders, assisted thee to secrete him in some place the existence of which thyself only hast knowledge. Speak!” he added, twisting her white arm until a cry of pain escaped her. “Speak, woman! tell me if I utter the truth.”“Release me, brute!” she cried, springing to her feet, with her beautiful eyes flashing angrily. “Thinkest thou that I will endure thy tortures longer? No! I hate thee! I will depart. Another may rule thine harem, and may she find her position happier than mine hath been!”“But remember thou art my prisoner. Dost thou admit or deny what I have said?” he demanded, pale with passion.“If thou accusest me of infidelity, I can deny it upon the Book of the Everlasting Will,” she replied, drawing herself up haughtily. “Other allegations I deign not to answer, even though thou art my captor, and I am in thy power.”“Then know, O woman of evil, who hast been defiled by the eyes of a stranger, the man thou hast aided now holdeth the secret of the Ghuzzat, and—”“He—he hath learned of the plot against our Oppressors?” she gasped. “Tell me, how did it occur?”“At the council of the Brotherhood he was discovered behind a curtain in the secret Chamber of Assembly, and no doubt can exist but that he watched and obtained knowledge of our rites and intentions. Upon me, therefore, will fall the fierce and fatal wrath of the Brotherhood, for within my walls hath their secret been betrayed!”“But—how did he gain the Chamber of the Assembly?” she stammered.“Thou canst best answer that question,” the old Arab replied sternly.“I am in ignorance, truly,” she declared, a deadly pallor overspreading her fair countenance. “I have done naught of which I am ashamed.”“But canst thou not, perfidious wench, see that our secret is out?” he continued angrily. “The stranger, though pursued, disappeared mysteriously, and though every search hath been made, he hath not been found. By this time he is most probably on his way into Algeria, where he will spread the warning, and thus the armed hordes of the Roumis will be on the alert, and our aims utterly defeated.”“And thou hast attributed the misfortune of thy fellow-conspirators to me?” she exclaimed, in a tone of reproach.“I tell thee thou alone art the author of the evil that hath befallen us,” he cried, with flashing eyes. “For women of Eblis who betray True Believers, the fire of hell is already prepared. There, the flame and smoke shall surround thee like a pavilion, and if thou beggest relief, thou shalt be relieved with water like molten brass that shall scald thy face. The mischief is worked, the secret is divulged, and already the Brotherhood are leaving, never to return. Thee, devilish daughter of Waila, have we to thank for introducing secretly a spy into our midst!”“I have acted as I thought fit. Leave my presence!” she commanded, with imperious gesture. “I will no longer suffer the brutal insults of a man I hate. Ere the sun hath set I shall have freed myself of thine hateful bonds and left thine accursed roof.”“Thou shalt never go from here alive!” he hissed in her ear, holding her slim white wrist and dragging her roughly towards him. “Already thou, the cause of our downfall, hast defiled thine hands with the blood of a stranger, and allowed him to obtain knowledge whereby our secret designs will be thwarted. For such offences there is but one penalty. It is death!”“Thou, who art tired of me, bring these accusations in order to justify my murder!” she gasped in indignation and alarm. “My people have not forgotten, and assuredly will they seek blood revenge.”“Enough!” he growled between his teeth, as in a second he drew a knife from his waist, and, clutching her by the throat, forced her upon her knees. “Thou art the handmaiden of Al-Dajjâl, and the mark of the Câfer is set upon thy brow. Thou shalt die!”She shrieked as his powerful arm poised in mid air.“Spare me! Spare me!” she implored piteously. “Be thou merciful!”But he jeered at her appeal, and, forcing her backward in his iron clutches, gripped the gleaming, murderous weapon.“Thy people, thou Misriyah! will never know thy fate, for ere sundown thou wilt be as offal, and vultures will strip thy bones,” he said, with a fiendish grin. “See! this my knife seeketh thy polluted heart.”Unhesitatingly I dashed forward, springing upon him from behind and wrenching the weapon from his grasp. I was not a moment too soon, for in another instant the keen steel would have been plunged into the heaving white breast of the fair, fragile jewel of the harem.“Who, pray, art thou, who darest obstruct me?” he demanded angrily, turning upon me in amazement.“Thy wife hath saved my life, and it is my duty to save hers,” I answered boldly.“See!” she panted, suddenly recognising me. “See! it is the stranger who was wounded!”“The stranger who hath learned at his peril the secret of the Ghuzzat,” he added, with grim sarcasm. “As he is thy protector, he is most probably thy lover also!”“That I deny,” I answered quickly. “I have known nothing of this lady until to-day.”“Liar!” he shrieked in rage. “Thou boldest our secret. Only thy death will expiate thine eavesdropping!” and ere I could realise his intention, he had drawn a second knife from his waist and made a desperate lunge at me. With difficulty I managed to parry the blow, and for a few moments we engaged in deadly combat. His young wife, alarmed, rushed to a door which led into a beautiful courtyard, and shouted for help. Her cries were answered immediately by two black slaves of gigantic stature, who, in obedience to her commands, flung themselves upon their master, twisted the knife from his fingers, and in a trice had bound his hands behind his back with a cord they seemed to have brought for the purpose.“Slaves! Suffer not thine hands to thus defile me!” he cried, with a look of murder in his flashing eyes, but they gagged him immediately.His wife, addressing the two negroes, exclaimed—“It is as I expected. He hath attempted to strike me to earth, and had it not been for this stranger, I should have been murdered. Three days ago I gave thee certain instructions—carry them out.”“We will, O Lady of Great Beauty,” they both replied.“Then remove him.”The two black giants opened the small door by which I had entered, and almost before the old Arab could mumble a protest, they had hurried him out and down into the dark subterranean passage that led away into the unknown maze below.“That course is my only chance of escape,” she said, turning to me in explanation, when the door had closed. “Had I fallen, thou too must have perished, for thy food in the secret chamber could not have lasted long,” she panted, holding her hand to her breast as if in pain.“I have to thank thee for rescuing me from death,” I said. “I had no idea who was my deliverer until I overheard thy conversation.”“But thou didst not obey the instructions I left thee in my letter,” she said in a tone of reproach. “Searching for a means of exit, it seemeth, brought thee unto the Chamber of Assembly; hence my disgrace and thine own peril.”“But thine husband—whither have they taken him?”“To the chamber in which thou hast remained hidden these few days. Before he is placed there, he will be rendered unconscious, so that he may not know of the secret entrance. There will he remain while I reach a place of safety.”“Merely detained?” I asked dubiously.“Yes. Though in his wrath he tried to kill me, I bear him no malice, for when I get back to mine own people, I shall be safe. If he discovers how to get out of his prison, then he will live. If not”—and she shrugged her shoulders.“Though thou art his wife, thou dost not appear to regret thy departure.”“Why should I, when I have been detained here over a year against my will? If thou only knewest the dreary life a woman leadeth in the hands of a brute she hates and despises—ah!” and she shuddered.“Then thou wilt now regain freedom?” I said, surprised.“Yes. For many moons have I waited in patience for this moment, and at last I have accomplished what I sought. Already the preparations are being made. My two trusty slaves will return when their work hath been accomplished, and in an hour camels will be packed in readiness for our journey.”“Our journey? Dost thou intend that I should accompany thee?” I asked.“Certainly. To disguise thyself as a female slave, veiled and enshrouded by a haick, is thine only chance of escape.La bodd annak taroóh maaki!” (“You must go with me”) and she sank back again upon her divan, as if the exertion had utterly exhausted her.“Thou art stronger than when I found thee lying as one dead in the ruins of the great Palace of the White Sultan,” she exclaimed, as she lay stretched among her cushions, with her bright, beautiful eyes looking up to mine. “Dost thou feel well enough to withstand the fatigue of travel?”“Yes, quite,” I answered. “But ought we not to prepare for flight immediately?”“There is no need for haste,” she answered. “This is mine own private apartment where none dare enter, so take thine ease, for we must journey far beforeel maghrib.”All trace of her agitation had now disappeared, and as we chatted calmly, I asked, “Why didst thou take compassion upon me—a stranger?”“I had accompanied two of the wives of the man who hath held me in hateful bondage on a portion of their journey towards Assiou, and in returning we halted to rest under the shadow of the Hall of the Great Death. There I discovered thee, and, in order to give thee succour, was compelled to resort to the expedient of placing thee within the secret chamber. Some time previously I had heard that thou wert journeying south.”“Who told thee? What didst thou know of me?”“I knew that thou, a Roumi, hadst undertaken to reach Agadez in order to perform a secret mission, and that thou hadst proved loyal and true to the woman who loved thee. For her sake as well as for thine I snatched thee from certain death, and if Allah giveth us His mercy and blessing, we both shall now regain our freedom.”“Art thou aware of the name of the woman to whom I am betrothed?” I inquired, in amazement.“She is—or was—called Zoraida, and was known to our people as the Daughter of the Sun.”“Thy people? Then thou art of the tribe of the Ennitra?” I exclaimed.“True,” she answered, with a smile. “I am the daughter of those who have so long and eagerly sought thy destruction.”“But what of Zoraida? Tell me; is she still alive?” I asked anxiously.“Alas! I am uncertain. Here in this my prison only strange and vague rumours have reached me. Once I heard that she had been murdered in Algiers, but soon afterwards that report brought by the caravans was denied, and since then much curious gossip regarding her hath been circulated. The last I heard was, that, disguised as a camel-driver, she had followed thee to Agadez.”“To Agadez?” I cried. “How long ago did that astounding news reach thee?”“Early last moon. One of my slaves heard it while travelling with some of the women to Assiou. I am inclined to regard it, however, like so many other rumours, as mere idle talk of the bazaars, for only a few days before that, I heard of her holding sway at the palace of our lord Hadj Absalam.”“Canst thou tell me nothing authentic?” I asked, disappointedly.“Alas! nothing,” she answered, with a sigh. “Our Lalla Zoraida is mighty and of wondrous beauty, but the mystery that surroundeth her hath never been penetrated.”
The glimmer of sunset struggling through the chink above faded quickly. Upon my strained ears the sound of hurrying footsteps fell, but again died away. My pursuers were returning after their fruitless errand. Yet would they relinquish the search now they knew a stranger held their secrets?
The conspiracy was against Christians in general and the power of France in Algeria and Tunis in particular, therefore they knew that if the military authorities in Algiers were acquainted with the facts, the great Army of Africa would be held in readiness to crush the revolt in its earliest stages. No doubt the memory of the great insurrection which commenced at Souk Ahras in 1871, and which eventually proved so disastrous to them, had not yet been obliterated, and they still recollected how, although the revolt spread everywhere through Kabylia at the word of the Sheikh el-Haddad, yet their people had struggled in vain against the invaders, and the standard of Al-Islâm was at last torn down by the Infidels, and their mosques were defiled by their conquerors’ feet. Since that day, Turcos, Spahis, Zouaves, artillery, and infantry had posts everywhere throughout the French sphere of influence, and conspiracy was punishable by the guillotine. True, the plot I had discovered was being perfected beyond the frontier, yet the conspirators were no doubt members of a tribe under French rule, therefore amenable to the laws of their conquerors. Thoughts such as these caused me to reflect that these men who had schemed revenge were not likely to content themselves with the knowledge that I had escaped. If, as I supposed, I was still in the ruined Hall of the Great Death, it would be impossible for a man to get away unnoticed, the ruins being situated on high ground in the centre of a barren wilderness. But evidently they were unaware of the existence of that secret chamber, and doubtless they considered my sudden disappearance most remarkable.
As, however, the dead silence remained unbroken, I at length resolved to wait patiently till the morrow, and in the pitch darkness groped my way towards my couch. The violent exertion had almost exhausted me, and I sat for some time feeling very faint and ill. My wound pained me considerably, for the bandages had shifted and haemorrhage had again been produced. Presently, however, I felt better, and after a draught of water and a few dates, I stretched myself and fell asleep.
Until the streak of sunlight told me that the noon had passed, I waited patiently, with ears open to catch every sound, and, hearing nothing, I at last resolved to make another dash for liberty. Placing some food and the leathern case containing my prize in my sash, I pushed forth the stone drawer gently and crept through its narrow aperture. Gaining the dark passage, I hesitated for a few seconds, then decided to explore it in the opposite direction, for I had no intention of again approaching the chamber wherein the secret rites had been performed. A few feet from where I had emerged, the passage, like a rabbit’s burrow, declined steeply, and grew so narrow and low that I was compelled to stoop. Advance was difficult in the darkness, yet I crept on, hoping to arrive eventually at some exit. To my disappointment, however, the passage penetrated still deeper into the earth, and gradually narrowed until I was compelled to creep along on all fours. The atmosphere was choking, and I began to fear asphyxiation.
Suddenly I emerged into what appeared to be a larger space, and my feet struck stone steps. Finding I could now stand upright again, I ascended, wondering whither they might lead. Not a ray of light showed, and in the darkness I stumbled onward, for the steep stairs were worn and in some places fallen away. As I toiled upward, the air seemed more fresh, and I felt that in the immediate vicinity there must be some outlet from that subterranean labyrinth. Gaining the top, I groped about until I felt a door strengthened by strips of iron. It was small, but very heavy. What, I wondered, did it conceal?
Discovering a handle, I slowly turned it. To my satisfaction, the door yielded noiselessly, and I found myself in a great luxuriously-furnished chamber, the air of which was fragrant with attar of rose and the downy divans were of pale yellow silk.
Scarce daring to enter, I paused. It was, I could see, a woman’s apartment.
A man’s deep voice was raised in anger, and I saw lying in a lazy attitude on a divan before me, with her hair unbound, a beautiful girl with face unveiled. She was richly dressed in silk of palest heliotrope, with a heavy golden girdle and a tiny sleeveless zouave jacket of rose-pink velvet, heavily trimmed with gold. Her skin was as fair as an Englishwoman’s, but her eyebrows were darkened with kohl, and her forehead was almost hidden beneath its sequins. A dainty little fez trimmed with seed pearls was set jauntily upon her handsome head, and as she lay, one bare foot hanging over the edge of the divan in an attitude full of languid grace, she toyed with her rings, and her bejewelled breast heaved and fell in a long, heavy sigh.
Her companion, a well-dressed Arab, tall, long past middle life, with a face in which brutality was strongly marked, was striding up and down the sweet-scented apartment, hurling at her fearful imprecations and insults, and expressing profound disgust that he had ever stooped to caress her.
My feet fell so noiselessly upon the soft carpet that neither had noticed my entrance, therefore I stepped back, re-closing the door, but leaving it ajar, in order that I might witness the domestic disagreement.
“Thine harsh words wound more deeply than thy blows,” she observed, with a sigh, as the man paused to gain breath.
“By my beard, wench! thou art verily the off-scum of Eblis, upon whom the mercy of the One Merciful can never rest! Thou hidest in thine heart secrets, and refusest to tell me that which I demand. I will degrade thee, woman, to the meanest slavery; thou shalt wash the feet of those who have been thy slaves. Though thou art a beauteous damsel—a houri fitted for the Sultan of the Ahír—thou—”
“Hast thou lived thy threescore years, and failed to discover that sometimes the face is not an index to the mind?” she interrupted, with a flippant air.
“With thee, accursed betrayer of secrets and worker of iniquity, have I learned that soft caresses may prove as the coils of a venomous serpent, and that a woman’s lips may conceal poison!” he cried, halting before her with clenched fist.
Throwing her head back upon her silken cushion, she laughed at his passion.
“Thou thinkest that thou hast cleverly deceived me—eh?” he hissed. “Thy dark eyes sparkle like the stars, because thou, thrice-cursed offspring of Satan, knowest that—that I have been fooled, tricked by thee, who hast received from me every luxury! Had it not been for me, thou wouldst have been at this moment the slave of some common camel-driver, and—”
“Even that would have been preferable to imprisonment within thine harem. Would that thine accursed generosity had been showered upon some other woman than upon me,” she cried, rousing herself and looking straight and fearlessly into his angry, bearded visage. “True, in return for thy favours, I have tried to love thee. Thou hast been pleased to exalt me to be chief of thy wives, to bestow upon me jewels of great price, and to place me above those who were envious because their faces pleased thee not. Towards thee I have been faithful, and I have ever kept thy private affairs locked within my bosom.”
“And thou hast now exposed the greatest of all our secrets—the intentions of the Senousya!” he said.
“I tell thee thou liest!” she cried in anger, clenching her small white hand; “I have divulged nothing—I swear!”
“Perhaps not personally; nevertheless thou hast been instrumental in allowing the designs of our brotherhood to become known, and punishment will of a verity overtake thee. May the judgment of Allah fall upon thee! upon thy father, and upon thy tribe of murderers and harlots, and may their vitals be devoured by the fire unquenchable! Thou, bringer of evil upon our house, hast done thy best to thwart theJihad, (Holy War) against the dogs of Infidels.”
“I cannot understand thy meaning,” she said, puzzled. “Thine accusations are as complicated as the lock of the Holy Ka’abah.”
“Vile offspring of Shirm!” he cried in a sudden paroxysm of passion, seizing her roughly by the wrist. “To feign ignorance will not avail thee. I have discovered the depths of thy perfidy. Perhaps thou wilt deny that, on thy return hither with thy slaves, thou didst discover amid the ruins of the Hall of the Great Death a man who had been wounded?”
She started, turned pale, and looked at him with an expression that betrayed fear of his terrible wrath.
“Thou, cursed handmaiden of hell, viewing this stranger from beyond the Atlas with compassion because his face found favour in thine eyes, bound up his wound, and, placing him in ajakfiupon one of thy camels, secretly bore him hither. Though thou didst not know him, thou gavest him food, and tended him while he lay fever-stricken and unconscious; and when thou arrivedst here, thy women, acting under thine orders, assisted thee to secrete him in some place the existence of which thyself only hast knowledge. Speak!” he added, twisting her white arm until a cry of pain escaped her. “Speak, woman! tell me if I utter the truth.”
“Release me, brute!” she cried, springing to her feet, with her beautiful eyes flashing angrily. “Thinkest thou that I will endure thy tortures longer? No! I hate thee! I will depart. Another may rule thine harem, and may she find her position happier than mine hath been!”
“But remember thou art my prisoner. Dost thou admit or deny what I have said?” he demanded, pale with passion.
“If thou accusest me of infidelity, I can deny it upon the Book of the Everlasting Will,” she replied, drawing herself up haughtily. “Other allegations I deign not to answer, even though thou art my captor, and I am in thy power.”
“Then know, O woman of evil, who hast been defiled by the eyes of a stranger, the man thou hast aided now holdeth the secret of the Ghuzzat, and—”
“He—he hath learned of the plot against our Oppressors?” she gasped. “Tell me, how did it occur?”
“At the council of the Brotherhood he was discovered behind a curtain in the secret Chamber of Assembly, and no doubt can exist but that he watched and obtained knowledge of our rites and intentions. Upon me, therefore, will fall the fierce and fatal wrath of the Brotherhood, for within my walls hath their secret been betrayed!”
“But—how did he gain the Chamber of the Assembly?” she stammered.
“Thou canst best answer that question,” the old Arab replied sternly.
“I am in ignorance, truly,” she declared, a deadly pallor overspreading her fair countenance. “I have done naught of which I am ashamed.”
“But canst thou not, perfidious wench, see that our secret is out?” he continued angrily. “The stranger, though pursued, disappeared mysteriously, and though every search hath been made, he hath not been found. By this time he is most probably on his way into Algeria, where he will spread the warning, and thus the armed hordes of the Roumis will be on the alert, and our aims utterly defeated.”
“And thou hast attributed the misfortune of thy fellow-conspirators to me?” she exclaimed, in a tone of reproach.
“I tell thee thou alone art the author of the evil that hath befallen us,” he cried, with flashing eyes. “For women of Eblis who betray True Believers, the fire of hell is already prepared. There, the flame and smoke shall surround thee like a pavilion, and if thou beggest relief, thou shalt be relieved with water like molten brass that shall scald thy face. The mischief is worked, the secret is divulged, and already the Brotherhood are leaving, never to return. Thee, devilish daughter of Waila, have we to thank for introducing secretly a spy into our midst!”
“I have acted as I thought fit. Leave my presence!” she commanded, with imperious gesture. “I will no longer suffer the brutal insults of a man I hate. Ere the sun hath set I shall have freed myself of thine hateful bonds and left thine accursed roof.”
“Thou shalt never go from here alive!” he hissed in her ear, holding her slim white wrist and dragging her roughly towards him. “Already thou, the cause of our downfall, hast defiled thine hands with the blood of a stranger, and allowed him to obtain knowledge whereby our secret designs will be thwarted. For such offences there is but one penalty. It is death!”
“Thou, who art tired of me, bring these accusations in order to justify my murder!” she gasped in indignation and alarm. “My people have not forgotten, and assuredly will they seek blood revenge.”
“Enough!” he growled between his teeth, as in a second he drew a knife from his waist, and, clutching her by the throat, forced her upon her knees. “Thou art the handmaiden of Al-Dajjâl, and the mark of the Câfer is set upon thy brow. Thou shalt die!”
She shrieked as his powerful arm poised in mid air.
“Spare me! Spare me!” she implored piteously. “Be thou merciful!”
But he jeered at her appeal, and, forcing her backward in his iron clutches, gripped the gleaming, murderous weapon.
“Thy people, thou Misriyah! will never know thy fate, for ere sundown thou wilt be as offal, and vultures will strip thy bones,” he said, with a fiendish grin. “See! this my knife seeketh thy polluted heart.”
Unhesitatingly I dashed forward, springing upon him from behind and wrenching the weapon from his grasp. I was not a moment too soon, for in another instant the keen steel would have been plunged into the heaving white breast of the fair, fragile jewel of the harem.
“Who, pray, art thou, who darest obstruct me?” he demanded angrily, turning upon me in amazement.
“Thy wife hath saved my life, and it is my duty to save hers,” I answered boldly.
“See!” she panted, suddenly recognising me. “See! it is the stranger who was wounded!”
“The stranger who hath learned at his peril the secret of the Ghuzzat,” he added, with grim sarcasm. “As he is thy protector, he is most probably thy lover also!”
“That I deny,” I answered quickly. “I have known nothing of this lady until to-day.”
“Liar!” he shrieked in rage. “Thou boldest our secret. Only thy death will expiate thine eavesdropping!” and ere I could realise his intention, he had drawn a second knife from his waist and made a desperate lunge at me. With difficulty I managed to parry the blow, and for a few moments we engaged in deadly combat. His young wife, alarmed, rushed to a door which led into a beautiful courtyard, and shouted for help. Her cries were answered immediately by two black slaves of gigantic stature, who, in obedience to her commands, flung themselves upon their master, twisted the knife from his fingers, and in a trice had bound his hands behind his back with a cord they seemed to have brought for the purpose.
“Slaves! Suffer not thine hands to thus defile me!” he cried, with a look of murder in his flashing eyes, but they gagged him immediately.
His wife, addressing the two negroes, exclaimed—
“It is as I expected. He hath attempted to strike me to earth, and had it not been for this stranger, I should have been murdered. Three days ago I gave thee certain instructions—carry them out.”
“We will, O Lady of Great Beauty,” they both replied.
“Then remove him.”
The two black giants opened the small door by which I had entered, and almost before the old Arab could mumble a protest, they had hurried him out and down into the dark subterranean passage that led away into the unknown maze below.
“That course is my only chance of escape,” she said, turning to me in explanation, when the door had closed. “Had I fallen, thou too must have perished, for thy food in the secret chamber could not have lasted long,” she panted, holding her hand to her breast as if in pain.
“I have to thank thee for rescuing me from death,” I said. “I had no idea who was my deliverer until I overheard thy conversation.”
“But thou didst not obey the instructions I left thee in my letter,” she said in a tone of reproach. “Searching for a means of exit, it seemeth, brought thee unto the Chamber of Assembly; hence my disgrace and thine own peril.”
“But thine husband—whither have they taken him?”
“To the chamber in which thou hast remained hidden these few days. Before he is placed there, he will be rendered unconscious, so that he may not know of the secret entrance. There will he remain while I reach a place of safety.”
“Merely detained?” I asked dubiously.
“Yes. Though in his wrath he tried to kill me, I bear him no malice, for when I get back to mine own people, I shall be safe. If he discovers how to get out of his prison, then he will live. If not”—and she shrugged her shoulders.
“Though thou art his wife, thou dost not appear to regret thy departure.”
“Why should I, when I have been detained here over a year against my will? If thou only knewest the dreary life a woman leadeth in the hands of a brute she hates and despises—ah!” and she shuddered.
“Then thou wilt now regain freedom?” I said, surprised.
“Yes. For many moons have I waited in patience for this moment, and at last I have accomplished what I sought. Already the preparations are being made. My two trusty slaves will return when their work hath been accomplished, and in an hour camels will be packed in readiness for our journey.”
“Our journey? Dost thou intend that I should accompany thee?” I asked.
“Certainly. To disguise thyself as a female slave, veiled and enshrouded by a haick, is thine only chance of escape.La bodd annak taroóh maaki!” (“You must go with me”) and she sank back again upon her divan, as if the exertion had utterly exhausted her.
“Thou art stronger than when I found thee lying as one dead in the ruins of the great Palace of the White Sultan,” she exclaimed, as she lay stretched among her cushions, with her bright, beautiful eyes looking up to mine. “Dost thou feel well enough to withstand the fatigue of travel?”
“Yes, quite,” I answered. “But ought we not to prepare for flight immediately?”
“There is no need for haste,” she answered. “This is mine own private apartment where none dare enter, so take thine ease, for we must journey far beforeel maghrib.”
All trace of her agitation had now disappeared, and as we chatted calmly, I asked, “Why didst thou take compassion upon me—a stranger?”
“I had accompanied two of the wives of the man who hath held me in hateful bondage on a portion of their journey towards Assiou, and in returning we halted to rest under the shadow of the Hall of the Great Death. There I discovered thee, and, in order to give thee succour, was compelled to resort to the expedient of placing thee within the secret chamber. Some time previously I had heard that thou wert journeying south.”
“Who told thee? What didst thou know of me?”
“I knew that thou, a Roumi, hadst undertaken to reach Agadez in order to perform a secret mission, and that thou hadst proved loyal and true to the woman who loved thee. For her sake as well as for thine I snatched thee from certain death, and if Allah giveth us His mercy and blessing, we both shall now regain our freedom.”
“Art thou aware of the name of the woman to whom I am betrothed?” I inquired, in amazement.
“She is—or was—called Zoraida, and was known to our people as the Daughter of the Sun.”
“Thy people? Then thou art of the tribe of the Ennitra?” I exclaimed.
“True,” she answered, with a smile. “I am the daughter of those who have so long and eagerly sought thy destruction.”
“But what of Zoraida? Tell me; is she still alive?” I asked anxiously.
“Alas! I am uncertain. Here in this my prison only strange and vague rumours have reached me. Once I heard that she had been murdered in Algiers, but soon afterwards that report brought by the caravans was denied, and since then much curious gossip regarding her hath been circulated. The last I heard was, that, disguised as a camel-driver, she had followed thee to Agadez.”
“To Agadez?” I cried. “How long ago did that astounding news reach thee?”
“Early last moon. One of my slaves heard it while travelling with some of the women to Assiou. I am inclined to regard it, however, like so many other rumours, as mere idle talk of the bazaars, for only a few days before that, I heard of her holding sway at the palace of our lord Hadj Absalam.”
“Canst thou tell me nothing authentic?” I asked, disappointedly.
“Alas! nothing,” she answered, with a sigh. “Our Lalla Zoraida is mighty and of wondrous beauty, but the mystery that surroundeth her hath never been penetrated.”
Chapter Thirty Four.Under the Green Banner.Through a vast, barren wilderness, peopled only by echoes, we journeyed over drifted sand-heaps, upon which every breath of the hot poison-wind left its trace in solid waves. It was a haggard land of drear silence, of solitude, and of fantastic desolation. In the Desert a vivid sense of danger is never absent; indeed, even more so than upon the sea, for the mere lameness of a camel or the bursting of a water-skin is a disaster that must inevitably prove fatal to the traveller.Our caravan consisted of ten persons only, six trusted and well-armed male slaves, two females, my pretty companion, and myself. Our departure from the great ancient stronghold in which the handsome girl had been held captive had not been accomplished without much exciting incident; but luckily my disguise as a female slave, in ugly white trousers and a haick that hid my features, proved complete, and, the imperious pearl of the Sheikh’s harem having announced her intention of journeying to Assiou to join his two other wives, we were at last allowed to depart without any opposition on the part of her husband’s armed retainers. The whole thing had been most carefully arranged, and the details of the escape were cleverly carried out without a hitch.On setting out, Lalla Halima—for such she told me was her name—and myself, as her attendant, travelled together in onejakfiplaced upon a swift camel, gaily caparisoned with crimson velvet; but as soon as we had got fairly away, I slipped off my white shroud, and, resuming a fez and burnouse, mounted one of the animals whereon our food was loaded. In camping during those blinding days under a dead, milk-white sky, I spent many pleasant, idle hours with Halima, and when travelling—which we usually did at night—we generally rode side by side. Notwithstanding the terrific heat, life in the Desert seemed to suit her far better than the seclusion of her sweet-perfumed harem, for, true child of the plains as she was, she felt her heart dilate and her pulse beat stronger; declaring to me that she experienced a keen enjoyment in “roughing it” in that trackless wilderness. Indeed, the spirits of all of us became exuberant, the air and exercise seemed to stir us to exertion, and, altogether, we constituted a really pleasant party.Lolling lazily at her ease among the silken cushions in herjakfi, she would chat with charming frankness through the night, as in the moonlight we plodded steadily onward guided by one of the slaves to whom the route was familiar. She told me all about herself, of her childhood, spent in the barren desert of the Ahaggar, of a visit she paid to Algiers one Ramadân, and of the attack by the Kel-Fadê upon the little village of Afara Aouhan, her capture, and her subsequent life in the harem of the Sheikh. From her I gleaned many details regarding her people, of their wanderings, their power in the Desert, and their raids upon neighbouring nomad tribes. Many were the horrible stories she told me of the fierce brutality of Hadj Absalam, who was feared by his people as a wicked, unjust, and tyrannical ruler, and who, despising the French military authorities, delighted in the torture of Christian captives, and endeavoured to entice the Zouaves and Spahis into his mountain fastnesses where he could slaughter them without mercy. The Great Pirate’s impregnable palace, the fame of which had long ago spread from Timbuktu to Cairo, she described in detail, and if what she said proved correct, the place must be of magnificent proportions, and a very remarkable structure. The harem, she said, contained over four hundred inmates, the majority of whom had fallen prisoners in various raids, but so fickle was the pirate Sultan of the Sahara, that assassination was horribly frequent, and poison, the silken cord, or the scimitar, removed, almost weekly, those who failed to find favour in the eyes of their cruel captor.Yet, regarding Zoraida, I could gather scarcely anything beyond the fact that the subjects of Hadj Absalam knew her by repute as the most beautiful of women, and that few, even of the female inmates of the palace, had ever looked upon her unveiled face. One evening, as we rode beside each other in the brilliant afterglow, I admitted how utterly mystified I was regarding the woman I loved; to which Halima replied softly—“Who she is no one can tell. Her name is synonymous for all that is pure and good, her benevolence among our poorer families is proverbial, and she possesseth a strange power, the secret of which none hath ever been able to discover.”“Thou didst tell me that thy people sought my destruction,” I said. “Dost thou know the reason for their secret hatred?”“I have heard that thou holdest the mysterious power of defeating thine enemies once possessed by the Lalla Zoraida, and that until thy death it cannot return to her,” she answered. “But thou dost not seem so terrible as report describeth thee,” she added, with a coquettish smile.I laughed. It was nevertheless strange that my would-be assassin Labakan had made a similar allegation. Remembering that I was accompanying my fair companion upon an adventurous journey to an unknown destination, I said—“Though we have travelled together these six days, thou hast not yet told me whither our camels’ heads are set.”Puffing thoughtfully at the cigarette between her dainty lips, she replied, “Already have I explained that I am returning to my people. The route we are traversing is known only to the trusty slave who guideth us and to mine own people, for there are no wells, and no adventurous traveller hath ever dared to penetrate into this deserted, silent land of the Samun.”“Is it not known to thine enemies, the Kel-Fadê?” I asked, recollecting with bitterness that to the marauders of the tribe that had held her in bondage I also owed my captivity in the Court of the Eunuchs.“The Kel-Fadê have never penetrated hither,” she answered, gazing away to where the purple flush was dying away on the misty horizon. “In three days—if Allah showeth us favour—we shall reach the rocky valley wherein my people are encamped.Ana fíkalák hatta athab ila honâk.” (“I am very anxious to get there.”)“But for what reason are thy people so many weeks’ journey from their own country?” I asked.Moving uneasily among her cushions, she contemplated the end of her cigarette. Apparently it was a question which she did not care to answer, for she disregarded it, exclaiming grimly, “I wonder if the occupant of the secret chamber will discover the means of exit?”“Suppose he faileth? What then?”“He will share the fate that hath befallen others immured there,” she answered, raising her arched brows slightly.“Immured there by thee?” I hazarded, smiling.“No,” she replied, with a musical laugh. “Thou must not judge me with such harshness, even though my life hath become embittered by captivity in the harem of a monster I hated.”Suddenly I recollected the strange recovery of my mysterious talisman, the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, which was now reposing safely in its case within one of the bags beneath me. Evidently it had been hidden with other booty taken from the caravan with which I had travelled by some one who had regarded it with curiosity.“Is the existence of that hidden prison known to anyone besides thyself?” I inquired.“Why askest thou that question? Art thou afraid my lord will escape ere we reach a place of safety?” she exclaimed, with a low, rippling laugh.“No,” I replied. “I have a serious object in seeking information.”“What, wert thou troubled by unwelcome visitors?” she asked, smiling mischievously.“No; on the contrary, the silence was appalling and the companionship of the dead horrible.”“Ah, forgive me!” she exclaimed apologetically. “It was not my fault that I could not have the place cleared of the bones. There was no time. But in my written message I told thee to fear not.”“But whoever placed me there knew of the secret entrance,” I urged.“True,” she answered. “Two of my slaves—he who guideth us towards the encampment of the Ennitra and the man leading yonder camel—carried thee to thine underground tomb, and placed food there for thee.”Her words gave me instant explanation. From the first the countenance of our guide had seemed familiar, and I now remembered where I had seen it. He was one of those who had held me when the Mysterious Crescent had been wrenched so suddenly from my grasp! No doubt it had come into his possession with other loot, which, in order to secure to himself, he had hidden in that place where none could obtain entrance. As he rode on top of his camel quite close to me, I peered into his dark, aquiline face and found its features unmistakable. It was he who had secured me, who had subjected me to slavery, and who had mounted guard over me until I had been purchased by the agent of the Sultan Hámed. Apparently he had not recognised me, and as I again held my treasure safely in my own keeping, I had no desire to claim acquaintance with this slave, who was himself a slave-raider. They were all brave, sturdy fellows, loyal to their mistress, a quality that I admired, for both she and I had interests in common in putting a respectable distance between ourselves and the irate Sheikh of the Kel-Fadê.“If thy people seek my death, am I not unwise in accompanying thee into their midst?” I queried, after a pause.“By thine aid I, one of their daughters, have escaped from the bonds of their enemies, therefore fear not, for though the Ennitra rule the Desert harshly with rifle and bastinado, they harm not those who lend them assistance.”I told her of my first experience of Hadj Absalam, and how I had been tortured with the snake, concealing the fact that Zoraida had set me at liberty.“Tabakoh câsi. (His disposition is cruel.) He is hated even by our own people,” she exclaimed, when I had concluded. “His brutality is fiendish to us and to strangers alike; but when Infidels are brought into his presence, his rage is absolutely ungovernable. Thy torture was not so horrible as some I myself have witnessed. Once, near Téhe-n-Aïeren, at the foot of Mount El Aghil, a young Zouave soldier strayed into our camp, and, being captured, was brought before him. Because the Infidel’s eyes had rested upon one of his women, he ordered them both to be gouged out and sent to the French commandant at Ideles. Then the man’s ears followed, then his nose, then his hands, and after keeping him alive in fearful torture for nearly three weeks, the body of the wretched prisoner was covered with date juice and placed upon an ant-hill, where he was literally devoured by the insects.”“Horrible!” I said, shuddering. “Are such tortures common among thy tribe?”“Alas!” she answered, rearranging her pillow; “cruelties such as these are frequently practised, even upon us. Neither men, women, nor children are safe. Those who give our mighty lord offence always pay the penalty with their lives, but never before they have been tortured.”“Yet thou art anxious to return among them?”“Yes,” she replied, with an earnest look. As she lay curled up in her cage-like litter, she had the air of a little savage with the grace of a child. “I do not wish to be loved as I have been, like a slave,” she added in a confidential tone.“But thou hast ruled the harem of the Sheikh, and hast been chief of his great household,” I observed.“True,” she answered. “But there are circumstances in our lives we cannot forget; there are people who dwell always in the house of our memory.”I nodded. The truth was easily guessed.“Two days before being torn from my people,” she continued bitterly, “I met, by mere chance, a man of mine own people whom I have never ceased to remember. It was a chance meeting, and by no fault of mine own was my veil drawn aside. Neither of us spoke, but I knew we loved each other. My father told me he was one of the most daring of the men-at-arms Hadj Absalam sends against thehomards, a notorious thief and cut-throat, to secure whose capture the Roumis away at Algiers have offered two bags of gold.” She sighed, then added simply, “Though he may be a murderer, I shall love him, even until Allah bringeth me to Certainty.” (The hour of death.)She spoke with the passionate ardour of her race. The love of the Arab woman knows neither the shame nor the duplicity of vice. Proud of her submission as a slave, she can love even a murderer without losing any of her self-respect. In her eyes, her tenderness is legitimate; her glory is to conquer the heart. The man she loves is her master, she abandons herself to him without failing in any duty. A daughter of Al-Islâm, she fulfils her destiny according to the moral traditions and beliefs of her country, and she remains faithful to them by loving the man she chooses; her religion has no other rule, her virtue no other law.“And you have escaped in order to seek this man?” I observed, smoking calmly.“Yes. I seek him because I love him. His eyes gave me a sign of affection, the remembrance of which time hath not effaced. I shall find him, even though I am compelled to journey from Ghat to Mequinez, or from the Tsâd to Algiers.” The eventuality did not occur to her that, being a warrior of an outlaw band, his bones might long ago have been bleaching in the Desert like those of so many of his fellow marauders. Such a thought, I reflected, would cause her acute anxiety, therefore I did not suggest it. She was hopeful, confident, content; tender and passionate in her love, fierce and relentless in her revenge. Night had fallen, and as under the myriad stars we travelled over rising ground towards the camp of the Desert pirates, she formed a delightful study. Her ingenuous ignorance and intuition of coquetry, the Eastern fascination striving with modest reserve, charmed and amused me, and although the wind commenced to blow up choking clouds of fine sand, compelling her to adjust her veil, yet she would not draw the curtains of herjakfi, but continued chatting until we halted an hour after dawn.The slave guiding us predicted a sandstorm, therefore, before encamping, we turned our faces towards the Holy City, and, as pious travellers, recited the Hizb al-Bahr, the prayer which is supposed to make all safe on either land or sea. Halima with her slaves prostrated themselves upon the sand, and in impressive tones repeated aloud the prayer that commences—“O Allah, O Exalted, O Almighty, O All-pitiful, O All-powerful, Thou art my God, and sufficeth to me the knowledge of it!” and which has the following strange conclusion:—“Thou didst subject the Moon and Al-Burak to Mohammed, upon whom be Allah’s mercy and His blessing! And subject unto us all the Seas in Earth and Heaven, in Thy visible and in Thine invisible Worlds, the Sea of this Life, and the Sea of Futurity. O Thou who reignest over everything, and unto whom all Things return.Khyas! Khyas! Khyas!” (Mystic words that cannot be translated.)Halima told me afterwards that in this great waterless region of shifting sand, so fraught with perils, a storm was always brewing and the dreaded poison-wind always blowing, therefore men raised their hands to pray as they crossed it.At sunrise three days later my pretty companion was lying unveiled in herjakfi, smoking and chatting to me, her two women riding a little distance behind, when our guide suddenly raised a loud shout of warning which in a moment alarmed the whole caravan. Halima instinctively twisted her veil across her face as she inquired the cause.The slave drew up his camel near her, replying, while he glanced to make certain that his gun was loaded, “Know, O beauteous Lalla, that we are discovered! Six mysterious, armed horsemen are spurring towards us!” and with his finger he indicated the direction in which his keen, hawk-like eyes had detected them. We all gazed away into the dusky grey where he pointed, and there I saw several mounted Bedouins tearing headlong across the desert in our direction, their long guns held high above their heads, and their white draperies flowing in the wind.Each of us grasped our rifles, prepared to fight for the protection of our fair charge, while Halima herself, pale and determined, drew a long and serviceable-looking poignard from her girdle and felt its edge. It was evident that the strangers had from afar espied Halima’sjakfi, and were resolved to possess themselves of its occupant. In this country of lawless slave-raiders those who show fight are treated with scant mercy, therefore we could expect no quarter, and dismounted ready for the combat. On came the horsemen, fleet as the wind, until they got within a short distance of us, when suddenly, without slackening, and still holding their weapons high above them, they poured out a sharp, decisive volley upon us. It was a warning that they intended attack, and that we might surrender if we were so disposed. The bullets sang over our heads unpleasantly, but no one was hit, and without hesitation our seven rifles rang out almost simultaneously. Again and again we fired, but without result, for the six fierce Sons of the Desert galloped onward, shouting a weird war-cry, and dashed in upon us, calling upon us to lay down our arms. One of them, evidently the leader, swinging himself from his grey stallion, seized Halima by the wrist before we could prevent him, but in a second, with a sudden movement, the harem beauty had slashed him with her dagger, inflicting an ugly wound across his hairy arm.Raising his rifle, he would have shot her dead, had not one of her slaves flung himself between them, crying—“Pause, O strangers! Tell us of what tribe thou art. If thou leviest tax upon us in this thy country, our Lalla is prepared to accede to thy just demands. If a hand is raised against her, the wrath of the Kel-Fadê will assuredly fall upon thee!”“Naught care we for the Kel-Fadê, who are accursed by Allah, for they pray not, neither go they upon pilgrimages!” the man answered, with a harsh laugh. “From the waters of the Tsâd, even unto the green slopes of the Atlas, we hold power supreme, and none dare withstand us, for we are feared alike by the Roumis of Algeria and the True Believers of the Desert.” Then, brandishing hisjambiyah(a very keen crooked dagger) above his head, he added, “We are of the Ennitra, and our lord is the mighty Hadj Absalam, Sultan of the Sahara!”“Then hear me, O brothers!” Halima exclaimed in a loud, firm voice. “I am thy sister!”“Our sister? But thou art of the Kel-Fadê, our enemies!” the horsemen cried with one accord.“True. Hear thou mine explanation. Dost thou not remember that the Kel-Fadê—whom may Allah confound!—attacked and burned our village of Afara Aouhan?”“The sons of dogs killed my father in the massacre,” declared one of the men, a brawny giant, who stood leaning on his gun.“Mine shared the same fate. He was theoukil,” cried the beautiful girl, whose veil had in the struggle been torn away.“His name—quick!” exclaimed the leader of the marauders in surprise.“Hámed ben Abderrahman.”“Then thou art—”“His daughter Halima.”The black-bearded scoundrel immediately released her, and, bowing, expressed sorrow at having caused her undue alarm, after which, in a few quick sentences, she told him of her captivity and her escape, afterwards presenting me as one by whose aid she was enabled to return to her own people. She did not, however, declare me to be a Christian, therefore they thanked me and gave me peace. They told us that we were distant three hours from the encampment, which they, as scouts, were guarding, but advised us to rest till sundown, as the poison-wind was unusually virulent. Acting upon their suggestion, our tents were pitched, and the six outlaws ate with us, afterwards wrapping themselves in their burnouses and sleeping through the long, blazing day. From them I could gather but little regarding the movements of their people, and though I mentioned that I had heard many reports of the wondrous powers possessed by their Daughter of the Sun, they nevertheless preserved a studied silence. They did not even descant upon her beauty, as I expected they would do. They only grunted approbation. Towards four o’clock, Halima, wrapped in her haick, came from her tent, and very shortly afterwards we were on our way to the camp, guided by the six cut-throats of Hadj Absalam, who rode along with careless ease, carrying their weapons across their saddles, smoking cigarettes, and talking gaily. Strange indeed was this latest freak of Fate. Long had I regarded these people as the most deadly of my enemies, yet I was now entering their camp as their friend!Our way wound among bare rocks and hills of granite and over broken ground, weird in its desolation, flanked by high blocks and boulders. Several parties of horsemen, evidently scouts, appeared, but, on recognising our escort, allowed us to pass unmolested, until at length, about the hour ofel maghrib, we came to a vast cleft in the hideous face of earth, and, passing through, found ourselves in a valley in the midst of a great encampment. The ravine seemed covered with tents; indeed, it appeared as if a whole army had encamped there, and I was not surprised when one of the outlaws told me that the fighting force numbered over three thousand.On descending the rocky defile, I saw in an open space in the centre of the camping-ground three tents close together and more handsome than the rest, while against the clear, rose-tinted evening sky there waved over the centre pavilion the dreaded green silken banner of Hadj Absalam.“Then thy lord is present with thee?” I exclaimed in surprise, addressing the marauder who rode beside me.“Yes. When he leadeth us we fear no evil, for he is the Great Sultan of the Sahara, who cannot be overthrown.”Wending our way slowly onward among the tents, our arrival caused a good deal of excitement and speculation among the robbers, who doubtless believed us to be captives. One incident impressed me as especially remarkable. Just as we had entered the camp, three women, enshrouded in silken haicks and wearing their ugly, out-door trousers, were strolling together slowly, as if enjoying the cool zephyr after the breathless day.No word escaped either of them, but one reeled and clutched her companion’s arm, excited and trembling, as if her eyes had met an apparition. I smiled at her intense agitation, wondering whether she had recognised in Halima a hated rival; but until we had turned to wend our way among the tents, she stood motionless, staring at us fixedly through the small aperture of her veil, apparently much to the consternation of her two companions.The tragic little scene, though unusual, was apparently not noticed by my companions.Was it Halima’s presence that caused the closely-veiled woman such sudden and profound consternation—or was it mine?
Through a vast, barren wilderness, peopled only by echoes, we journeyed over drifted sand-heaps, upon which every breath of the hot poison-wind left its trace in solid waves. It was a haggard land of drear silence, of solitude, and of fantastic desolation. In the Desert a vivid sense of danger is never absent; indeed, even more so than upon the sea, for the mere lameness of a camel or the bursting of a water-skin is a disaster that must inevitably prove fatal to the traveller.
Our caravan consisted of ten persons only, six trusted and well-armed male slaves, two females, my pretty companion, and myself. Our departure from the great ancient stronghold in which the handsome girl had been held captive had not been accomplished without much exciting incident; but luckily my disguise as a female slave, in ugly white trousers and a haick that hid my features, proved complete, and, the imperious pearl of the Sheikh’s harem having announced her intention of journeying to Assiou to join his two other wives, we were at last allowed to depart without any opposition on the part of her husband’s armed retainers. The whole thing had been most carefully arranged, and the details of the escape were cleverly carried out without a hitch.
On setting out, Lalla Halima—for such she told me was her name—and myself, as her attendant, travelled together in onejakfiplaced upon a swift camel, gaily caparisoned with crimson velvet; but as soon as we had got fairly away, I slipped off my white shroud, and, resuming a fez and burnouse, mounted one of the animals whereon our food was loaded. In camping during those blinding days under a dead, milk-white sky, I spent many pleasant, idle hours with Halima, and when travelling—which we usually did at night—we generally rode side by side. Notwithstanding the terrific heat, life in the Desert seemed to suit her far better than the seclusion of her sweet-perfumed harem, for, true child of the plains as she was, she felt her heart dilate and her pulse beat stronger; declaring to me that she experienced a keen enjoyment in “roughing it” in that trackless wilderness. Indeed, the spirits of all of us became exuberant, the air and exercise seemed to stir us to exertion, and, altogether, we constituted a really pleasant party.
Lolling lazily at her ease among the silken cushions in herjakfi, she would chat with charming frankness through the night, as in the moonlight we plodded steadily onward guided by one of the slaves to whom the route was familiar. She told me all about herself, of her childhood, spent in the barren desert of the Ahaggar, of a visit she paid to Algiers one Ramadân, and of the attack by the Kel-Fadê upon the little village of Afara Aouhan, her capture, and her subsequent life in the harem of the Sheikh. From her I gleaned many details regarding her people, of their wanderings, their power in the Desert, and their raids upon neighbouring nomad tribes. Many were the horrible stories she told me of the fierce brutality of Hadj Absalam, who was feared by his people as a wicked, unjust, and tyrannical ruler, and who, despising the French military authorities, delighted in the torture of Christian captives, and endeavoured to entice the Zouaves and Spahis into his mountain fastnesses where he could slaughter them without mercy. The Great Pirate’s impregnable palace, the fame of which had long ago spread from Timbuktu to Cairo, she described in detail, and if what she said proved correct, the place must be of magnificent proportions, and a very remarkable structure. The harem, she said, contained over four hundred inmates, the majority of whom had fallen prisoners in various raids, but so fickle was the pirate Sultan of the Sahara, that assassination was horribly frequent, and poison, the silken cord, or the scimitar, removed, almost weekly, those who failed to find favour in the eyes of their cruel captor.
Yet, regarding Zoraida, I could gather scarcely anything beyond the fact that the subjects of Hadj Absalam knew her by repute as the most beautiful of women, and that few, even of the female inmates of the palace, had ever looked upon her unveiled face. One evening, as we rode beside each other in the brilliant afterglow, I admitted how utterly mystified I was regarding the woman I loved; to which Halima replied softly—
“Who she is no one can tell. Her name is synonymous for all that is pure and good, her benevolence among our poorer families is proverbial, and she possesseth a strange power, the secret of which none hath ever been able to discover.”
“Thou didst tell me that thy people sought my destruction,” I said. “Dost thou know the reason for their secret hatred?”
“I have heard that thou holdest the mysterious power of defeating thine enemies once possessed by the Lalla Zoraida, and that until thy death it cannot return to her,” she answered. “But thou dost not seem so terrible as report describeth thee,” she added, with a coquettish smile.
I laughed. It was nevertheless strange that my would-be assassin Labakan had made a similar allegation. Remembering that I was accompanying my fair companion upon an adventurous journey to an unknown destination, I said—
“Though we have travelled together these six days, thou hast not yet told me whither our camels’ heads are set.”
Puffing thoughtfully at the cigarette between her dainty lips, she replied, “Already have I explained that I am returning to my people. The route we are traversing is known only to the trusty slave who guideth us and to mine own people, for there are no wells, and no adventurous traveller hath ever dared to penetrate into this deserted, silent land of the Samun.”
“Is it not known to thine enemies, the Kel-Fadê?” I asked, recollecting with bitterness that to the marauders of the tribe that had held her in bondage I also owed my captivity in the Court of the Eunuchs.
“The Kel-Fadê have never penetrated hither,” she answered, gazing away to where the purple flush was dying away on the misty horizon. “In three days—if Allah showeth us favour—we shall reach the rocky valley wherein my people are encamped.Ana fíkalák hatta athab ila honâk.” (“I am very anxious to get there.”)
“But for what reason are thy people so many weeks’ journey from their own country?” I asked.
Moving uneasily among her cushions, she contemplated the end of her cigarette. Apparently it was a question which she did not care to answer, for she disregarded it, exclaiming grimly, “I wonder if the occupant of the secret chamber will discover the means of exit?”
“Suppose he faileth? What then?”
“He will share the fate that hath befallen others immured there,” she answered, raising her arched brows slightly.
“Immured there by thee?” I hazarded, smiling.
“No,” she replied, with a musical laugh. “Thou must not judge me with such harshness, even though my life hath become embittered by captivity in the harem of a monster I hated.”
Suddenly I recollected the strange recovery of my mysterious talisman, the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, which was now reposing safely in its case within one of the bags beneath me. Evidently it had been hidden with other booty taken from the caravan with which I had travelled by some one who had regarded it with curiosity.
“Is the existence of that hidden prison known to anyone besides thyself?” I inquired.
“Why askest thou that question? Art thou afraid my lord will escape ere we reach a place of safety?” she exclaimed, with a low, rippling laugh.
“No,” I replied. “I have a serious object in seeking information.”
“What, wert thou troubled by unwelcome visitors?” she asked, smiling mischievously.
“No; on the contrary, the silence was appalling and the companionship of the dead horrible.”
“Ah, forgive me!” she exclaimed apologetically. “It was not my fault that I could not have the place cleared of the bones. There was no time. But in my written message I told thee to fear not.”
“But whoever placed me there knew of the secret entrance,” I urged.
“True,” she answered. “Two of my slaves—he who guideth us towards the encampment of the Ennitra and the man leading yonder camel—carried thee to thine underground tomb, and placed food there for thee.”
Her words gave me instant explanation. From the first the countenance of our guide had seemed familiar, and I now remembered where I had seen it. He was one of those who had held me when the Mysterious Crescent had been wrenched so suddenly from my grasp! No doubt it had come into his possession with other loot, which, in order to secure to himself, he had hidden in that place where none could obtain entrance. As he rode on top of his camel quite close to me, I peered into his dark, aquiline face and found its features unmistakable. It was he who had secured me, who had subjected me to slavery, and who had mounted guard over me until I had been purchased by the agent of the Sultan Hámed. Apparently he had not recognised me, and as I again held my treasure safely in my own keeping, I had no desire to claim acquaintance with this slave, who was himself a slave-raider. They were all brave, sturdy fellows, loyal to their mistress, a quality that I admired, for both she and I had interests in common in putting a respectable distance between ourselves and the irate Sheikh of the Kel-Fadê.
“If thy people seek my death, am I not unwise in accompanying thee into their midst?” I queried, after a pause.
“By thine aid I, one of their daughters, have escaped from the bonds of their enemies, therefore fear not, for though the Ennitra rule the Desert harshly with rifle and bastinado, they harm not those who lend them assistance.”
I told her of my first experience of Hadj Absalam, and how I had been tortured with the snake, concealing the fact that Zoraida had set me at liberty.
“Tabakoh câsi. (His disposition is cruel.) He is hated even by our own people,” she exclaimed, when I had concluded. “His brutality is fiendish to us and to strangers alike; but when Infidels are brought into his presence, his rage is absolutely ungovernable. Thy torture was not so horrible as some I myself have witnessed. Once, near Téhe-n-Aïeren, at the foot of Mount El Aghil, a young Zouave soldier strayed into our camp, and, being captured, was brought before him. Because the Infidel’s eyes had rested upon one of his women, he ordered them both to be gouged out and sent to the French commandant at Ideles. Then the man’s ears followed, then his nose, then his hands, and after keeping him alive in fearful torture for nearly three weeks, the body of the wretched prisoner was covered with date juice and placed upon an ant-hill, where he was literally devoured by the insects.”
“Horrible!” I said, shuddering. “Are such tortures common among thy tribe?”
“Alas!” she answered, rearranging her pillow; “cruelties such as these are frequently practised, even upon us. Neither men, women, nor children are safe. Those who give our mighty lord offence always pay the penalty with their lives, but never before they have been tortured.”
“Yet thou art anxious to return among them?”
“Yes,” she replied, with an earnest look. As she lay curled up in her cage-like litter, she had the air of a little savage with the grace of a child. “I do not wish to be loved as I have been, like a slave,” she added in a confidential tone.
“But thou hast ruled the harem of the Sheikh, and hast been chief of his great household,” I observed.
“True,” she answered. “But there are circumstances in our lives we cannot forget; there are people who dwell always in the house of our memory.”
I nodded. The truth was easily guessed.
“Two days before being torn from my people,” she continued bitterly, “I met, by mere chance, a man of mine own people whom I have never ceased to remember. It was a chance meeting, and by no fault of mine own was my veil drawn aside. Neither of us spoke, but I knew we loved each other. My father told me he was one of the most daring of the men-at-arms Hadj Absalam sends against thehomards, a notorious thief and cut-throat, to secure whose capture the Roumis away at Algiers have offered two bags of gold.” She sighed, then added simply, “Though he may be a murderer, I shall love him, even until Allah bringeth me to Certainty.” (The hour of death.)
She spoke with the passionate ardour of her race. The love of the Arab woman knows neither the shame nor the duplicity of vice. Proud of her submission as a slave, she can love even a murderer without losing any of her self-respect. In her eyes, her tenderness is legitimate; her glory is to conquer the heart. The man she loves is her master, she abandons herself to him without failing in any duty. A daughter of Al-Islâm, she fulfils her destiny according to the moral traditions and beliefs of her country, and she remains faithful to them by loving the man she chooses; her religion has no other rule, her virtue no other law.
“And you have escaped in order to seek this man?” I observed, smoking calmly.
“Yes. I seek him because I love him. His eyes gave me a sign of affection, the remembrance of which time hath not effaced. I shall find him, even though I am compelled to journey from Ghat to Mequinez, or from the Tsâd to Algiers.” The eventuality did not occur to her that, being a warrior of an outlaw band, his bones might long ago have been bleaching in the Desert like those of so many of his fellow marauders. Such a thought, I reflected, would cause her acute anxiety, therefore I did not suggest it. She was hopeful, confident, content; tender and passionate in her love, fierce and relentless in her revenge. Night had fallen, and as under the myriad stars we travelled over rising ground towards the camp of the Desert pirates, she formed a delightful study. Her ingenuous ignorance and intuition of coquetry, the Eastern fascination striving with modest reserve, charmed and amused me, and although the wind commenced to blow up choking clouds of fine sand, compelling her to adjust her veil, yet she would not draw the curtains of herjakfi, but continued chatting until we halted an hour after dawn.
The slave guiding us predicted a sandstorm, therefore, before encamping, we turned our faces towards the Holy City, and, as pious travellers, recited the Hizb al-Bahr, the prayer which is supposed to make all safe on either land or sea. Halima with her slaves prostrated themselves upon the sand, and in impressive tones repeated aloud the prayer that commences—
“O Allah, O Exalted, O Almighty, O All-pitiful, O All-powerful, Thou art my God, and sufficeth to me the knowledge of it!” and which has the following strange conclusion:—“Thou didst subject the Moon and Al-Burak to Mohammed, upon whom be Allah’s mercy and His blessing! And subject unto us all the Seas in Earth and Heaven, in Thy visible and in Thine invisible Worlds, the Sea of this Life, and the Sea of Futurity. O Thou who reignest over everything, and unto whom all Things return.Khyas! Khyas! Khyas!” (Mystic words that cannot be translated.)
Halima told me afterwards that in this great waterless region of shifting sand, so fraught with perils, a storm was always brewing and the dreaded poison-wind always blowing, therefore men raised their hands to pray as they crossed it.
At sunrise three days later my pretty companion was lying unveiled in herjakfi, smoking and chatting to me, her two women riding a little distance behind, when our guide suddenly raised a loud shout of warning which in a moment alarmed the whole caravan. Halima instinctively twisted her veil across her face as she inquired the cause.
The slave drew up his camel near her, replying, while he glanced to make certain that his gun was loaded, “Know, O beauteous Lalla, that we are discovered! Six mysterious, armed horsemen are spurring towards us!” and with his finger he indicated the direction in which his keen, hawk-like eyes had detected them. We all gazed away into the dusky grey where he pointed, and there I saw several mounted Bedouins tearing headlong across the desert in our direction, their long guns held high above their heads, and their white draperies flowing in the wind.
Each of us grasped our rifles, prepared to fight for the protection of our fair charge, while Halima herself, pale and determined, drew a long and serviceable-looking poignard from her girdle and felt its edge. It was evident that the strangers had from afar espied Halima’sjakfi, and were resolved to possess themselves of its occupant. In this country of lawless slave-raiders those who show fight are treated with scant mercy, therefore we could expect no quarter, and dismounted ready for the combat. On came the horsemen, fleet as the wind, until they got within a short distance of us, when suddenly, without slackening, and still holding their weapons high above them, they poured out a sharp, decisive volley upon us. It was a warning that they intended attack, and that we might surrender if we were so disposed. The bullets sang over our heads unpleasantly, but no one was hit, and without hesitation our seven rifles rang out almost simultaneously. Again and again we fired, but without result, for the six fierce Sons of the Desert galloped onward, shouting a weird war-cry, and dashed in upon us, calling upon us to lay down our arms. One of them, evidently the leader, swinging himself from his grey stallion, seized Halima by the wrist before we could prevent him, but in a second, with a sudden movement, the harem beauty had slashed him with her dagger, inflicting an ugly wound across his hairy arm.
Raising his rifle, he would have shot her dead, had not one of her slaves flung himself between them, crying—
“Pause, O strangers! Tell us of what tribe thou art. If thou leviest tax upon us in this thy country, our Lalla is prepared to accede to thy just demands. If a hand is raised against her, the wrath of the Kel-Fadê will assuredly fall upon thee!”
“Naught care we for the Kel-Fadê, who are accursed by Allah, for they pray not, neither go they upon pilgrimages!” the man answered, with a harsh laugh. “From the waters of the Tsâd, even unto the green slopes of the Atlas, we hold power supreme, and none dare withstand us, for we are feared alike by the Roumis of Algeria and the True Believers of the Desert.” Then, brandishing hisjambiyah(a very keen crooked dagger) above his head, he added, “We are of the Ennitra, and our lord is the mighty Hadj Absalam, Sultan of the Sahara!”
“Then hear me, O brothers!” Halima exclaimed in a loud, firm voice. “I am thy sister!”
“Our sister? But thou art of the Kel-Fadê, our enemies!” the horsemen cried with one accord.
“True. Hear thou mine explanation. Dost thou not remember that the Kel-Fadê—whom may Allah confound!—attacked and burned our village of Afara Aouhan?”
“The sons of dogs killed my father in the massacre,” declared one of the men, a brawny giant, who stood leaning on his gun.
“Mine shared the same fate. He was theoukil,” cried the beautiful girl, whose veil had in the struggle been torn away.
“His name—quick!” exclaimed the leader of the marauders in surprise.
“Hámed ben Abderrahman.”
“Then thou art—”
“His daughter Halima.”
The black-bearded scoundrel immediately released her, and, bowing, expressed sorrow at having caused her undue alarm, after which, in a few quick sentences, she told him of her captivity and her escape, afterwards presenting me as one by whose aid she was enabled to return to her own people. She did not, however, declare me to be a Christian, therefore they thanked me and gave me peace. They told us that we were distant three hours from the encampment, which they, as scouts, were guarding, but advised us to rest till sundown, as the poison-wind was unusually virulent. Acting upon their suggestion, our tents were pitched, and the six outlaws ate with us, afterwards wrapping themselves in their burnouses and sleeping through the long, blazing day. From them I could gather but little regarding the movements of their people, and though I mentioned that I had heard many reports of the wondrous powers possessed by their Daughter of the Sun, they nevertheless preserved a studied silence. They did not even descant upon her beauty, as I expected they would do. They only grunted approbation. Towards four o’clock, Halima, wrapped in her haick, came from her tent, and very shortly afterwards we were on our way to the camp, guided by the six cut-throats of Hadj Absalam, who rode along with careless ease, carrying their weapons across their saddles, smoking cigarettes, and talking gaily. Strange indeed was this latest freak of Fate. Long had I regarded these people as the most deadly of my enemies, yet I was now entering their camp as their friend!
Our way wound among bare rocks and hills of granite and over broken ground, weird in its desolation, flanked by high blocks and boulders. Several parties of horsemen, evidently scouts, appeared, but, on recognising our escort, allowed us to pass unmolested, until at length, about the hour ofel maghrib, we came to a vast cleft in the hideous face of earth, and, passing through, found ourselves in a valley in the midst of a great encampment. The ravine seemed covered with tents; indeed, it appeared as if a whole army had encamped there, and I was not surprised when one of the outlaws told me that the fighting force numbered over three thousand.
On descending the rocky defile, I saw in an open space in the centre of the camping-ground three tents close together and more handsome than the rest, while against the clear, rose-tinted evening sky there waved over the centre pavilion the dreaded green silken banner of Hadj Absalam.
“Then thy lord is present with thee?” I exclaimed in surprise, addressing the marauder who rode beside me.
“Yes. When he leadeth us we fear no evil, for he is the Great Sultan of the Sahara, who cannot be overthrown.”
Wending our way slowly onward among the tents, our arrival caused a good deal of excitement and speculation among the robbers, who doubtless believed us to be captives. One incident impressed me as especially remarkable. Just as we had entered the camp, three women, enshrouded in silken haicks and wearing their ugly, out-door trousers, were strolling together slowly, as if enjoying the cool zephyr after the breathless day.
No word escaped either of them, but one reeled and clutched her companion’s arm, excited and trembling, as if her eyes had met an apparition. I smiled at her intense agitation, wondering whether she had recognised in Halima a hated rival; but until we had turned to wend our way among the tents, she stood motionless, staring at us fixedly through the small aperture of her veil, apparently much to the consternation of her two companions.
The tragic little scene, though unusual, was apparently not noticed by my companions.
Was it Halima’s presence that caused the closely-veiled woman such sudden and profound consternation—or was it mine?
Chapter Thirty Five.Betrayed!That night, as I lay without undressing in the little tent the outlaws of the Desert had assigned to me, I was kept awake for a long time by the sound of voices and the clang of arms. While half the camp slept, the remainder were apparently cleaning their rifles, and sharpening theirjambiyahs, preparatory, I presumed, to some wild foray. For a long time I lay wondering whether Halima would find her undeclared lover in the camp, or whether he was lying in the sand, sleeping until the blast of Israfîl’s golden trumpet. Under my pillow reposed the time-worn case containing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, but my letter of introduction had, alas! been filched from me by Labakan. Was it not possible, I thought, that this evil-faced scoundrel was in the camp. If so, what more probable than that, finding he had not killed me as he intended, he would denounce me to Hadj Absalam as the Roumi who had escaped them after being condemned to death? Such reflections were not calculated to induce sleep; nevertheless, weakened as I was by my wound, the journey had greatly fatigued me, and at last I grew drowsy and unconscious, and became haunted by strange dreams.I must have been asleep for some hours when a light pressure upon my shoulder awakened me.“Utter not a word,” whispered a soft female voice in my ear. “Danger besetteth thee, but thou, O stranger, art with friends solicitous of thy welfare.”Turning, I glanced upward, and the streak of moonlight that entered revealed a woman enshrouded so completely by her garments that I could not tell whether she were old or young.“Who art thou?” I whispered, now wide awake and on the alert at her warning of danger. About her there clung an odour of attar of rose.“I am but a messenger. Rise and follow me in silence,” she answered.“Whither dost thou desire to conduct me?” I inquired, rather dubiously, for I had a vague, apprehensive feeling now that I was among these murderous outlaws.“To the presence of one who must speak with thee immediately. Ask no further question, for in a few moments thine eyes shall behold, and thine ears shall hear.”Silent and motionless she stood awaiting me, looking like a ghost in the bright moon’s rays. Wondering who desired an interview with me at that hour, and half suspecting that Halima had something secret to communicate, I rose, replaced my haick, rearranged the hang of my burnouse, and then announced my readiness to accompany my mysterious visitant.“There is no Ilah but Allah,” the woman whispered piously. “May the Ruler of Death grant unto thee perfect peace!”“And upon thee peace,” I answered, as in obedience to her silent injunction indicated by her raised finger, I followed her stealthily out.“Let thy lips be sealed,” she whispered, conducting me past many tents the occupants of which were soundly sleeping. Silently we sped onward, until we came to the open space, in the centre of which were erected the three pavilions of the pirate chieftain. The entrance to the centre one was guarded by four superbly-dressed negroes with drawn scimitars, who stood motionless as statues. On seeing me, they raised their glittering blades, and made a sudden movement as if to bar my progress, but on a sign from my veiled guide they immediately fell back, allowing us to pass unmolested. Next second, however, a man’s voice sounded, and the armed outlaws closed around me. I glanced back, and saw in the white moonbeams the crafty, villainous face of Labakan!He laughed exultantly, as I saw to my chagrin how cleverly I had been tricked.Helpless in the hands of these five armed warriors of the plains, I was hurried unceremoniously into the large and luxurious pavilion. On the ground rich rugs were spread, and divans had been improvised out of saddles and boxes. Above, from a lamp of curiously-worked brass, a subdued light fell upon the occupants, three men who, stretched at their ease, were smoking. The central figure, attired in a large white turban and a rich robe of bright amaranth silk, was that of an old man of patriarchal appearance, and as he lifted his head at our entrance, our eyes met.It was Hadj Absalam!Betrayed into the hands of my enemy, I stood helpless and dismayed. I had hoped he would not recognise me, and that I should pass as the rescuer of Halima until an opportunity of escape presented itself; but, alas! some one had detected me, and, without doubt, the person responsible for my discovery was the adroit assassin Labakan, the self-styled Grand Vizier of the Sahara, who now stood grinning with pleasure at my discomfiture.Removing his chibouk, the Pirate of the Desert glared at me fiercely for several moments without uttering a word, slowly raising himself into a sitting posture, an example followed by his two brutal-looking companions. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke that seemed to hang like a pall over the three occupants of the divan.Labakan, raising his brown, sinewy hand towards me, was the first to break the painful silence.“Behold! O gracious Master!” he cried. “Report hath not lied. Thine enemy liveth!”The great Sheikh of the Ennitra rose, his countenance livid with rage.“Lo! it is verily the accursed son of Eblis, thief of our secrets!” he burst forth in fiery passion. “At length thou art revealed unto us! Thou—who hast brought upon us despair, defeat, and death, who hast defiled the land that we inhabit—art now within our power, and, upon the Book of Everlasting Will, I swear thou shalt not escape. For many moons hast thou evaded us, and though our horsemen have scoured the plains of Ahaggar, the Areg, and the Ahír, even unto the waterless Desert of Tibbou, in search of thee, thou disappearest like the shadow of a cloud. Neither the terrors of the wilderness, nor the knife of our servant Labakan, have daunted thee, but at last thy career hath ended—at last thy doom is nigh!” he cried, thundering forth the final sentence, and shaking his clenched and sinewy fist.“True, O Ruler of the Desert,” I answered, as he paused to take breath, “I have again fallen into thine hands, yet the judgments of the Bedouins are tempered with—”“Again?” he ejaculated, his black eyes full of angry fire. “All yes! I remember. Thou wert put to the torture which we reserve for dogs of thine accursed race, and thy strength burst the bonds that held thee.”“The influence of this son of an unbeliever, who hath stolen our power, was the cause of our defeat when our brave sons attacked thehomardson the Oasis of Meskam,” added Labakan, apparently determined that the Great Sheikh should forget none of the allegations against me.“The Ruler of the Desert hath no need of the promptings of a secret assassin,” I exclaimed, fiercely turning upon him.“Silence, dog!” roared the Bedouin chieftain. “Add not to thy crimes by thus rebuking Allah’s chosen. By thy clever machinations hast thou learned our secrets and divested us of our power. Thrice have the armed men of thy brethren, the Infidels, attacked and defeated us; thrice have we been compelled to flee from those who have plotted to conquer the True Believers, and all owing to thy crafty theft of the unseen power that once was ours. While thou livest, thou bearest upon thee influence to work our destruction wheresoever we go, but when thou hast been consigned to the darkness of Hâwiyat, then will power and success return unto our people. Ere to-morrow’s sun hath set, thou shalt be a corpse, for Allah is swift in punishing.”“He, the One to be praised, is also gracious and merciful,” I added. “Dost thou, who hast performed thysujdahwithin the Harem of Al-Medinah, forget thy Korân?” I asked reproachfully.“Mention not our Faith with thy polluted lips!” he cried, adding, ”‘The Infidels are smitten with vileness wheresoever they are found.’”These words of the Prophet, with which he endeavoured to crush my argument, gave the utmost satisfaction to the men about me, who murmured approbation in an undertone, and nodded their heads expressive of admiration at the wisdom of their sinister-faced, tyrannical chief.“For many moons have I dwelt within thy land, O mighty Sultan of the Sahara,” I said. “Though I have ever acted with honour towards thy people of Al-Islâm, yet I am far spent with travel, and clothed with calamity as with a garment. Why seekest thou my death?”“Have I not already told thee? Thou hast filched from us the wondrous secret power by which we vanquished our enemies; the unseen force that hath enabled us to rule the Desert. While thou remainest alive, of a surety ruin and extinction threaten us.”“But I am, alas! ignorant of thy strange allegation,” I said, earnestly endeavouring to get the angry Arab to speak more calmly. “By what means have I taken from thee this extraordinary influence that once was thine? Tell me, for a slave may not be condemned for an unknown crime.”“Thou knowest well,” he answered distinctly, with loud emphasis and glittering eye, placing one hand upon the hilt of his jewelledjambiyah, and standing erect with regal air. “It is useless for thee to deny deeds which have worked our defeat, and actions that must ere long be the cause of our downfall.”“I deny nothing, O mighty Sheikh of the Ennitra,” I protested. “Years ago, thy valiant race filled me with admiration, and because of that, I learned to speak thy tongue, and read the commands of the Prophet. Times without number have I been the willing servant of thy people of Al-Islâm; nay, even to-day have I brought hither under my protection a fair woman of thy tribe, whom I assisted to escape from a harem in the land of thine enemies.”“A woman?” he exclaimed, with an expression of surprise, and, turning to his attendants, asked, “Who is she?”“She is named Halima, O Master,” answered Labakan. “To me hath she explained that the Infidel intended to convey her to his own land, and only by a ruse did she succeed in getting to our camp. He carried her off from the harem of the Sheikh of the Kel-Fadê, in order to possess her himself.”“Miserable parasites!” ejaculated Hadj Absalam angrily, on hearing the mention of the hostile tribe, “May their vitals be devoured by insects, and may their bodies be given unto the wild beasts! Did the chief of these locusts of the sands hold our kinswoman in bondage?”“Yes,” I answered. “We escaped from the palace of the Sheikh together.”“Behold, O Master!” said the bandit who had attempted to kill me. “He admits that they journeyed in company. He tried by force to cause her to fly with him across the Atlas and beyond the sea, unto the land of the Infidels.”“It’s a lie!” I shouted warmly. “Bring her hither, and let her, O Sheikh, relate unto thee her story.”“Already she hath told it,” the old chieftain replied. “Already thou art proved to be no respecter of our women, for thine eyes have defiled their unveiled faces, and by thy speeches hast thou caused them to forget the commands of the Prophet, and look upon thee, a white-faced son of offal, with favour.”“My acquaintance with any woman of thy race will not preclude her from drinking of the fountain of Salsabil,” (a spring in Paradise), I answered defiantly.“Thou wilt deny next that thou hast ever spoken with our beauteous Daughter of the Sun!” exclaimed the irate Despot of the Desert, who, as he uttered Zoraida’s name, bowed low in reverence, an example imitated by all his followers.“I deny not my actions, neither shall I attempt to refute the allegations made against me by a murderer,” I answered.My captors laughed jeeringly. I knew by their manner that they were determined that I should die, and I expected no mercy. Yet, despite an inward feeling of despair, I determined to show a bold front. I had been betrayed; but they should not see that I feared them.“Secretly hast thou entered her private apartment, and remained there alone with her. To thee, son of Malec (the principal angel who has charge of hell), she hath disclosed our secrets—secrets which thou now holdest; hence, thou art the one Infidel in the world who possessest power to work evil upon us.”“Whatever secrets I may have learned I have not used,” I protested firmly. “With me a secret remaineth always a secret.”One of the men who had been reclining on a divan smoking, rose, whispering a word into the ear of his angry master. For a moment Hadj Absalam reflected, then asked: “What was the nature of this secret revealed unto thee?”“To the Lalla Zoraida I promised not to disclose.”“But if, peradventure, I chose to regard thy crimes leniently,—if I even spared thy life,—wouldst thou not explain the nature of the secret wonders thine eyes have beholden?”“No,” I answered firmly. “Not all the Treasure of Askiá, added to my liberty, would unlock my lips.”“The Treasure of Askiá!” gasped the Hadj, glancing quickly round to his attendants with an expression of amazement and alarm that reflected itself upon their countenances. “What knowest thou of it?”“In the Desert I learned the story of the great king’s hidden wealth,” I replied innocently.“Ah!” cried the Sheikh, with sudden ferocity. “I had expected as much. Truly thou art a son of Eblis whose actions are accursed; truly hast thou tasted of the bitter fruit of Al-Zakkum, which hath its roots in hell!”“Peace be upon thee, O Ruler!” I said. “Thy servant knoweth naught of any such thing as this whereof thou speakest, for never hath he committed any deed to warrant this thy wrath.” But he flew into a fit of uncontrollable rage, and hurled upon me every curse that his voluble tongue could utter. To argue was useless. I tried to induce him to explain how I had stolen from his people the secret of their victories, declaring that I held no power which could detract from the success of their raids. But he would vouchsafe no answer to my questions, and only shouted his intention of submitting me to a most horrible series of tortures, before my body should be given to the vultures. The old despot’s anger was fearful to behold. He stamped, he raved, he tore into shreds his silken garments, and actually foamed at the mouth.Voiceless, I stood before him. Amid these fierce marauders, who regarded not the lives of enemies or friends and were awaiting impatiently the order to hurry me off to my death, I was a doomed man. The frowns of Fortune had never been so ominous as at that moment.Suddenly he paused, panting and breathless, his eyes aflame with hatred, and his face hideously distorted by anger and revenge.“Speak, dog of a Christian!” he shouted. “Speak! or, by the Prophet and the One, thy profane tongue shall be torn out by the roots. How earnest thou to possess thyself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders? What hath its possession availed thee? Answer, or—”There was a sudden movement among the men behind me, who with one accord uttered ejaculations of surprise, as the Sheikh’s threat was interrupted by a loud voice crying—“Silence! Let not another word pass thy lips, on pain of the most damnifying curses that tongue can utter!”Turning sharply to ascertain who dared thus command the dreaded Sultan of the Sahara to close his lips, I beheld a woman with bare, beautifully-moulded arm outstretched, pointing imperiously towards the proud, regal figure on the divan. The pirate Sheikh trembled before her, staggered as if he had received a blow, then stood silent, not daring to complete the sentence.Her sudden appearance had caused a pallor to creep over his countenance, as anger gave place to fear.Advancing, the strange veiled figure stood before the divan just in front of me, with face turned away and arm still uplifted, as in the lamplight her bracelets flashed and gleamed with dazzling brilliancy. She was a veritable Light of the Harem, dressed superbly in gauzy garments of palest mauve, with magnificent jewels in her hair, upon her brow, upon her bare white breast, and upon her delicate ankles. Her heavy golden girdle was richly studded with rubies and sapphires; her long dark tresses, unbound, fell in rich profusion upon her bare shoulders; and about her there clung a sweet, subtle breath of geranium that filled my nostrils. Her attitude was marked with a strange suppleness, astonishingly graceful, and the men who had held me captive before their tyrannical master fell back, as if awestricken by her dazzling presence.“Hearken!” she exclaimed in clear, musical Arabic, as she unwound the veil from her face. “Knowest thou me?”“We do! Peace be upon thee, O beauteous Woman of Wisdom, O Lady amongst Women!” they answered with one accord, even to the Sheikh himself, all bowing before her abashed.“Then behold! I stand at thy divan of judgment to answer for the offences of this Roumi, who hath, by cowardly device, been delivered into thine hands!”Turning, she suddenly faced me. I was rendered mute by amazement. The woman before whom these outlaws bowed as if in worship was none other than Zoraida!Upon me there gazed, with unmistakable glances of affection, the calm, beautiful face that had for so long existed only in my dreams, but which was at this moment before me, a living reality!For an instant my tongue refused to articulate, but, dashing forward and seizing her right hand, I rained kisses upon it, notwithstanding the fierce, guttural exclamations of disapproval uttered on all sides by my enemies. That the lips of an Infidel should thus defile a woman of Al-Islâm, was to them infamous; but in that brief second, the woman I loved whispered in imperfect French—“Obey. I may save thee!”The horrible souvenir I had received in Algiers flashed across my mind, and I sought her hand. Almost beside myself with joy, I found it was intact and uninjured! The severed member that had been sent me, and afterwards stolen so mysteriously, was not Zoraida’s!“By what right dost thou, O Daughter of the Sun, interfere between thy Ruler and his foes?” the old Sheikh asked angrily at that moment.“Against me have thine unfounded allegations been levelled,” she answered bitterly, standing by my side, holding my hand in hers. “It is true that this Roumi and I have met, and that he holdeth certain secrets; but I warn thee that if a hair of his head is injured, of a surety will the fearful vengeance of the Unknown fall upon and crush thee and thy people.”“Thou canst not—thou shalt not wrest him from our hands!” cried Hadj Absalam, boiling over with rage. “My will hath already been spoken. He shall die!”“Then the peril is thine,” she said in slow, impressive tones. Her hand quivered, and I could see that she was trembling lest her bold and gallant effort to save my life should prove unavailing.“Already hath he brought the direst evil upon us,” cried the Ruler of the Ennitra. “Besides, for aught we know, he may be the mysterious stranger who, according to report, was present as spy at a meeting of the Ghuzzat, held by the Kel-Fadê, and who escaped so strangely.”“How thinkest thou that a Roumi can understand our symbols of the serpents? Even if he were the mysterious eavesdropper, what could he have gathered with regard to our brotherhood?” she asked, adding, “It seemeth thou art determined to take his life, so thou formulatest unfounded charges against him!”“Bah! he is thy lover,” the sinister-faced old brigand observed, with a sneer. “In thine eyes he is no doubt innocent.”“I acknowledge that upon mine own head should be the punishment for the evils that have befallen our people. Yet, nevertheless, I declare unto thee—”“If thou lovest a dog of an Infidel,” cried Hadj Absalam, interrupting, “thou art no longer worthy our confidence.” Then, turning to those about him, he asked, “Do I give utterance to thy thoughts?”“Yes. Thy words are words of wisdom, O Ruler,” they answered with one voice.Releasing my hand, she raised her alabaster-like arm towards the chief of the outlaws, exclaiming in a loud voice, “If the Ennitra have no longer confidence in me, I will to-night sever the bond that bindeth me to them. Into battle have I led thy people many times, against Infidel and the enemy of our own race alike, and thou hast vanquished thy foes, and compelled them to bite the dust. Against thee have the legions of France been arrayed, yet powerless, and at this moment, thou, Hadj Absalam, art the mighty Sultan of the Sahara, the ruler whose power causeth all men to tremble, from Ghat even unto far Timbuktu. To-day thou hast advanced to this spot hopeful and confident, prepared to wage a war that must be bloody and deadly; but as thou hast lost faith in thy Daughter of the Sun, I shall leave thee to thine own devices. If thou killest the man I love, I shall depart. We twain are in thine hands.”“Canst thou not, O Ruler, kill the false Prophetess too?” suggested a voice from behind. I recognised the tones as those of Labakan!“If thou takest my life, thou too wilt fall within one moon under the fiery scimitar of Azraïl, even though each man hath the strength of Jalût and the courage of Al-Jassâsa,” she exclaimed, with the calm dignity of a queen.The men jeered at her prophetic utterances, but she looked at them with withering scorn, and heeded them not. For my life she was striving, and cared for naught else. Her beauty intoxicated me, and I stood, even in those critical moments, entranced, as I had before been, by her extraordinary loveliness.“Al-Sijil hath registered thy deeds,” she continued, casting calm, imperious looks at the brigandish band about her. “If thou committest the crime of shedding the blood of those who possess the power by which thou existest as the most powerful people of the Desert, thou wilt assuredly never lave in the stream Zenjebil.”Her words created a visible impression upon them, and seriously they whispered among themselves, until suddenly their Sheikh addressed them, saying—“Already have I decided that the Infidel shall be put to the torture, that his ears shall be cut off, his eyes put out, and his tongue removed. Are those thy wishes?”“Thy will be done, O Ruler,” they answered; and Labakan added, “Our Woman of Wisdom hath no longer power to lead us unto victory. She is enamoured of this accursed Christian dog who bringest the direst evil upon us.”“Then away with him!” cried Hadj Absalam, waving his arm towards me. “Let his hands be lopped off, and let his end be one of long suffering.”Four men seized me roughly, and were dragging me out, when Zoraida, advancing a few steps, uttered a final earnest appeal. In her beautiful face was a look of intense anxiety, as she stood alone in the centre of the pavilion, pale, erect, queenly.“Hearken!” she cried wildly. “If this man—who is not our enemy—be put to death, remember that upon thee will fall the curses of one whose incantations can produce good or evil, life or death! Thou sayest that he holdeth the power that I should hold, but I tell thee—”“Hath he not by thine aid possessed himself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders?” interrupted the Sheikh.“The Crescent is no longer possessed by an Infidel,” she answered quickly. “During a fight with the Kel-Fadê it was lost, and hath since that time lain undiscovered.”“I found it at—”“Hush! Remain silent,” she whispered, speaking in broken French and glancing at me significantly.“The Crescent, O Mighty Ruler, hath been seen in his saddle-bag,” Labakan urged, muttering a curse under his breath.“The leathern case may be there,” continued Zoraida, with intense earnestness, “but undoubtedly the Crescent of Strange Wonders, the mysterious secret of which is as impenetrable as the wall of Dhu’lkarnein (built to prevent the incursions of Gog and Magog), was lost among the plunder secured by our enemies. It is probably still in the hands of the Kel-Fadê.”“Let the Infidel’s saddle-bags be at once searched,” ordered the chieftain, and two men hurried forth with that object. I stood anxious to see what turn events would take when the strange object was found secreted in the bag that had served me as pillow, but judge my amazement when, a few minutes later, the men returned with the case, declaring that they had found it empty! Had it again been stolen from me? When they announced the futility of their errand, a smile of satisfaction played about Zoraida’s mouth, a fact which puzzled me when I reflected how explicit her instructions had been over its safe custody.“If it remaineth in the hands of the Kel-Fadê, we must compel them to restore it, or fight as an alternative,” said the Sheikh decisively. “We must repossess ourselves of it at all hazards;” adding thoughtfully, “The Great Secret which it conceals must be revealed unto us. Knowledge of its utility in revealing the mystery must be obtained, even at the point of the sword.”On all hands muttered words of approbation greeted this declaration. Then, after a slight pause, he continued—“If the Roumi possesseth not the Crescent, he cannot hold our vanished power!”“Why then should he die?” queried the woman whose face had mastery over me.“Because he is of the accursed race, and hath defiled with his eyes thine own countenance, and those of other of our daughters.”“But thou wilt not darken the world unto me at this moment—when I am leading thee to glorious success and the acquisition of great wealth?” she urged on my behalf.“And if he liveth—what then?”“He will accompany us. The country we are entering is already known unto him, thus will he be enabled to choose our route, and lead us to a great and decisive victory,” she argued.The old Sheikh paused, consulting in an undertone with his two advisers who had smoked on in contemplative silence. Anxiously Zoraida and I awaited their verdict, not without feelings of despair, for we both had realised the terrible prejudice against me. At last, however, Hadj Absalam exclaimed—“The sentence of death by torture having been declared upon the Infidel, it must remain. Nevertheless, it will not be carried out until the result of our expedition hath been seen. If we are victorious, then shall he lead us against the Kel-Fadê, in order to recover the Crescent of Glorious Wonders.”“My Amîn!” whispered Zoraida in French, with tears of joy in her brilliant eyes. “Thou hast a brief respite; use it well. We must now part, but remember that I love thee always—always!”“But the Crescent?” I gasped. “How shall I act?”“Remain patient. For the present thou art safe, but be wary of the man who hath already attempted to take thy life. He may strike thee a secret blow at the orders of Hadj Absalam. Go thou back to thy tent and sleep, and when opportunity ariseth, I will communicate with thee, and direct thy footsteps unto the path of freedom.”Then, snatching up her flimsy veil, she deftly twisted it across her face, and walked out with regal gait, proudly acknowledging the obeisance of the dark-faced outlaws, who in apparent fear bowed before her.A few minutes later, I was back again in the tent from which I had been so mysteriously called, and until the dawn, sat coolly contemplating the remarkable and unexpected turn events had taken.
That night, as I lay without undressing in the little tent the outlaws of the Desert had assigned to me, I was kept awake for a long time by the sound of voices and the clang of arms. While half the camp slept, the remainder were apparently cleaning their rifles, and sharpening theirjambiyahs, preparatory, I presumed, to some wild foray. For a long time I lay wondering whether Halima would find her undeclared lover in the camp, or whether he was lying in the sand, sleeping until the blast of Israfîl’s golden trumpet. Under my pillow reposed the time-worn case containing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, but my letter of introduction had, alas! been filched from me by Labakan. Was it not possible, I thought, that this evil-faced scoundrel was in the camp. If so, what more probable than that, finding he had not killed me as he intended, he would denounce me to Hadj Absalam as the Roumi who had escaped them after being condemned to death? Such reflections were not calculated to induce sleep; nevertheless, weakened as I was by my wound, the journey had greatly fatigued me, and at last I grew drowsy and unconscious, and became haunted by strange dreams.
I must have been asleep for some hours when a light pressure upon my shoulder awakened me.
“Utter not a word,” whispered a soft female voice in my ear. “Danger besetteth thee, but thou, O stranger, art with friends solicitous of thy welfare.”
Turning, I glanced upward, and the streak of moonlight that entered revealed a woman enshrouded so completely by her garments that I could not tell whether she were old or young.
“Who art thou?” I whispered, now wide awake and on the alert at her warning of danger. About her there clung an odour of attar of rose.
“I am but a messenger. Rise and follow me in silence,” she answered.
“Whither dost thou desire to conduct me?” I inquired, rather dubiously, for I had a vague, apprehensive feeling now that I was among these murderous outlaws.
“To the presence of one who must speak with thee immediately. Ask no further question, for in a few moments thine eyes shall behold, and thine ears shall hear.”
Silent and motionless she stood awaiting me, looking like a ghost in the bright moon’s rays. Wondering who desired an interview with me at that hour, and half suspecting that Halima had something secret to communicate, I rose, replaced my haick, rearranged the hang of my burnouse, and then announced my readiness to accompany my mysterious visitant.
“There is no Ilah but Allah,” the woman whispered piously. “May the Ruler of Death grant unto thee perfect peace!”
“And upon thee peace,” I answered, as in obedience to her silent injunction indicated by her raised finger, I followed her stealthily out.
“Let thy lips be sealed,” she whispered, conducting me past many tents the occupants of which were soundly sleeping. Silently we sped onward, until we came to the open space, in the centre of which were erected the three pavilions of the pirate chieftain. The entrance to the centre one was guarded by four superbly-dressed negroes with drawn scimitars, who stood motionless as statues. On seeing me, they raised their glittering blades, and made a sudden movement as if to bar my progress, but on a sign from my veiled guide they immediately fell back, allowing us to pass unmolested. Next second, however, a man’s voice sounded, and the armed outlaws closed around me. I glanced back, and saw in the white moonbeams the crafty, villainous face of Labakan!
He laughed exultantly, as I saw to my chagrin how cleverly I had been tricked.
Helpless in the hands of these five armed warriors of the plains, I was hurried unceremoniously into the large and luxurious pavilion. On the ground rich rugs were spread, and divans had been improvised out of saddles and boxes. Above, from a lamp of curiously-worked brass, a subdued light fell upon the occupants, three men who, stretched at their ease, were smoking. The central figure, attired in a large white turban and a rich robe of bright amaranth silk, was that of an old man of patriarchal appearance, and as he lifted his head at our entrance, our eyes met.
It was Hadj Absalam!
Betrayed into the hands of my enemy, I stood helpless and dismayed. I had hoped he would not recognise me, and that I should pass as the rescuer of Halima until an opportunity of escape presented itself; but, alas! some one had detected me, and, without doubt, the person responsible for my discovery was the adroit assassin Labakan, the self-styled Grand Vizier of the Sahara, who now stood grinning with pleasure at my discomfiture.
Removing his chibouk, the Pirate of the Desert glared at me fiercely for several moments without uttering a word, slowly raising himself into a sitting posture, an example followed by his two brutal-looking companions. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke that seemed to hang like a pall over the three occupants of the divan.
Labakan, raising his brown, sinewy hand towards me, was the first to break the painful silence.
“Behold! O gracious Master!” he cried. “Report hath not lied. Thine enemy liveth!”
The great Sheikh of the Ennitra rose, his countenance livid with rage.
“Lo! it is verily the accursed son of Eblis, thief of our secrets!” he burst forth in fiery passion. “At length thou art revealed unto us! Thou—who hast brought upon us despair, defeat, and death, who hast defiled the land that we inhabit—art now within our power, and, upon the Book of Everlasting Will, I swear thou shalt not escape. For many moons hast thou evaded us, and though our horsemen have scoured the plains of Ahaggar, the Areg, and the Ahír, even unto the waterless Desert of Tibbou, in search of thee, thou disappearest like the shadow of a cloud. Neither the terrors of the wilderness, nor the knife of our servant Labakan, have daunted thee, but at last thy career hath ended—at last thy doom is nigh!” he cried, thundering forth the final sentence, and shaking his clenched and sinewy fist.
“True, O Ruler of the Desert,” I answered, as he paused to take breath, “I have again fallen into thine hands, yet the judgments of the Bedouins are tempered with—”
“Again?” he ejaculated, his black eyes full of angry fire. “All yes! I remember. Thou wert put to the torture which we reserve for dogs of thine accursed race, and thy strength burst the bonds that held thee.”
“The influence of this son of an unbeliever, who hath stolen our power, was the cause of our defeat when our brave sons attacked thehomardson the Oasis of Meskam,” added Labakan, apparently determined that the Great Sheikh should forget none of the allegations against me.
“The Ruler of the Desert hath no need of the promptings of a secret assassin,” I exclaimed, fiercely turning upon him.
“Silence, dog!” roared the Bedouin chieftain. “Add not to thy crimes by thus rebuking Allah’s chosen. By thy clever machinations hast thou learned our secrets and divested us of our power. Thrice have the armed men of thy brethren, the Infidels, attacked and defeated us; thrice have we been compelled to flee from those who have plotted to conquer the True Believers, and all owing to thy crafty theft of the unseen power that once was ours. While thou livest, thou bearest upon thee influence to work our destruction wheresoever we go, but when thou hast been consigned to the darkness of Hâwiyat, then will power and success return unto our people. Ere to-morrow’s sun hath set, thou shalt be a corpse, for Allah is swift in punishing.”
“He, the One to be praised, is also gracious and merciful,” I added. “Dost thou, who hast performed thysujdahwithin the Harem of Al-Medinah, forget thy Korân?” I asked reproachfully.
“Mention not our Faith with thy polluted lips!” he cried, adding, ”‘The Infidels are smitten with vileness wheresoever they are found.’”
These words of the Prophet, with which he endeavoured to crush my argument, gave the utmost satisfaction to the men about me, who murmured approbation in an undertone, and nodded their heads expressive of admiration at the wisdom of their sinister-faced, tyrannical chief.
“For many moons have I dwelt within thy land, O mighty Sultan of the Sahara,” I said. “Though I have ever acted with honour towards thy people of Al-Islâm, yet I am far spent with travel, and clothed with calamity as with a garment. Why seekest thou my death?”
“Have I not already told thee? Thou hast filched from us the wondrous secret power by which we vanquished our enemies; the unseen force that hath enabled us to rule the Desert. While thou remainest alive, of a surety ruin and extinction threaten us.”
“But I am, alas! ignorant of thy strange allegation,” I said, earnestly endeavouring to get the angry Arab to speak more calmly. “By what means have I taken from thee this extraordinary influence that once was thine? Tell me, for a slave may not be condemned for an unknown crime.”
“Thou knowest well,” he answered distinctly, with loud emphasis and glittering eye, placing one hand upon the hilt of his jewelledjambiyah, and standing erect with regal air. “It is useless for thee to deny deeds which have worked our defeat, and actions that must ere long be the cause of our downfall.”
“I deny nothing, O mighty Sheikh of the Ennitra,” I protested. “Years ago, thy valiant race filled me with admiration, and because of that, I learned to speak thy tongue, and read the commands of the Prophet. Times without number have I been the willing servant of thy people of Al-Islâm; nay, even to-day have I brought hither under my protection a fair woman of thy tribe, whom I assisted to escape from a harem in the land of thine enemies.”
“A woman?” he exclaimed, with an expression of surprise, and, turning to his attendants, asked, “Who is she?”
“She is named Halima, O Master,” answered Labakan. “To me hath she explained that the Infidel intended to convey her to his own land, and only by a ruse did she succeed in getting to our camp. He carried her off from the harem of the Sheikh of the Kel-Fadê, in order to possess her himself.”
“Miserable parasites!” ejaculated Hadj Absalam angrily, on hearing the mention of the hostile tribe, “May their vitals be devoured by insects, and may their bodies be given unto the wild beasts! Did the chief of these locusts of the sands hold our kinswoman in bondage?”
“Yes,” I answered. “We escaped from the palace of the Sheikh together.”
“Behold, O Master!” said the bandit who had attempted to kill me. “He admits that they journeyed in company. He tried by force to cause her to fly with him across the Atlas and beyond the sea, unto the land of the Infidels.”
“It’s a lie!” I shouted warmly. “Bring her hither, and let her, O Sheikh, relate unto thee her story.”
“Already she hath told it,” the old chieftain replied. “Already thou art proved to be no respecter of our women, for thine eyes have defiled their unveiled faces, and by thy speeches hast thou caused them to forget the commands of the Prophet, and look upon thee, a white-faced son of offal, with favour.”
“My acquaintance with any woman of thy race will not preclude her from drinking of the fountain of Salsabil,” (a spring in Paradise), I answered defiantly.
“Thou wilt deny next that thou hast ever spoken with our beauteous Daughter of the Sun!” exclaimed the irate Despot of the Desert, who, as he uttered Zoraida’s name, bowed low in reverence, an example imitated by all his followers.
“I deny not my actions, neither shall I attempt to refute the allegations made against me by a murderer,” I answered.
My captors laughed jeeringly. I knew by their manner that they were determined that I should die, and I expected no mercy. Yet, despite an inward feeling of despair, I determined to show a bold front. I had been betrayed; but they should not see that I feared them.
“Secretly hast thou entered her private apartment, and remained there alone with her. To thee, son of Malec (the principal angel who has charge of hell), she hath disclosed our secrets—secrets which thou now holdest; hence, thou art the one Infidel in the world who possessest power to work evil upon us.”
“Whatever secrets I may have learned I have not used,” I protested firmly. “With me a secret remaineth always a secret.”
One of the men who had been reclining on a divan smoking, rose, whispering a word into the ear of his angry master. For a moment Hadj Absalam reflected, then asked: “What was the nature of this secret revealed unto thee?”
“To the Lalla Zoraida I promised not to disclose.”
“But if, peradventure, I chose to regard thy crimes leniently,—if I even spared thy life,—wouldst thou not explain the nature of the secret wonders thine eyes have beholden?”
“No,” I answered firmly. “Not all the Treasure of Askiá, added to my liberty, would unlock my lips.”
“The Treasure of Askiá!” gasped the Hadj, glancing quickly round to his attendants with an expression of amazement and alarm that reflected itself upon their countenances. “What knowest thou of it?”
“In the Desert I learned the story of the great king’s hidden wealth,” I replied innocently.
“Ah!” cried the Sheikh, with sudden ferocity. “I had expected as much. Truly thou art a son of Eblis whose actions are accursed; truly hast thou tasted of the bitter fruit of Al-Zakkum, which hath its roots in hell!”
“Peace be upon thee, O Ruler!” I said. “Thy servant knoweth naught of any such thing as this whereof thou speakest, for never hath he committed any deed to warrant this thy wrath.” But he flew into a fit of uncontrollable rage, and hurled upon me every curse that his voluble tongue could utter. To argue was useless. I tried to induce him to explain how I had stolen from his people the secret of their victories, declaring that I held no power which could detract from the success of their raids. But he would vouchsafe no answer to my questions, and only shouted his intention of submitting me to a most horrible series of tortures, before my body should be given to the vultures. The old despot’s anger was fearful to behold. He stamped, he raved, he tore into shreds his silken garments, and actually foamed at the mouth.
Voiceless, I stood before him. Amid these fierce marauders, who regarded not the lives of enemies or friends and were awaiting impatiently the order to hurry me off to my death, I was a doomed man. The frowns of Fortune had never been so ominous as at that moment.
Suddenly he paused, panting and breathless, his eyes aflame with hatred, and his face hideously distorted by anger and revenge.
“Speak, dog of a Christian!” he shouted. “Speak! or, by the Prophet and the One, thy profane tongue shall be torn out by the roots. How earnest thou to possess thyself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders? What hath its possession availed thee? Answer, or—”
There was a sudden movement among the men behind me, who with one accord uttered ejaculations of surprise, as the Sheikh’s threat was interrupted by a loud voice crying—
“Silence! Let not another word pass thy lips, on pain of the most damnifying curses that tongue can utter!”
Turning sharply to ascertain who dared thus command the dreaded Sultan of the Sahara to close his lips, I beheld a woman with bare, beautifully-moulded arm outstretched, pointing imperiously towards the proud, regal figure on the divan. The pirate Sheikh trembled before her, staggered as if he had received a blow, then stood silent, not daring to complete the sentence.
Her sudden appearance had caused a pallor to creep over his countenance, as anger gave place to fear.
Advancing, the strange veiled figure stood before the divan just in front of me, with face turned away and arm still uplifted, as in the lamplight her bracelets flashed and gleamed with dazzling brilliancy. She was a veritable Light of the Harem, dressed superbly in gauzy garments of palest mauve, with magnificent jewels in her hair, upon her brow, upon her bare white breast, and upon her delicate ankles. Her heavy golden girdle was richly studded with rubies and sapphires; her long dark tresses, unbound, fell in rich profusion upon her bare shoulders; and about her there clung a sweet, subtle breath of geranium that filled my nostrils. Her attitude was marked with a strange suppleness, astonishingly graceful, and the men who had held me captive before their tyrannical master fell back, as if awestricken by her dazzling presence.
“Hearken!” she exclaimed in clear, musical Arabic, as she unwound the veil from her face. “Knowest thou me?”
“We do! Peace be upon thee, O beauteous Woman of Wisdom, O Lady amongst Women!” they answered with one accord, even to the Sheikh himself, all bowing before her abashed.
“Then behold! I stand at thy divan of judgment to answer for the offences of this Roumi, who hath, by cowardly device, been delivered into thine hands!”
Turning, she suddenly faced me. I was rendered mute by amazement. The woman before whom these outlaws bowed as if in worship was none other than Zoraida!
Upon me there gazed, with unmistakable glances of affection, the calm, beautiful face that had for so long existed only in my dreams, but which was at this moment before me, a living reality!
For an instant my tongue refused to articulate, but, dashing forward and seizing her right hand, I rained kisses upon it, notwithstanding the fierce, guttural exclamations of disapproval uttered on all sides by my enemies. That the lips of an Infidel should thus defile a woman of Al-Islâm, was to them infamous; but in that brief second, the woman I loved whispered in imperfect French—
“Obey. I may save thee!”
The horrible souvenir I had received in Algiers flashed across my mind, and I sought her hand. Almost beside myself with joy, I found it was intact and uninjured! The severed member that had been sent me, and afterwards stolen so mysteriously, was not Zoraida’s!
“By what right dost thou, O Daughter of the Sun, interfere between thy Ruler and his foes?” the old Sheikh asked angrily at that moment.
“Against me have thine unfounded allegations been levelled,” she answered bitterly, standing by my side, holding my hand in hers. “It is true that this Roumi and I have met, and that he holdeth certain secrets; but I warn thee that if a hair of his head is injured, of a surety will the fearful vengeance of the Unknown fall upon and crush thee and thy people.”
“Thou canst not—thou shalt not wrest him from our hands!” cried Hadj Absalam, boiling over with rage. “My will hath already been spoken. He shall die!”
“Then the peril is thine,” she said in slow, impressive tones. Her hand quivered, and I could see that she was trembling lest her bold and gallant effort to save my life should prove unavailing.
“Already hath he brought the direst evil upon us,” cried the Ruler of the Ennitra. “Besides, for aught we know, he may be the mysterious stranger who, according to report, was present as spy at a meeting of the Ghuzzat, held by the Kel-Fadê, and who escaped so strangely.”
“How thinkest thou that a Roumi can understand our symbols of the serpents? Even if he were the mysterious eavesdropper, what could he have gathered with regard to our brotherhood?” she asked, adding, “It seemeth thou art determined to take his life, so thou formulatest unfounded charges against him!”
“Bah! he is thy lover,” the sinister-faced old brigand observed, with a sneer. “In thine eyes he is no doubt innocent.”
“I acknowledge that upon mine own head should be the punishment for the evils that have befallen our people. Yet, nevertheless, I declare unto thee—”
“If thou lovest a dog of an Infidel,” cried Hadj Absalam, interrupting, “thou art no longer worthy our confidence.” Then, turning to those about him, he asked, “Do I give utterance to thy thoughts?”
“Yes. Thy words are words of wisdom, O Ruler,” they answered with one voice.
Releasing my hand, she raised her alabaster-like arm towards the chief of the outlaws, exclaiming in a loud voice, “If the Ennitra have no longer confidence in me, I will to-night sever the bond that bindeth me to them. Into battle have I led thy people many times, against Infidel and the enemy of our own race alike, and thou hast vanquished thy foes, and compelled them to bite the dust. Against thee have the legions of France been arrayed, yet powerless, and at this moment, thou, Hadj Absalam, art the mighty Sultan of the Sahara, the ruler whose power causeth all men to tremble, from Ghat even unto far Timbuktu. To-day thou hast advanced to this spot hopeful and confident, prepared to wage a war that must be bloody and deadly; but as thou hast lost faith in thy Daughter of the Sun, I shall leave thee to thine own devices. If thou killest the man I love, I shall depart. We twain are in thine hands.”
“Canst thou not, O Ruler, kill the false Prophetess too?” suggested a voice from behind. I recognised the tones as those of Labakan!
“If thou takest my life, thou too wilt fall within one moon under the fiery scimitar of Azraïl, even though each man hath the strength of Jalût and the courage of Al-Jassâsa,” she exclaimed, with the calm dignity of a queen.
The men jeered at her prophetic utterances, but she looked at them with withering scorn, and heeded them not. For my life she was striving, and cared for naught else. Her beauty intoxicated me, and I stood, even in those critical moments, entranced, as I had before been, by her extraordinary loveliness.
“Al-Sijil hath registered thy deeds,” she continued, casting calm, imperious looks at the brigandish band about her. “If thou committest the crime of shedding the blood of those who possess the power by which thou existest as the most powerful people of the Desert, thou wilt assuredly never lave in the stream Zenjebil.”
Her words created a visible impression upon them, and seriously they whispered among themselves, until suddenly their Sheikh addressed them, saying—
“Already have I decided that the Infidel shall be put to the torture, that his ears shall be cut off, his eyes put out, and his tongue removed. Are those thy wishes?”
“Thy will be done, O Ruler,” they answered; and Labakan added, “Our Woman of Wisdom hath no longer power to lead us unto victory. She is enamoured of this accursed Christian dog who bringest the direst evil upon us.”
“Then away with him!” cried Hadj Absalam, waving his arm towards me. “Let his hands be lopped off, and let his end be one of long suffering.”
Four men seized me roughly, and were dragging me out, when Zoraida, advancing a few steps, uttered a final earnest appeal. In her beautiful face was a look of intense anxiety, as she stood alone in the centre of the pavilion, pale, erect, queenly.
“Hearken!” she cried wildly. “If this man—who is not our enemy—be put to death, remember that upon thee will fall the curses of one whose incantations can produce good or evil, life or death! Thou sayest that he holdeth the power that I should hold, but I tell thee—”
“Hath he not by thine aid possessed himself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders?” interrupted the Sheikh.
“The Crescent is no longer possessed by an Infidel,” she answered quickly. “During a fight with the Kel-Fadê it was lost, and hath since that time lain undiscovered.”
“I found it at—”
“Hush! Remain silent,” she whispered, speaking in broken French and glancing at me significantly.
“The Crescent, O Mighty Ruler, hath been seen in his saddle-bag,” Labakan urged, muttering a curse under his breath.
“The leathern case may be there,” continued Zoraida, with intense earnestness, “but undoubtedly the Crescent of Strange Wonders, the mysterious secret of which is as impenetrable as the wall of Dhu’lkarnein (built to prevent the incursions of Gog and Magog), was lost among the plunder secured by our enemies. It is probably still in the hands of the Kel-Fadê.”
“Let the Infidel’s saddle-bags be at once searched,” ordered the chieftain, and two men hurried forth with that object. I stood anxious to see what turn events would take when the strange object was found secreted in the bag that had served me as pillow, but judge my amazement when, a few minutes later, the men returned with the case, declaring that they had found it empty! Had it again been stolen from me? When they announced the futility of their errand, a smile of satisfaction played about Zoraida’s mouth, a fact which puzzled me when I reflected how explicit her instructions had been over its safe custody.
“If it remaineth in the hands of the Kel-Fadê, we must compel them to restore it, or fight as an alternative,” said the Sheikh decisively. “We must repossess ourselves of it at all hazards;” adding thoughtfully, “The Great Secret which it conceals must be revealed unto us. Knowledge of its utility in revealing the mystery must be obtained, even at the point of the sword.”
On all hands muttered words of approbation greeted this declaration. Then, after a slight pause, he continued—
“If the Roumi possesseth not the Crescent, he cannot hold our vanished power!”
“Why then should he die?” queried the woman whose face had mastery over me.
“Because he is of the accursed race, and hath defiled with his eyes thine own countenance, and those of other of our daughters.”
“But thou wilt not darken the world unto me at this moment—when I am leading thee to glorious success and the acquisition of great wealth?” she urged on my behalf.
“And if he liveth—what then?”
“He will accompany us. The country we are entering is already known unto him, thus will he be enabled to choose our route, and lead us to a great and decisive victory,” she argued.
The old Sheikh paused, consulting in an undertone with his two advisers who had smoked on in contemplative silence. Anxiously Zoraida and I awaited their verdict, not without feelings of despair, for we both had realised the terrible prejudice against me. At last, however, Hadj Absalam exclaimed—
“The sentence of death by torture having been declared upon the Infidel, it must remain. Nevertheless, it will not be carried out until the result of our expedition hath been seen. If we are victorious, then shall he lead us against the Kel-Fadê, in order to recover the Crescent of Glorious Wonders.”
“My Amîn!” whispered Zoraida in French, with tears of joy in her brilliant eyes. “Thou hast a brief respite; use it well. We must now part, but remember that I love thee always—always!”
“But the Crescent?” I gasped. “How shall I act?”
“Remain patient. For the present thou art safe, but be wary of the man who hath already attempted to take thy life. He may strike thee a secret blow at the orders of Hadj Absalam. Go thou back to thy tent and sleep, and when opportunity ariseth, I will communicate with thee, and direct thy footsteps unto the path of freedom.”
Then, snatching up her flimsy veil, she deftly twisted it across her face, and walked out with regal gait, proudly acknowledging the obeisance of the dark-faced outlaws, who in apparent fear bowed before her.
A few minutes later, I was back again in the tent from which I had been so mysteriously called, and until the dawn, sat coolly contemplating the remarkable and unexpected turn events had taken.